$^m^^^^^< •:'•:^ •':'■' >]IKhi'm<'i?'M.> '>>■-' J);" M,, V- '/' iii)^^ ^ ^ * '''^'^ M^' ^^^0 ' I; lb"; Miir* "'^c ' >. lili iiii I i ii .^^^ "^.- vi^ 0^ ^<^ '^ ^^'' %^'=' •^P,^^' .0- •i-^ " ; ., 1^ *,.^ii^-=*,*' , ^oo^ %. ' 6 y : ^ -^ ^-is^ .'^^ r- '^ ■^^ .#' "%<.'^ r-^"^^ i^.^>ffvi^'^>; <^'' "^:> -^ r^'i'''^'" v^-^^*^ - ^;. s^ ^o- ,•0' X 5j4^'*> 'IV v^' i' •% '\\ ^t' i >.» c'.. .r '--si^^iilJl s^ '^^ ■^\M/?k- \y .^ .\^; SELECTIONS FROM THE PROSE WRITINGS OF JONATHAN SWIFT EDITED WITH NOTES AND AN INTRODUCTION . BY F. C. PRESCOTT Assistant Professor of Rhetoric, Cornell University NEW YORK HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 1901 1 THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, Two Copies Received MAR. 5 1901 Copyright entry CLASS «->XXo. No, COPY B. . Copyright, igoi, BY HENRY HOLT &. CO. ROBERT DRUMMOND, PRINTER, NEW YORK. i PREFACE. From the present selection it has seemed best to exclude ^ullivers Travels and the Journal to Stella, Gulliver prob- oly deserves to be read, as it usually is read, before any f the works included here, but it is already obtainable in lany forms. T\iQ Journal to Stella likewise should be read by every student of Swift, for the light it throws on Swift's character, of which it gives a more intimate idea than any of his other writings, and even for its style. But, not having been intended for publication, it lies outside Swift's formal prose, if not outside literature, and it can therefore oe excluded from this volume, which is limited in space and must first give an idea of Swift's ordinary prose. With these important exceptions the text aims at as fair a rep- resentation of Swift's wide range of subjects and style as space will permit. The introduction to Polite Conversa- tion is selected, not only because it includes some of Swift's best irony, but because it is now accessible only in rare editions. All the selections, except the Tale oj a Tub, are printed entire. In the introduction and notes, the aim is not to add anything to what is already known about Swift, but to gather into convenient form from sources available to every one such information as is necessary to an intelligent reading of IV PREFACE. the text. The reader will see at once the extent of my in- debtedness to previous annotators and especially to Sir Henry Craik, to whom constant acknowledgments are due. Ithaca, New York, August I, 1900. CONTENTS. PAGE Introduction vii Chronological Table xli Bibliographical Note xlv A Tale of a Tub , i The Battle of the Books 53 An Argument against Abolishing Christianity 91 The Drapier's Letters. — Letter IV iii A Modest Proposal 136 Polite Conversation. — Introduction 150 Notes 187 V INTRODUCTION. I. SWIFTS WORK. In the ideal study of English Literature the chief thing, Matthew Arnold says, is ^^ to fix a certain series of works to serve as what the French, taking an expression from the builder's business, call points de repere — points which stand as so many fixed centres, and by returning to which we can always find our way again if we are embarrassed." Swift would be important in such a series. If Johnson s Lives of the Poets furnish (as Arnold thinks) an admirable point de repere in the second half of the eighteenth century, Swift's prose — the Battle of the Books, the Tale of a Tub, and Gullivers Travels — could be chosen with even more certainty as a fixed centre in the first half. The well- known writers of Queen Anne's time form a compact and homogeneous group. In ideas they had much in com- mon, and, if Defoe be excepted, they were all personally, almost intimately, acquainted with each other. They, more than any other group of English literary men before or since, were engaged in doing the practical business and in confronting the actual problems of their day and gen- eration. Of this group Swift is the leader, and Swift's prose — at least for the student of literary ideas and ten- Vlll INTRODUCTION. dencies — is the most important product. In the ideal study of literature Swift's prose would be the best intro- duction to the period ; and the writings of Defoe, Addi- son, Steele, even of Pope himself, could not unfairly be treated as so many '^ illustrative and representative works '* — ^best understood when referred to Swift as their natural centre. A reader of the Tale of a Tub will see at once how wide a field Swift covers in his references and allusions, and how many passages — clear enough perhaps to Swift's contem- poraries, but obscure to us — must be studied before the satire is seen in its full force. To read Swift intelligently one must read at the same time the history of the period — political, social, literary, and religious — and the more one studies the two in connection, the more one is struck by the fullness and closeness of Swift's representation of the life and thought of his time. If this makes Swift's writ- ings somewhat difficult to the ordinary reader of the pres- ent day, it makes them correspondingly important for the student of the period. There is hardly a subject which was matter of interest and controversy at the beginning of the eighteenth century to which some contribution cannot be found in Swift's nineteen volumes ; while the most im- portant subjects, the questions which were uppermost in politics, religion, and literature, are touched on again and again. In Swift's writings — one sees it more and more as one reads — there is nothing thrown away ; everything is written with practical aim and with seriousness of purpose; everything is vital. This is the reason, aside from his mere style, why Swift is valuable ; he is a great mind deal- ing with the greatest problems of his time in a masterly way, — in a way, too, that was not merely helpful to his INl^RODUCTIOM, IX own age, but is full of significance for the present day as well. The reader will see from the following sections of the introduction how directly all the pieces in the text bear on living issues ; and he should keep this practical aim of Swift's writings always in mind because it deter- mines the spirit and style of everything that Swift wrote. II. SWIFT A SATIRIST. It is impossible to overlook the fondness of the eighteenth century for satire and burlesque. The purpose in most literature of the time — poetry or prose — is not j primarily to amuse and instruct, but to make something contemptible or ridiculous. As Professor Beers says/ '^ there is a whole literature of mockery," — parodies, for example, like Buckingham's Rehearsal and Swift's Medi- tation upon a Broomstick ; mock-heroics like Mac Flecknoe and the Rape of the Lock and the Dispensary ; curious and self-conscious inversions like the Town Eclogues and the Newgate Pastoral. There is satire in every variety from the mild sermons of the Spectator to the savage and bitter attacks of Gulliver s Travels ; from the clumsy and ambig- uous irony of Defoe's Shortest Way with Dissenters to the polished couplets of the Epistle to Arbuthnot and the Dun- ciad. All this satire is significant. It shows in what work the eighteenth-century writers were engaged. What they saw in life most clearly was its errors, abuses, and affectations, and these they were bent on reforming. Since ' they were not too much in earnest, and were inclined to ^ Engtish Romanticism in the Eighteenth Century^ p. 46. X IN TROD UCTION, see things humorously, the reforms were carried on by satire rather than by mere preaching or invective; but the serious aim of reforming and correcting was always present. The settlement effected by the Revolution of 1688 brought in a long period of internal peace and left Englishmen free to turn their minds, which for two gene- rations had been absorbed in religious and political con- troversy, to other concerns. Instead, however, of going on to entirely new ideas they began to go over old ideas again more calmly. The eighteenth century was, on the whole, intolerant of new ideas, as is shown by the harsh treatment of the deists, the contempt heaped upon dis- coverers in natural science, the adherence to established literary ideas and forms. The age — as has been often said — was not creative but critical. The men of the eighteenth century were bent on bringing knowledge and experience already acquired under review ; on reject- ing what of this was worthless ; on applying reason and common sense to the remainder ; on reducing to rule, on classifying and renovating. Things which did not conform to accepted standards they applied themselves to changing; and accordingly we find satire directed against abuses and errors of every kind, not only in beliefs and ideas, but in morals and manners : against superstition and hypocrisy in religion ; against extremes in politics ; against literary extravagance and ineptitude ; against personal vanity and affectation ; against rough manners in the street and immo- rality in the theatres — and so on : the varieties are as numerous as the kinds of human error. In literature this spirit is actively at work. Pope takes over the versification of Dryden and applies himself, at Walsh's advice, to correcting and perfecting it. Prose INTROD UCTION, XI style, which in the seventeenth-century writers had been irregular, unformed, uncertain, is practised by Swift, Defoe, and Addison, formed, reduced to exact usage, made for the first time a practical and effective means of communication. Criticism becomes a matter of fixed standards and principles. The fondness of the eighteenth- century writers for the classics is easily understood if we remember their fondness for rules and precedents. The classics gave them models in all the recognized kinds of writing ; and classical literary forms and classical criticism furnished standards by the application of which the merits of contemporary work could be ascertained and its claims to recognition adjusted. Pope's injunction is : *^ Hear how learn' d Greece her useful rules indites. When to repress and when indulge our flights ; ' ' ^ while Addison estimates Paradise Lost by inquiring if it follows Homer and Virgil and squares with Aristotle.^ The classicism of eighteenth- century literature, which is often considered its distin- guishing characteristic, might be regarded as one manifesta- tion of a broader spirit which is everywhere at work. The passion for forming and reforming is, to adopt the idea of Pope, the ** ruling passion" of the period. In this matter Swift is truly representative. The eighteenth century is the age of satire, and Swift is the greatest English satirist. The reader will not be surprised to find all the selections in the present volume satirical. The Battle of the Books and the Tale of a Tub — Swift's first works except the Pindarics, which are obviously arti- ficial and unindividual — are satirical ; so is almost every- ^ Essay on Criticism^ vv. 92, 93. 2 Addison's Essays on Milton^ eighteen in number, begin with No. 267 of the Spectator, Xll INTROD UCTION, thing else he wrote, including his last publication of importance, the Polite Conversation. In piece after piece there is the same attack, the same tone of banter, ridicule, and contempt, the same cool masterly style, the same manner, — cogent, insistent, domineering. Part of the interest of the Journal to Stella is that in it we escape from the tension of Swift's satirical writings. In writing to Stella, too. Swift is no longer ironical, and we find with relief that for once we can take him naturally. For irony is a characteristic of Swift's method ; as re- formers and satirists often are, he is a master of irony. In page after page he is saying one thing and meaning another. He keeps up the irony through long works without flagging and without becoming inconsistent. He is so fond of indirect and inverted means of expression that the reader is almost never safe in taking his surface meaning. Under the rollicking story of the three brothers in the Tale of a Tub is the serious criticism of the three divisions of the church. Under the matter-of-fact narrative of Gulliver' s ravels^ apparently so simple and harmless that it has become a story for children — is the relentless attack on human errors and weaknesses. Under the light jesting manner of the Modest Proposal one sees, at second reading, that Swift is terribly and bitterly in earnest. Two important peculiarities should be noticed about Swift's satire. First, it usually "tears down rather than builds up. Swift was naturally inclined to see errors and abuses more clearly than he saw the remedies for them. Perhaps even in this respect he is representative of his age, to which, as has been said, criticism was more con- genial work than invention. That Swift is entirely with- out remedies is not true. In the Modest Proposal, for INT ROD UCTION, XUl example, he is careful to enumerate measures from which Ireland can expect relief. But in general — and this is one thing that makes his work so dispiriting — he is with- out any definite plan for improvement, and even without suggestion. He is full of the present evil. Carlyle, who has something of Swift's bitterness and cynicism, is much more fertile in ideas for improvement. Carlyle, even in i the most discouraging times, professes hope, while Swift's \ outlook is hopeless. Another thing which makes Swift's I work terrible is that, from pointing out petty objects of ridicule, and inveighing against human follies and weak- nesses, he proceeds finally to an attack on human nature (and mankind itself. As long as he confines himself to showing remediable faults, even if he does not himself suggest the remedy, he is engaged in a useful work and is I within the limits of legitimate satire. The difficulty is ' that he carries his satire to a morbid and impossible I extreme. When he brings his indictment, not against particular human weaknesses, but against humanity, he ceases to be useful in improving mankind ; he takes away the power and desire for improvement ; he can only bring men to hopelessness and despair. , ^^I hate and detest that animal called man," he says,^ and *^upon this great foundation of misanthropy the whole building of my [Gul- livei.r^ travels is erected." A spirit of this kind is less dangerous to society than to its possessor, and Swift wore out his own life in despair. Fortunately much of his work rests on a better foundation. 1 Swift to Pope, Sept. 29, 1725. XIV IN TROD UCTION, III. THE TALE OF A TUB. The Tale of a Tub was published anonymously in 1704. It was written, however, six or seven years earlier, prob- ably for the most part in the year 1697,^ and was the product of the period in which Swift lived with Sir Wil- liam Temple at Moor Park. This period, which includes also his entrance into the church and his stay at Kilroot, was that of Swift's greatest mental activity. He was read- ing widely in literature, history, and thteology.^ '^The author, '* he says of himself in his Apology (1709), '* was then young, his invention at its height, and his read- ing fresh in his head." The Tale of a Tub was Swift's first contribution to religious controversy. And, though marked by his usual cynicism and disregard for conven- tionality, the contribution was direct, sincere, and im- petuous, — the product of the young clergyman's first enthusiastic reading and thought on his chosen subject. The fulness and freshness of the Tale of a Tub give it 1 There is an incredible story, for which the authority is Deane Swift, that the Tale of a Tub was partly written as early as Swift's college days. See Craik's Life^ vol. i, p. 21. A note prefixed, '• The Bookseller to the Reader," written in 1704, gives 1697 as thej - '' composition. The* dedication to Prince Posterity is dated "|- 1.1- ber, 1697." The ''Author's Preface" is written in* 'this present month of August, 1697." References in the Tale itself to Dry den's Virgil^ to the war in Flanders, and to the mayoralty of Sir Hum- phrey Edwin, help to fix the date at 1697. Swift's Apology (1709) says: "The greatest part of that book was finished about thirteen years since, 1696, which is eight years before it was published." 2 See Swift's memorandum of books read at this time in Craik's Life^ vol. i, p. 72, INTROD UCTION, XV almost first place among Swift's works, and one who reads it can well understand in what spirit Swift, long after- wards, exclaimed as he turned its pages, ^^ Good God, what a genius I had when I wrote that book ! ' ' Though Swift was never strongly religious, and though he was at this time, like his patron Temple, a supporter of the whig party, which was tolerant in matters of religion, he had one principle in common with the tories ; he was an uncompromising supporter of the Established Church. As long as the succession to the throne remained unsettled religious questions had a political bearing, and the struggle between Catholicism and Protestantism wa^ still one of burning practical interest. Political privileges had been restored to the Catholics by James II. and might be re- r.tored again as long as the crown and government were not securely Protestant, Countless pamphlets were still written and countless sermons preached against the Catholics.^ On the other side were the dissenters. They had joined with the papists against the Established Church in James the Second's time, but, unlike the papists, had continued after the Revolution to enjoy political privi- leges. They had extorted concessions from the whigs in return for political support and considered themselves the bulwark of the Protestant succession. In 1697, the year in which Swift wrote, a dissenter was chosen lord mayor of London, and even dared to go to a dissenters' ^ One of these sermons, written by Archbishop Sharp, strangely enough 'Hhe very prelate who succeeded a few years later in per- suading Anne that, as the author of such a satire us the Tale^ Swift was not a proper person for a bishopric/' contains an allegory of three brothers and a will which is thought by Collins to have given Swift a suggestion for the Tale of a Tub. See Collins, Jonathan Swift, p. 47. XVI INTROD UCTION, meeting with the ensigns of his office. To support Prot- estantism and the Established Church, threatened thu by the Catholics on the one side and the dissenters on tl: other, the Tale of a Tub was primarily written. In the story of the three brothers, Peter, Martin, and Jack, Swift's object is to show the gradual corruption of the early church, the pride and superstition of the Church of Rome, the hypocrisy and cant of the dissenters, and the relative simplicity and purity of the Established Church. But the Tale of a Tub contains a great deal more than this. The religious satire is included in the sections printed in the present volume ; but, after each of these sections, there are digressions (omitted here) which oc- cupy more space than the main story. " The abuses in religion,'' Swift says in his Apology, **he proposed to set forth in the allegory of the coats and the three brothers, which was to make up the body of the discourse ; those in learning he chose to introduce by way of digressions;" and the digressions are by no means the least interesting part of the book. In these Swift satirizes generally the follies and shortcomings which he saw about him : the absurdity of the ambition of the Grub Street writers and other aspirants to literary fame, the incompetence and puerility of the critics, the affectation of the wits and coxcombs, the pedantry of the experimenters in natural philosophy. But in these digressions and in the Tale of a Tub, as a whole, it is not merely particular abuses or par- ticular classes that are aimed at ; the force of the satire is deeper and broader than that and goes beyond matters of contemporary interest. The reader soon sees that Grub Street and Will's and Gresham College are only conve- nient examples of general faults which are the real objects INTROD UCriON. XVll of the satire, — faults which are not transitory, — vanity, pedantry, hypocrisy, and affectation. To this breadth and general significance of the book — so far as it is not a matter of mere style — the lasting fame of the Tale of a Tub is due. Swift is never so conscious of particular faults, so absorbed in contemporary affairs, as to lose the larger view. He has, with his insight, the same breadth land objectiveness, the same disengaged coolness and clear- ness, that one finds in Shakspere or Montaigne, — ^and the I quality is one of the marks of literary genius, i The satire of the Tale of a Tub shows the tendency noted above to go too far. Swift in his Apology professed I a sincere purpose, and there can be no doubt that the gen- , eral trend of the book is in support of the Established \ Church. But as usual he sees the shortcomings of the I other religious bodies rather than the merits of the Church ' of England, and Martin, with his purely negative virtues, I is made little less ridiculous than Peter and Jack. To Swift's clear — perhaps morbid — insight nothing seemed heroic, and Martin is far from turning out the hero he would have been in an ideal defence of the English church. It is not remarkable that the Tale of a Tub should have been thought by Swift's contemporaries to ridicule all religion and that it should have cost him a bishopric. In fact, though there is a buoyancy and freshness about the Tale which distinguishes it from Swift's later writings, the satire, especially in the digressions, has much of Swift's later cynicism and misanthropy. As Collins says : ^ ^*The satire rests on the same foundation as Gulliver s Travels — a deep-seated and intense conviction of the hollowness ^ Jonathan Swifts P- 44. XVIU INTROD UCriON. and nothingness of life, a profound contempt for all the objects to which the energies of man are usually directed, and for all that is supposed to constitute human eminence. '^ ^^ How fading and insipid," Swift exclaims in the digres- sion on madness in the ninth section, ^' do all objects ac- cost us that are not conveyed in the vehicle of delusion ! How shrunk is everything as it appears in the glass of nature ! ... In the proportion that credulity is a more peaceful possession of the mind than curiosity, so far pref- erable is that wisdom which converses about the surface, to that pretended philosophy which enters into the depth of things. ' ' Swift has already begun to take the hopeless view of the ^^ Voyage to the Houyhnhnms." IV. THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS. The Battle of the Books was Swift's contribution to a now forgotten literary controversy, which was, however, carried on with a great deal of enthusiasm at the end of the seventeenth century, — the famous *^ quarrel of the ancients and moderns ;'* — i.e,, as to the relative merits of the ancient and modern learning.* For the origin of this controversy it would probably be necessary to go to the later Renaissance period in Italy, where the study of the ancient classics, followed by a vigorous contemporary literary production, made comparison of modern writers with their ancient models and discussion as to the relative merits of the two inevitable. The immediate discussion * For a full discussion see H. Rigault, Histoire de la querelle des anciens et des modernes. For an account of the controversy in Eng- land see Jebb, Behtley (<« English Men of Letters "), chaps, iv, v. INTRODUCTION, XIX in which Swift took part, however, began in France, and to make Swift's satire clear it will be necessary to give a brief account of this. The brilliant achievements of the age of Louis XIV. in war, diplomacy, and letters led some complacent French writers to maintain that the literature of seventeenth-century France was the greatest the world had ever seen. Charles Perrault advanced this opinion in a poem, Le siecle de Louis le Grand, which was read be- fore the French Academy in 1687, and elaborated it in four volumes oi Par alleles des anciens et des modernes (1688- 1697). Perrault claimed superiority over the ancients for various moderns, and among others **set Monsieur Boileau against Horace," — a position which Boileau him- self at once repudiated, taking the side of the ancients in his Reflexions critiques sur Longin (1694). Mean- while Fontenelle supported the moderns in a Digression sur les anciens et les modernes (1688). The conflict was transferred to England by Swift's friend and patron, Sir William Temple. Temple's atten- tion had been called to the discussion in France by some work of Fontenelle' s, apparently this Digression,^ and in 1690 he published, on the side of the ancients, dca Essay upon Ancient and Modern Learning, a nicely written but not very sound argument to show that all learning was the product of eastern antiquity, that the ancients surpassed the moderns, not only in art and literature but in all branches of learning, and that whatever knowledge the moderns possessed they got from preying upon the an- cients, — ^' out of the books in the universities." In fact he took seriously the same position which Swift afterwards ^ Temple, Works^ (^77^)f vol. iii, p. 431. XX INTRODUCTION. supported humorously in the Battle of the Books. Temple was a man of sufficient reputation to give the conflict im- portance in England, and his Essay was followed by many others on the same subject.^ The first of these was Will- iam Wotton's Reflections upon Ancient and Modern Learji- ing, published in 1694. Wotton, who, by mastering Latin, Greek, and Hebrew at the age of six, and getting his degree at Cambridge at the age of thirteen, had come to be known as a prodigy of learning, and had in fact all the pedantry Swift was so fond of ridiculing, treated the subject less entertainingly but more judicially and exhaust- ively than the polite Temple. He admitted the superior- ity of the ancients in *^ eloquence and poetry'^ and de- voted himself to supporting the claims of modern science. To his success in disposing of Temple's arguments on this head Wotton owed his unenviable position in the Battle 0/ the Books, ^ A full bibliographical list of the writings constituting the discus- sion in England will be found in the preface to Bentley's JVorks, ed. Dyce, vol. i, p. xi. The following brief list, which includes some works not mentioned above, is given for convenience of reference : 1690. Sir W. Temple, Essay upon Ancient and Modern Learning. 1694. W. Wotton, Reflections upon Ancient and Modern Learn- ing. 1695. C. Boyle, Phalaridis Epistotce. 1697. W. Wotton, Reflections^ second edition, with R. Bentley's Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris^ etc. , appended. 1698. C. Boyle, Dr. Bentley's Dissertations Examined. 1699. R. Bentley, A Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris^ an expansion of the earlier work. 1 701. Sir W. Temple, A Defense of the Essay upon Ancient a7id Modern Learnings published posthumously by Swift. 1704. J. Swift, The Battle of the Books. 1705. W. Wotton, A Defense of the Reflections upon Ancient and Modern Learning, INTROD UCTION, - XXl Temple, in his JSssay, made one important slip which opened the way to effective reply on the part of the supporters of the moderns. He expressed himself as follows: '^ It may be further affirmed in favor of the ancients that the oldest books we have are still in their kind the best. The two most ancient that I know of in prose, among those we call profane authors, are ^sop's fables and Phalaris's epistles, both living near the same time, which was that of Cyrus and Pythagoras. As the first has been agreed by all ages since for the greatest master in his kind, and all others of that sort but imita- tions of his original ; so I think the epistles of Phalaris to have more race, more spirit, more force of wit and genius than any others I have seen, either ancient or modern.*^ The fables and epistles which Temple had chosen as shining examples of the superiority of the ancients were in fact, as his opponents soon showed, not written by ^sop and Phalaris at all, but were spurious works com- posed after the Christian era. This reference of Temple was the means of bringing two other important persons into the conflict — Boyle and Bentley. Temple's praise of Phalaris led the scholars of Christ Church, Oxford, a young and brilliant but rather superficial literary coterie, to undertake a new edition of the epistles, and the editing was done, nominally at least, by one of the most dis- tinguished of their number, Charles Boyle, afterwards Earl of Orrery. Boyle's edition of the Epistles of Pha- laris appeared in 1695. In his editing Boyle had borrowed for collation from the King's Library at St. James's a manuscript of the spurious letters, and this manuscript Bentley, librarian of St. James's, had demanded back before the work was complete. Boyle, to show his resent- XXU INTROD UCTION, ment for this act of Bentley's, spoke of it in his Latin preface to the Epistles as pro singulari humanitate sua, — i.e., in accordance with Bentley's somewhat peculiar ideas of courtesy. It may be noted by the way that, though Boyle probably meant in the first place by this phrase to charge Bentley merely with lack of courtesy, Bentley himself in replying to Boyle translated it with humorous literalness, *^out of his singular humanity/' Bentley's opponents took up the phrase and, finding in it some special fitness to the great scholar's bluntness and intolerance, used it as a sort of battle-cry. The reader will find in the Battle of the Books several sarcastic refer- ences to Bentley's *^ humanity." Bentley, by far the greatest classical scholar of his day, entered the discussion at this point by appending to the second edition of Wotton's Reflections (1697) 2^ Disserta- tion upon the Epistles of Phalaris, etc. In the introduction to this work Bentley replied to Boyle's charge in a light and entertaining vein, and then proceeded to show by a masterly argument the spuriousness of the so-called epis- tles of Phalaris and fables of ^sop. One more number in the controversial series must be mentioned. Early in 1698 Boyle published a rejoinder entitled Dr. Bentley s Dissertations on the Epistles of Phalaris and • the Fables of JEsop Examined, This book left the merits of the dispute about where they were before, but to its composition were summoned all the resources and all the cleverness of Boyle's party, and, unlike Wotton's Reflections, it will still be found entertaining reading. At this point the Battle of the Books was written. The controversy, as will be seen from the foregoing account, had left the general lines which it had followed in France INTRODUCTION, XXlll and had narrowed itself to the discussion of particular points and personalities. There could be no question as to which side had substantially the better of the discussion. Temple, writing with the superficiality and easy inaccu- racy befitting a retired diplomat spending his declining years in the cultivation of polite letters, and Boyle, hold- ing his own by sheer wit, were no match for the serious and learned, if dull, Wotton, and the scholarly Bentley. But there could also be no question which side of the dis- pute Swift would take. As Leslie Stephen remarks. Swift probably knew and cared little about the merits of the controversy. He was quite ready in the Battle of the Books to make Boileau a champion of the moderns in spite of Boileau s own repudiation of that position ; and to repre- sent Bentley as failing utterly from the weight of his pedantry, when as a matter of fact he had triumphantly succeeded because of his superior learning. It was always Swift's way to support practically and ardently the side on which his sympathies had been engaged, for- tuitously or otherwise, rather than to trouble himself about abstract merits. The present controversy, brought down from the uninteresting level of general criticism and made a hand-to-hand personal conflict — Temple against Wotton, and Boyle against Bentley, — was just the kind of a contest in which Swift could take part with spirit. He wrote on the side of the ancients for two reasons. In the first place, his sympathies were naturally with the native wit and cleverness of Boyle's party against what he con- sidered the toiling dulness and pedantry of Wotton and Bentley. In the second place, he was bound to support his patron Temple. Swift had by this time (1697J be- come Temple's friend and literary adviser. Temple to >^xiv IN TROD UCTION, defend his first essay had begun a second (published by Swift in 1701 after Temple's death), but was unable to finish it. Swift probably meant to step in and dispose of Temple's opponents by means of sarcasm. But, for some reason, the Battle of the Books was not published until seven years later (1704), and it is possible that it was written merely as a humorous skit for private circulation among Temple's friends. At any rate, the reader of the Battle should bear in mind throughout that it was intended to be a direct contribution to an active personal controversy, and especially to reenforce Temple's Essay upon Ancient ^ and Modern Learning. The Battle of the Books falls naturally into three parts. Temple's idea that the moderns get all their learning out of books, while the ancients went direct to nature, is set forth in lively form in the fable of the spider and the bee, which, very fittingly, ^sop is called on to sum up. The moderns pretend to nothing genuine ^* unless it be a large vein of wrangling and satire, much of a nature and sub- stance with the spider's poison; which, however they pretend to spit wholly out of themselves, is improved by the same arts, by feeding upon the insects and vermin of the age." The ancients, on the other hand, to quote again from ^sop's eloquent summary, ''pretend to noth- ing of our own, beyond our wings and our voice : that is to say, our flights and our language. For the rest, what- ever we have got, hath been by infinite labor and search, and ranging through every corner of nature ; the differ- ence is, that, instead of dirt and poison, we have rather chose to fill our hives with honey and wax, thus furnishing mankind with the two noblest of things, which are sweet- ness and light." After the *' long descant of ^sop " the INTRODUCTION^, xxV ' ' battle ' ' proper, with which the satire begins and which is interrupted by the fable, is resumed, and the ancient and modern books, whose merits had been so seriously discussed by Temple and Wotton, are given life and made to take part in an animated mock-Homeric conflict. Then follows the ' ' Episode of Bentley and Wotton, ' ' in which these two moderns start forth to get the armor of Phalaris and -^sop (the reference being to Bentley' s Dissertation^, but are met by Boyle, who, clad in a suit of armor given him by all the gods (Boyle's reply, which was the joint work of the Christ Church wits), advanced against the trembling foes and finally transfixed them both, like a brace of woodcocks, on his lance. There has always hung over the Battle of the Books a vague charge of plagiarism, which has been met only by the latest biographers of Swift. The charge was first made by Wotton in his Defense of the Reflections (1705) : '* I have been assured that the Battle in St. Jam.es' s Li- brary is, mutatis mutandis, taken out of a French book, entitled Combat des livres, if I misremember not." No book with this title is known. In spite of the uncertain wording of Wotton 's charge, which shows it to have been made at random, and in spite of Swift's explicit denial (in his Apology, 1709), the charge was repeated by John- son in his Life of Swift, It was apparently first sug- gested in 1770 by a writer in the Gentleman s Magazine^ that the French book from which Swift got his idea was the Histoire poetique de la guerre nouvellement declaree entre les anciens et les modernes of Francois de Callieres.^ 1 Vol. xl, p. 159. 2 By the writer in the Gentleman s Magazine the name of the author was not given. Scott, through some unaccountable mistake, XXVI INTROD UCTIOAT. This book begins with an account of the reading of Per- rault's poem, Le Steele de Louis le Grand (which is ' printed entire), and this is followed by a long description of the war between the ancient and modern occupants of ^ Parnassus. The resemblance between it and the Battle q/\ the Books is, however, of the most general kind — by no means great enough to justify the charge of plagiarism, or even to warrant the conclusion that Swift knew the book. Moreover, the idea of an allegorical battle was not new with De Callieres, but had already been used so often as to have become common property.^ Swift, then, merely introduced into England a fashionable French literary device and used it in an original way for his own pur- poses — a very characteristic procedure. As Forster re- marks, his indebtedness is greater to Homer than to this French satirist ; and surely few books more original than the Battle of the Books have ever been written. gave the name Coutray, and this mistake was followed by Forster. Craik first gave the name of the author correctly (Life of Szviftj vol. i, p. 90). ^ Rigault says in his Histoire de ia querelle des anciens et des modernes {CEuvres, vol. i, p. 363) : ''En remontant plus haut que le XVII® siecle, on verrait que I'idee premiere de la Bataiile des livres est empruntee peut-etre a un vieux fabliau, oii se trouve raconte un combat de ce genre entre I'Universite de Paris et celle d'Orleans." Two books of the same kind, besides that of De Callieres, are in the Cornell University Library, one of them an earlier contribution to the quarrel of the ancients and moderns, viz. : A. Furetiere's Nou- velte allegorique, ou histoire des derniers troubles arrivez au royaume d' eloquence (1658), which, like De Callieres's, contains an amusing diagram of the field of battle ; and G. Gueret's Guerre des autheurs anciens et modernes (1671). INTRODUCTION, XXVU V. ARGUMENT AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY. The Argument against Abolishing Christianity was one of a series of pamphlets on religious subjects which Swift wrote and published in 1708. At this time he was still, nominally at least, a whig ; but he was inclined to differ with the leaders of his party in matters of religion. '^In order to preserve the constitution entire in Church and State," he says in this year,* ^^ whoever has a true value for either would be sure to avoid the extremes of whig for the sake of the former and the extremes of tory for the sake of the latter. ' ' Swift's breach with the whigs, which was foreshadowed by expressions of this kind and finally took place in 1710, was caused, so far as it was not due to per- sonal interest, by his disagreement with the whig leaders in matters of religion. Swift was a believer in Christianity, and, as has been said, in the particular kind of Christianity represented by the Established Church of England. Not that he was espe- cially religious. As was suggested in the preceding sec- tion, he was not inclined to trouble himself about matters of speculative theology. He did not respond to the spiri- tual and mystical appeal which religion doubtless made to many men even in the eighteenth century, and he prob- ably did not consider any great amount of consecration or religious devotion necessary to the filling of his office. He ^' was not the man,'' as Leslie Stephen observes,^ '* to lose ^ Sentitnents of a Church of England Man, ^ Swift ^ p. 48. XXVIU INTROD UCTIOl^.. himself in an Oh^ altiiudo I or in any train of thought or emotion not directly bearing upon the actual business of the world. ' ' He believed his profession practically val- uable and the Established Church practically necessary. He would hardly have openly supported the view — which was, however, a common one in the eighteenth century — that the Church was a mere system of police or branch of the civil authority for the protection of morals. But to Swift the Church had a political and a moral, as well as a purely religious, value, and he made little effort to keep these different values distinct in his own mind. His religious writings all glance at political subjects and are in reality partly political manifestoes, just as he him- self said that for sermons he could preach nothing but political pamphlets. That an established church was nec- essary — for political, moral, or religious reasons — was in Swift's mind incontestable, and in fact the point was admitted by most of his contemporaries. This being true, the Church should be kept secure and intact ; it should not be weakened by concessions to the Catholics or to the dissenters ; it should be indifferent to speculative dis- cussion, for if it yielded one point it might have to yield another and would be at the mercy of every free-thinker or other person who imagined that he had made an original contribution to theology. In his support of the Established Church, viewed in this practical light, Swift was uncompromising. Swift's position was clearly stated in the pamphlets of the year 1708. The Project for the Advancement of Religion and the Reformation of Manners showed that ^*the nation is extremely corrupted in religion and morals," and offered ^^a short scheme for the reformation INTRODUCTION. XXIX li both." The reformation was to be accomplished mainly by the active interference of the government to build up the material side of the Church. The Senti- ments of a Church of England Man attempted '' to rec- ommend a high and rigid regard for the church establish- ment on the one hand and for the principles of civil liberty on the other/' The views stated in these pamphlets were not pleasing to the whigs, who were as liberal in religion as in politics, and were at this time strengthening them- selves by making concessions to the dissenters. At the end of the year Swift displeased the whigs still further by a practical application of his principles. In December, 1708, he published his Letters on the Sacramental Test, insisting that the Test should be kept up against the dis- senters. The bill for the repeal of the Test Act, sup- ported by the whigs, was lost, it was believed by Swift's influence, and his relations with the whigs were virtually at an end. Of this series of pamphlets on religious subjects the Argu- ment against Abolishing Christianity, also written in 1708, is the most forcible, most interesting, and most characteristic of Swift's peculiar style. It is aimed, ostensibly at least, at the deistical movement, which gave rise to much con- troversy in Swift's time. The leaders of the movement were those mentioned by Swift : John Toland, whose book Christianity not Mysterious (1695) was the first work by the unorthodox writers ; Matthew Tindal, who called him- self a ^VChristian deist " and published his Rights of the Christian Church in 1 706 ; Anthony Collins, who wrote a Discourse on Freethinking, which was later (1713) disposed of by one of Swift's cleverest pieces of irony. The deists were men of little position or ability compared with the XXX INTRO D UCTION, formidable champions of orthodoxy. They received, it is true, the tacit approval of the liberal whig leaders,— of such men as Somers and Wharton, who were popularly regarded as infidels ; and later they were countenanced by men of as much power and note as Bolingbroke and Shaftesbury. But on the whole they were quite inferior to their opponents — men who, as Swift says, would never have been suspected of being wits or philosophers if they had written on any other subject. As it was, they at- tracted wide attention, even in Parliament, where the writings of Toland, Tindal, and others were ordered to be burnt by the common hangman. Swift's Argument iron- ically urges that Christianity should be maintained a little longer in spite of the growing popularity of this freethink- ing. But the satire is double-edged and is not aimed at the deists alone. '' I hope no reader imagines me so weak,'' Swift says by way of ironical cautiqn at the beginning, ^^ to stand up in defence of real Christianity such as used, in primitive times, to have an influence on men's beliefs and actions." He means to call attention, too, to the wide departure that has been made from real Christianity, and to the half-heartedness with which Christianity is now be- lieved. ^'Is the sarcasm here," Craik asks,' ^'chiefly against the skeptic who would sweep away Christianity? Or is it against the conventional artificialities that pass for religion ? Or is it against the essential shallowness of human nature that makes these artificialities all we can compass ? ' ' Swift again sees, back of the particular faults he is satirizing, the *^ essential shallowness of human na- * Life of Swift y vol. i, p. 213. ITNROD UCTIOJV. XXXI ture/' The breadth of the satire in Xh^ Argument against Abolishing Christianity, as well as the force and brilliancy of its style and the skill with which the irony is sustained, place it with the Tale of a Tub and Gulliver's Travels. VI. IRISH PAMPHLETS. The events of 17 14 — the fall of the tories, the death of Anne, the accession of George I. and the beginning of the long supremacy of the whigs — ended Swift's political career and sent him to Ireland in despair. For six years he lived in retirement and inactivity. In England his writing had been put to the service of his ambition — " that I might be used like a lord/* he said, ^^by those who have an opinion of my parts, *^ — and had won him political and social position. Now his power was gone, he was caged up in Ireland, a country which he always regarded as a place of exile, and he could use his writing only to harass from a distance the triumphant whigs, who had caused his discomfiture. He saw an opportunity for attacking the whigs in the misgovernment of Ireland, and in 1720 he appeared as the champion of the Irish. It would be a mistake to regard the writings in which he sup- ported Irish interests as the work of purely disinterested patriotism. His first desire was undoubtedly to be avenged on the whigs, and as late as 1728 he says to Pope, — though some allowance must be made for Swift's cynicism, which is apt to undervalue even his own motives, — ^^Your kind opinion of me as a patriot, since you call it so, is what I do not deserve ; because what I do is owing to perfect rage and resentment, and the mor- XXXll IN TROD UCTION, tifying sight of slavery, folly, and baseness about me, among which I am forced to live. ' ' ^ But Swift probably grew during his long exile to have a genuine love and pity for the Irish, and certainly the most high-minded patriot could not have advocated the Irish cause more zealously and effectively. The condition of Ireland was indeed miserable.^ The native Irish were incredibly ignorant and brutal, and so poor that the island was filled with beggars. They were misguided by their priests and oppressed by their absentee landlords. The English settlers in Ireland, in whose in- terest Swift particularly writes, were little better off. Their industry was thwarted by an unsound currency and by tyrannical restrictions on trade, both imposed for the benefit of England. They were plundered by officers of the government, and the offices were always given to Englishmen. Ireland was in fact systematically mis- governed for the benefit of the English. Swift published in 1720 a Proposal /or the Universal Use of Irish Manufacture — ^'in clothes and the furni- ture of houses," the title continues, ^^ utterly rejecting and renouncing everything wearable that comes from England," — urging that the Irish, to retaliate against the trade laws which had ruined their woollen industry, should ^'boycott" the English and use only goods made in Ireland. Swift advocated the same measure often in later writings. Two years afterwards a new trouble arose in which 1 Swift to Pope, June i, 1728. 2 For an account of Ireland at this time, see Craik, Life of Swifts vol. ii, p. 50; Lecky, History of England in the Eighteenth Ceittury^ vol. ii, p. 215. INTRODUCTION, XXXIU Swift took an active part. In July, 1722, a patent was given by the English government to William Wood to provide Ireland with a copper coinage. Wood's half- pence, as the coins issued under this patent were called, were not intrinsically worth their face value, and the jnargin of profit thus created in the mintage, instead of going to the Irish, was to be distributed, ^1000 a year to the crow^n, ;^i 0,000 to the Duchess of Kendal, the king's mistress, for obtaining the patent, and the remainder, with expenses deducted, to Wood himself. The trans- action was effected in London, without reference to the Irish government, and by means of barefaced jobbery, which, as usual, plundered the Irish for the benefit of hangers-on of the English government. So much resist- ance to the measure was shown iti Ireland that the govern- ment, in April, 1724, was forced to open an inquiry before a committee of the privy council, which in July reported in favor of the patent with some reductions. While the committee was sitting and while the Irish were already at a high pitch of excitement, Swift published anonymously the first of the famous Drapier's Letters, It was a short pamphlet, signed ^' M. B. drapier,*' badly printed, and * ^ very proper, " the title-page says, ^^to be kept in every family." Addressing the ^^ tradesmen, shop- keepers, farmers, and country-people in general of the kingdom of Ireland," in the character of an untutored but shrewd Dublin draper, it urged that the acceptance of Wood's halfpence meant the utter ruin of the country. One can imagine that Swift, like Defoe, enjoyed playing an assumed part and arguing like a draper. The prin- ciples of political economy were little understood in 1 724, and the workings of the currency were then even more XXXIV IN TROD UCTION, than now regarded as mysterious. Swift was concerned with neither, except that ignorance made his task easier ; his only aim was to make a practically effective appeal to the Irish people. In its utter disregard of truth or even consistency of statement and in its insinuating style, the first Drapier's Letter is a model of unscrupulous and dema- gogical political writing. The reader should only re- member that political standards were lower then than now and that the means used on the other side called for such resistance. A second letter, published August 4th, proposed a general agreement to refuse the odious money, and a third, dated August 25th, examined the report of the committee of the privy council. Finally on the 23d of October appeared Letter IV, which is included in the present selection. It is the strongest of the letters in its style and in the ground that it takes. It deals less with the particular grievance of the coinage, more with the general relation of Ireland to England, and it can be regarded as a kind of declaration of Irish independence. '^All gov- ernment without the consent of the governed, ' ' Swift says, with a phrasing which recalls that of the Declaration of 1776, ^Msthevery definition of slavery"; and a little further on : *^ By the laws of God, of nature, of nations, and of your country, you [the whole people of Ireland] are and ought to be as free a people as your brethren of England." And again, in reply to those who assert that Ireland is a '^ depending kingdom," he exclaims: '^ Let whoever thinks otherwise I, M. B., drapier, desire to be excepted; for I declare, next under God, I depend only on the king my sovereign, and on the laws of my own country. And I am so far from depending upon the people of England, INTROD UCTION, XXXV that if they should ever rebel against my sovereign (which God forbid !) I would be ready, at the first command from his Majesty, to take arms against them, as some of my countrymen did against theirs at Preston/' There is still the same directness and admirable fitting of treatment to audience which make the first letter so effective in its per- suasion ; but to this is added an elevation and earnestness in the appeal beside which the mere cleverness of the first letter seems poor in comparison. In the fourth letter Swift rises almost to his best. The last of the tracts on the condition of Ireland ^ is the best known, the Modest Proposal for preventing the children of poor people in Ireland from being a burden to their parents or the Country, 1729. But though well known it is often misunderstood, because it is not read in connection with Swift's other expressions on Irish affairs and with allowance for his peculiar style. Swift makes his proposal in what seems to be cool earnest : ^ ^ I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaint- ance in London that a young healthy child, well nursed, is, at a year old, a most delicious, nourishing, and whole- some food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled ; and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee or a ragout.'' He sums up his argument and meets objec- tions with a great show of argumentative exactness. At first one sees in this nothing but a grim and hideous kind of humor, and imagines Swift indulging in cold blood in 2.jeu d' esprit at the expense of Irish misery. In fact, as one sees at second reading, there is a double irony, — an irony of statement and an irony of manner. In the first ^ Swift's chief writings on Irish affairs will be found together in vol. vii of Scott's edition. XXXVl INTRODUCTION, place, Swift as usual is literally saying one thing and meaning another, in a way that no one could misunder- stand, — though Scott, indeed, tells of a Frenchman who took him literally and actually imagined that he meant to provide Ireland with a new variety of food. In the second place — and here the misunderstanding usually arises — Swift is assuming the manner of a humorist when his aim is by no means to amuse, but, by the most effect- ive expression in his power, to call attention sharply to the wrongs of Ireland. As Craik remarks,^ ''he adopts the phraseology, the outward style, the mannerisms of the humorist ; but it is only to give intensity to the irony. ' ' The vehicle is irony, and, though Swift is by this time an inveterate eipoor to whom irony is perhaps easier than direct expression, he no doubt took satisfaction in carry- ing out the figure consistently. But to overlook Swift's serious purpose is entirely to misunderstand the piece. Take the passage in which Swift proposes remedies, the expedients rejected in the ironical presentation being of course the very ones which he wishes seriously to recom- mend, and note how Swift's vehemence shows through the irony: ''Therefore let no man talk to me of other expe- dients : of taxing our absentees at five shillings a pound : of using neither clothes, nor household-furniture, except what is our own growth and manufacture : of utterly re- jecting the materials and instruments that promote foreign luxury : of curing the expensiveness of pride, vanity, idle- ness, and gaming in our women ; of introducing a vein ofv parsimony, prudence, and temperance : of learning to love our country," and so on. It is only when one for- 1 Selections from Swift ^ vol. i, p. 1 44. INTRODUCTION, XXXVll gets Swift's mood and the condition of Ireland that one can read the Modest Proposal merely for its humor. VII. POLITE CONVERSATION. The Complete Collection of Genteel and Ingenious Con- versation, or as it is better known, Polite Conversation, the introduction to which closes the present volume, was pub- lished in 1738, probably after having lain in manuscript for some time. Swift's correspondence^ indicates that it was composed in 1731, but, if some humorous allusions in the introduction can be relied on,^ the material at least was gathered much earlier. Swift had probably for many years made notes of the *' choicest expressions'' which he met with in conversation. The book is directed against the faults which Swift condemns so often, cant and affec- tation — this time the cant and affectation of polite so- ciety. Its purpose, Swift writes to Gay in 1731,^ was * ' to reduce the whole politeness, wit, humor, and style of England into a short system, for the use of all persons of quality and particularly of all maids of honor;" or, to drop the irony, to show, by bringing together some of its cant phrases and vulgarities, how much ordinary polite conversation was lacking in saneness and originality. That the reform was needed is shown by the dialogue in comedies of the time dealing with polite society and by the papers on the subject in the Spectator,^ and Swift had 1 Swift to Gay, August 28, 1731; Swift to Pope, June 12, 1731. 2 See pp. 151-153. 3 May 28. * See Spectator, Nos. 155, 242, 533 ; Tatter, No. 153. XXXVIU INTRODUCTION, probably suffered often enough in meeting '^persons of quality" to write with both zest and truthfulness. A short specimen taken from Dialogue I of the conver- sation will give an idea of the kind of stupidity Swift intended to ridicule and will help to an understanding of the ^* introduction " printed in the text: *' Colonel [coughing]. I have got a sad cold. '^ Lady Answer all. Aye; 'tis well if one can get anything these hard times. ''''Miss [to Colonel]. Choke, chicken; there's more a hatching. ''''Lady Smart. Pray, Colonel, how did you get that cold? ''^ Lord Spar kish. Why, Madam, I suppose the Colonel got it by lying abed barefoot. ' '' Lady Answer all. Why, then. Colonel, you must take it for bet- ter for worse, as a man takes his wife. '''' Colonel. Well, ladies, I apprehend you without a constable. ^'' Miss. Mr. Neverout ! Mr. Neverout ! Come hither this mo- ment ! < '■ Lady Smart [imitating her]. Mr. Neverout ! Mr. Neverout ! I wish he were tied to your girdle. '■''Neverout. What's the matter ? Whose mare's dead now ? '* Miss. Take your labor for your pains; you may go back again, like a fool, as you came. '' Neverout. Well, Miss, if you deceive me a second time, 'tis my fault. '' Lady Smart. Colonel, methinks your coat is too short. ^' Colonel. It will be long enough before I get another, Madam." And so on through a long day which begins with an early call and ends with a party at quadrille which does > not break up '' till three in the morning.'^ The collection is supposed to be made by '^ Simon Wagstaff, Esq./' in whose character Swift writes the in- troduction. Wagstaff, who is himself ^^ well acquainted with the best families in town," and who is ^^ polite" rather than book-learned, manages in the course of the INTRODUCTION'. XXXIX introduction to give examples of many of the follies which Swift intended to satirize, and, as Saintsbury observes, '' to exhibit himself as ridiculous while discoursing to his own complete satisfaction. ' ^ He is saying throughout, of course, just the opposite of what Swift means, and his ^ ' polite ' ' introduction can therefore be taken as a final example of Swift's consummate skill in irony. 1 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. [The student should read at least a short account of Swift's life before taking up the present volume. The following chronology, compiled from the Dictionary of National Biography^ is included for casual reference.] 1667, November 30. Swift born. j 1668. Carried by his nurse to England. 167 1. Sent back to Ireland. 1673. Sent to grammar school of Kilkenny. 1682, April 24. Entered at Trinity College, Dublin. 1685. Graduates. 1688. Goes from Dublin to Leicester. 1689. Taken into Sir William Temple's family, 1690. Leaves Temple ; goes to Ireland. 169 1. Returns to Temple. 1692. Becomes M;A. at Oxford. '* First poetry published. 1694. Leaves Temple second time; goes to Ireland.- '^ October 28. Ordained deacon. 1694-5, January 13. Ordained priest ; and obtains prebend of Kilroot. 1696, May. Begins third stay with Temple. 1697. Resigns prebend of Kilroot. ^ ' Writes Battle, of the Books and Tale of a Tub, 1698-9, January 26. Temple dies. 1699. Swift returns to Ireland. 1699-1700, February. Receives living of Laracor. 1 70 1, February. Takes D.D. degree at Dublin. < ' April. Returns to London. ' ' Publishes Dissensions in Athens and Rome, xli xlii CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. 1701, September. Goes to Ireland, accompanied by Esther Johnson and Mrs. Dingley. 1702, April to November. Again in England- 1703, November. Goes to England. 1704, Publishes Battle of the Books and Tale of a Tub. " May. Returns to Ireland. 1705, April. Goes to England. 1706, In Ireland. 1707, November. Goes to England. ^* Publishes Predictions for the Year lyoS. 1708, Publishes Argument against Abolishing Christianity, Project for the Advancement of Religion, Sentifiients of a Church of pjigland Man, Letter on the Sacramental Test, <' Disagreement with whigs. 1709, June 30. Returns to Ireland. 1 7 10, September. Goes to England again. September 2. Begins yournal to Stella. Contributes to Steele's Tatler. October. Comes to an understanding with Harley. Attacks Godolphin in Sid Hamefs Rod. November 2 to 171 1, June 14. Writes Examiner. 171 1, November 27. VubMsho^s Conduct of the Allies. 1711-12, February. Writes Proposal for Correcting the English Language. 1713, April 23. Appointed dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin. *' June. Goes back to Ireland. *' September. Returns to England. ' '- Attacks Steele in The Importance of the Guardian Considered. 1 7 14, May. Retires to Berkshire. '*, Projects '■'• Scriblerus Club" with Pope and Arbuthnot. *' Writes Tree Thoughts on the Present State of Affairs. *' August 16. Leaves for Ireland. 17 16. Date given for alleged marriage to Stella. 1720. Publishes Proposal for the Universal Use of Irish Manu^ factures. 1722. Patent issued for Wood's coinage. 1724. First Drapier's Letter. '''- August 4. Second Drapier's Letter, '•'■ '' 25. Third Drapiers Letter. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE, xliil I "1^241 October 13. Fourth Drapier's Letter, '1725-6, March. Goes to London. 1726. Publishes Gulliver's Travels. 1727. Makes last visit to England. 1727-28, January 28. Stella dies. 1729. Publishes Modest Proposal. 1 73 1. Verses On the Death of Dr. Swift. 1733. Rhapsody on Poetry. 1736. The Legion Club. 1738. Polite Conversation published. 1 74 1-2, March. Guardians appointed for Swift. 1742, September. Entirely loses his mind. 1745, October 19. Swift dies. BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. o complete bibliography of Swift has ever been at- tempted. The fullest lists will be found in Stanley Lane- Poole's ^^ Notes for a Bibliography of Swift," in the ^Bibliographer^ 1884, vol. vi, pp. 1 60-1 71 (which con- tains helpful notes and references to the locations of some i of the early and rare editions), and the careful bibliog- raphy appended to Leslie Stephen's article on Swift in the Dictionary of National Biography. The following j titles of original editions — to which I have not had i access — are taken mainly from these two lists. The selections in the present volume, except the Tale i of a Tub and the Battle of the Books ^ which appeared 1 together, were all originally separate publications. The ' following are the first editions : (i) ^ Tale of a Tub, written for the universal improve- \ment of mankind ; to which is added an account of a battle I between the ancient and modern books in^St. fames* s Library, j London, 1704. I Two editions appeared in this year. The first is very I rare, and is not found in the British Museum ; copies are, I however, at the Bodleian and at Trinity College, Dublin, I The volume contain^, besides the contents indicated on I the title-page, *^ A Discourse on the Mechanical Opera- I tion of the Spirit." In 1705 William Wotton published with his Defense of the Reflections upon Ancient and Mod- ' em Learning * ^ Observations on the Tale of a Tub," I in which, fearing that its mischievous character might be i overlooked, he carefully explained the allegory of the Tale of a Tub in order to show it in its full force. Swift more than met this attack by turning Wotton 's scholarly i xlv xlvi BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. explanations into notes for the fifth edition, 1710, and by a curious irony Swift's bitterest assailant has thus fur- nished the basis for all subsequent annotation of the Tale of a Tub. Wotton's '' observations" have appeared in all the annotated editions and are the source of the notes credited to him in the present volume. (2) Alt Argument to prove that the abolishing 0/ Chris- tianity in England may, as things now stand, be attended^ with some inconveniences, and perhaps not produce the good effects proposed thereby. London, 1708. (3) ^ Letter to the Whole People of Ireland, by M. B., D rapier. Dublin, 1724. (4) ^ Modest Proposal for preventing the children of the poor from beijtg a burden to their parents or country^ and for 7?iaking them beneficial to the public. Dublin, 1729. ,^^ (5) A complete Collection of genteel and ingenious con- versation, according to the most polite mode and method now used at court, and in the best companies of England. Li three dialogues. By Simon Wagstaff, Esq. London, 1738. Numerous partial collections of Swift's writings were published during his lifetime. For a fairly complete list see Lane-Poole's notes, referred to above. Of collections published after his death, the first, which approaches completeness, was edited by Hawkesworth, with notes and a life of Swift, and published in twelve volumes in 1755. Later volumes, thirteen in number, were added to this edition, from 1762 to 1779, by Bowyer, Deane Swift, Hawkesworth, and Nichols. This was suc- ceeded in 1785 by an edition in seventeen volumes by Thomas Sheridan. Nichols brought out an edition in nineteen volumes in 180 1. In 18 14 appeared Sir Walter'] Scott's first edition, in nineteen volumes, with a second, j in 1824, which is still the standard edition of Swift. It j includes Scott's life of Swift, and, besides Scott's com-tl mentary, selected notes from earlier annotators, — Wot-'l ton, Hawkesworth, Sheridan, Nichols, and others,-— which I BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE, xlvil have often been drawn on for the notes in the present volume. Roscoe's two-volume edition of 1849 is hardly ' readable on account of the print. In 1883 Scott's edition was reprinted. A new edition by Temple Scott is now : being published in the Bohn Library series, eight vol- 1 umes having appeared up to the present time. Craik's !• Selections from Swift, 1892, in two volumes, gives many more selections than could be included in the present vol- j ume, and will be found to contain all that is of much j interest to any but the special student of Swift. The original sources of information for the life of Swift are, in the first place, his works and correspondence; and, in the second place, the early essays and biographies : Lord Orrery's Remarks upon the Lfe and Writings of fonathan Swift (1751) ; Dr. Delany's Observations upon Lord Orrery s Remarks (1754) ; Deane Swift's j£Vj^<2>' upon the Life, Writings, and Character of Dr. fonathan Swift (1755) ; Dr. Hawkesworth's Life (1755) ; and Thomas Sheridan's Life (1785). All these contemporary waiters, except Hawkesworth, possessed some direct and personal knowledge of Swift. Dr. Johnson's account of Swift in the Lives of the Poets (1781) is slight and colored by Johnson's unaccountable prejudice. Scott's Life (1814) is characterized by readableness rather than accuracy, but, like his annotation of Swift, collects into satisfactory form the work of earlier biographers. William Monck Mason included in his History of St. Patrick's (18 19) an ex- tended account of Swift's life. In 1875 John Forster published the first volume oi d. Life of Swift which was not completed at his death and comes dow^n only to 1 7 1 1 . The latest and most reliable life is Craik's (1885). For shorter accounts the reader is referred to the very good llife by Leslie Stephen in the '^English Men of Letters " j series, and to the sketch by the same writer in the Dic- ;,. tionary of National Biography , Churton CoWm'^'' s fonathan j Swift y a Biographical and Critical Study ^ should also be consulted. SELECTIONS FROM SWIFT H Uale of a XTub WRITTEN FOR THE UNIVERSAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND Diu multumque desideratum Sect. II. Once upon a time, there was a man v^ho had three sons by one wife, and all at a birth; neither could the midwife tell certainly, which was the eldest. Their father died while they were young; 5 and upon his death-bed, calling the lads to him, spoke thus : " Sons; because I have purchased no estate, nor was born to any, I have long considered of some good legacies to bequeath you; and at last, with o much care, as well as expense, have provided each of you (here they are) a new coat. Now, you are to understand, that these coats have two virtues contained in them; one is, that with good wearing, they will last you fresh and sound as long as you 5 live : the other is, that they will grow in the same proportion with your bodies, lengthening and widening of themselves, so as to be always fit 2 A TALE OF A TUB Here; let me see them on you before I die. So; very well; pray, children, wear them clean, and brush them often. You will find in, my will (here it is) full instructions in every particular concerning the wearing and management of your coats; wherein 5 you must be very exact, to avoid the penalties I have appointed for every transgression or neglect, upon which your future fortunes will entirely de- pend. I have also commanded in my will, that you should live together in one house like brethren and 10 friends, for then you will be sure to thrive, and not otherwise." Here the story says, this good father died, and the three sons went all together to seek their for- tunes. 15 I shall not trouble you with recounting what ad- ventures they met for the first seven years, any farther than by taking notice, that they carefully ob- served their father's will, and kept their coats in very good order: that they travelled through sev- 20 eral countries, encountered a reasonable quantity of giants, and slew certain dragons. Being now arrived at the proper age for pro- ducing themselves, they came up to town, and fell in love with the ladies, but especially three, who 25 about that time were in chief reputation; the Duchess d' Argent, Madame de Grands Titres, and the Countess d'Orgueil. On their first appearance, our three adventurers met with a very bad recep- tion; and soon with great sagacity guessing out 30 the reason, they quickly began to improve in the A TALE OF A TUB 3 good qualities of the town: they writ, and ralHed, and rhymed, and sung, and said, and said nothing: they drank, and fought, and slept, and swore, and took snuff: they went to new plays on the first 5 night, haunted the chocolate houses, beat the watch, and lay on bulks: they bilked hackney-coachmen, and ran in debt with shopkeepers: they killed bailiffs, kicked fiddlers down stairs, eat at Locket's, loitered at Will's: they talked of the drawing- loroom, and never came there: dined with lords they never saw: whispered a duchess, and spoke never a word: exposed the scrawls of their laundress for billetdoux of quality: came ever just from court, and were never seen in it: attended the levee sub 15 dio: got a list of peers by heart in one company, and with great familiarity retailed them in another. Above all, they constantly attended those commit- tees of senators, who are silent in the house, and loud in the coffee-house; where they nightly ad- 2ojourn to chew the cud of politics, and are encom- passed with a ring of disciples, who lie in wait to catch up their droppings. The three brothers had acquired forty other qualifications of the like stamp, too tedious to recount, and by consequence, were 25 justly reckoned the most accomplished persons in the town: but all would not suffice, and the ladies aforesaid continued still inflexible. To clear up which difficulty I must, with the reader's good leave and patience, have recourse to some points of 30 weight, which the authors of that age have not suf- ficiently illustrated. 4 A TALE OF A TUB For, about this time it happened a sect arose, whose tenets obtained and spread very far, espe- cially in the grand monde, and among everybody of good fashion. They worshipped a sort of idol, who, as their doctrine delivered, did daily create men by 5 a kind of manufactory operation. This idol they placed in the highest part of the house, on an altar erected about three foot : he was shewn in the pos- ture of a Persian emperor, sitting on a superficies^ with his legs interwoven under him. This god had a to goose for his ensign: whence it is that some learned men pretend to deduce his original from Jupiter Capitolinus. At his left hand, beneath the altar, Hell seemed to open, and catch at the animals the idol was creating; to prevent which, certain of his 15 priests hourly flung in pieces of the uninformed mass, or substance, and sometimes whole limbs al- ready enlivened, which that horrid gulf insatiably swallowed, terrible to behold. The goose was held a subaltern divinity or deus minorum gentium, before 20 whose shrine was sacrificed that creature whose hourly food is human gore, and who is in so great renown abroad for being the delight and favourite of the Egyptian Cercopithecus. Millions of these animals were cruelly slaughtered every day to ap- 25 pease the hunger of that consuming deity. The chief idol was also worshipped as the inventor of the yard and needle; whether as the god of seamen, or on account of certain other mystical attributes, has not been sufficiently cleared. 30 The worshippers of this deity had also a systt'V, A TALE OF A TUB 5 of their belief, which seemed to turn upon the fol- lowing fundamentals. They held the universe to be a large suit of clothes, which invests everything: that the earth is invested by the air; the air is in- 5 vested by the stars ; and the stars are invested by the primum mobile. Look on this globe of earth, you will find it to be a very complete and fashionable dress. What is that which some call land, but a fine coat faced with green? or the sea, but a waist- locoat of water-tabby? Pro'ceed to the particular works of the creation, you will find how curious journeyman Nature has been, to trim up the vege- table beaux; observe how sparkish a periwig adorns the head of a beech, and what a fine doublet of white 15 satin is worn by the birch. To conclude from all, what is man himself but a micro-coat, or rather a complete suit of clothes with all its trimmings? as to his body, there can be nO' dispute: but examine even the acquirements of his mind, you will find 20 them all contribute in their order towards furnish- ing out an exact- dress: to instance no more; is not religion a cloak; honesty a pair of shoes worn out in the dirt; self-love a surtout; vanity a shirt; and conscience a pair of breeches. 25 These postulata being admitted, it will follow in due course of reasoning, that those beings, which the world calls improperly suits of clothes, are in reality the most refined species of animals; or, to proceed higher, that they are rational creatures, 30 or men. For, is it not manifest, that they live, and move, and talk, and perform all other offices of 6 A TALE OF A TUB human life? are not beauty, and wit, and mien, and breeding, their inseparable proprieties? in short, we see nothing but them, hear nothing but them. Is it not they who walk the streets, fill up parlia- ment-, coffee-, play-houses? It is true, indeed, that 5 these animals, which are vulgarly called suits of clothes, or dresses, do, according to certain compo- sitions, receive different appellations. If one of them be trimmed up with a gold chain, and a red gown, and a white rod, and a great horse, it is lo called a lord-mayor: if certain ermines and furs be placed in a certain position, we style them a judge; and so an apt conjunction of lawn and black satin we entitle a bishop. Others of these professors, though agreeing in 15 the main system, were yet more refined upon cer- tain branches of it ; and held, that man was an ani- mal compounded of two dresses, the natural and celestial suit, which were the body and the soul: that the soul was the outward, and the body the in- 20 ward clothing; that the latter was ex tr advice] but the former of daily creation and circumfusion; this last they proved by scripture, because in them we live, and move, and have our being; as likewise by philosophy, because they are all in all, and all in 25 every part. Besides, said they, separate these two, and you will find the body to be only a senseless unsavoury carcase. By all which it is manifest, that the outward dress must needs be the soul. To this system of religion, were tagged several 30 subaltern doctrines, which were entertained with A TALE OF A TUB 7 great vogue; as particularly, the faculties of the mind were deduced by the learned among them in this manner; embroidery, was sheer wit; gold fringe, was agreeable conversation; gold lace, was I 5 repartee; a huge long periwig, was humour; and I a coat full of powder, was very good raillery: all which required abundance of finesse and delicatesse to manage with advantage, as well as a strict ob- servance after times and fashions. 10 I have, with much pains and reading, collected out of ancient authors, this short summary of a body of philosophy and divinity, which seems to have been composed by a vein and race of think- ing, very different from any other systems either an- 15 cient or modern. And it was not merely to enter- tain or satisfy the reader's curiosity, but rather to give him light into several circumstances of the fol- lowing story; that knowing the state of dispositions and opinions in an age so remote, he may better 2o comprehend those great events, which were the issue of them. I advise therefore the courteous reader to peruse with a world of application, again and again, whatever I have written upon this mat- ter. And leaving these broken ends, I carefully 25 gather up the chief thread of my story and proceed. These opinions, therefore, were so universal, as well as the practices of them, among the refined part of court and town, that our three brother- adventurers, as their circumstances then stood, 30 were strangely at a loss. For, on the one side, the three ladies they addressed themselves to, whom 8 A TALE OF A TUB we have named already, were at the very top of the fashion, and abhorred all that were below it the breadth of a hair. On the other side, their father's will was very precise, and it was the main precept in it, with the greatest penalties annexed, not to add 5 to, or diminish from their coats one thread, with- out a positive command in the will. Now, the coats their father had left them were, it is true, of very good cloth, and, besides, so neatly sewn, you would swear they were all of a piece; but, at the same 10 time, very plain, and with little or no ornament: and it happened, that before they were a month in town, great shoulder-knots came up; straight all the world was shoulder-knots; no approaching the ladies' ruelles without the quota of shoulder-knots. That 15 fellow, cries one, has no soul ; where is his shoulder- knot? Our three brethren soon discovered their want by sad experience, meeting in their walks with forty mortifications and indignities. If they went to the play-house, the door-keeper shewed them 20 into the twelve-penny gallery. If they called a boat, says a waterman, I am first sculler. If they stepped to the Rose to take a bottle, the drawer would cry, Friend, we sell no ale. If they went to visit a lady, a footman met them at the door, with. Pray send 25 up your message. In this unhappy case, they went immediately to consult their father's will, read it over and over, but not a word of the shoulder-knot: what should they do? what temper should they find? obedience was absolutely necessary, and yet 30 shoulder-knots appeared extremely requisite. After A TALE OF A TUB 9 much thought, one of the brothers, who happened to be more book-learned than the other two, said, he had found an expedient. It is true, said he, there is nothing here in this will, totidem verbis, making 5 mention of shoulder-knots: but I dare conjecture, we may find them inclusive^ or totidem syllabis. This distinction was immediately approved by all; . and so they fell again to examine the will; but their evil star had so directed the matter, that the 10 first syllable was not to be found in the whole writ- ings. Upon which disappointment, he, who found the former evasion, took heart, and said. Brothers, there are yet hopes; for though we cannot find them totidem verbis, nor totidem syllabis, I dare en- 15 gage we shall make them out, tertio modo, or totidem Uteris. This discovery was also highly commended, upon which they fell once more to the scrutiny, and picked out s,h,o,u,l,d,e,r; when the same planet, enemy to their repose, had wonderfully contrived, 2othat a K was not to be found. Here was a weighty difficulty! but'the distinguishing brother, for whom we shall hereafter find a name, now his hand was in, proved by a very good argument, that k was a modern, illegitimate letter, unknown to the learned 25 ages, nor anywhere to be found in ancient manu- scripts. 'Tis true said he, Calendse hath in q. v. c. been sometimes written with a k, but erroneously; for, in the best copies, it has ever been spelt with a c. And, by consequence, it was a gross mistake 30 in our language to spell knot with a k; but that from henceforward, he would take care it should lO A TALE OF A TUB be written with a c. Upon this all farther difficulty vanished; shoulder-knots were made clearly out to be jure paterno: and our three gentlemen swag- gered with as large and as flaunting ones as the best. But, as human happiness is of a very short 5 duration,, so in those days were human fashions, upon which it entirely depends. Shoulder-knots had their time, and we must now imagine them in their decline; for a certain lord came just from Paris, with fifty yards of gold lace upon his coat, lo exactly trimmed after the court fashion of that month. In two days all mankind appeared closed up in bars of gold lace : whoever durst peep abroad without his complement of gold lace, was ill re- ceived among the women: what should our tliree 15 knights do in this momentous affair? They had sufficiently strained a point already in the affair of shoulder-knots: upon recourse to the will, noth- ing appeared there but altum silentium. That of the shoulder-knots was a loose, flying, circum- 20 stantial point; but this of gold lace seemed too considerable an alteration without better warrant; it did aliqtio modo essentice adhcerere, and therefore required a positive precept. But about this time it fell out, that the learned brother aforesaid had read 25 Aristotelis dialectica, and especially that wonderful piece de interpretatione, which has the faculty of teaching its readers to find out a meaning in every- thing but itself; like commentators on the Revela- tions, who proceed prophets without understanding 30 a syllable of the text. Brothers, said he, you are A TALE OF A TUB II to be informed, that of wills duo sunt genera, nun- cupatory and scriptory; that in the scriptory will' here before us, there is no precept or mention about gold lace, eonceditur: but, si idem affirmetur de nun- 5 cupatorio, negatur. For, brothers, if you remember, we heard a fellow say, when we were boys, that he heard my father's man say, that he heard my father say, that he would advise his sons to get gold lace on their coats, as soon as ever they could procure 10 money to buy it. By G — ! that is very true, cried the other; I remember it perfectly well, said the third. And so without more ado got the largest gold lace in the parish, and walked about as fine as lords. 15 A while after there came up all in fashion a pretty sort of fliame-coloured satin for linings ; and the mercer brought a pattern of it immediately to our three gentlemen: An please your worships, said he, my Lord C and Sir J. W. had linings 20 out of this very piece last night; it takes wonder- fully, and I shall not have a remnant left enough to make my wife a pin-cushion, by to-morrow morning at ten o'clock. Upon this, they fell again' to rummage the will, because the present case also 25 required a positive precept, the lining being held by orthodox writers to be of the essence of the coat. After long search, they could fix upon nothing to the matter in hand, except a short advice of their father in the will, to take care of fire, and put out 30 their candles before they went to sleep. This, though a good deal for the purpose, and helping 12 A TALE OP A TUB very far towards self-conviction, yet not seeming wholly of force to establish a command; (being resolved to avoid farther scruple, as well as future occasion for scandal,) says he that was the scholar, I remember to have read in wills of a codicil an- 5 nexed, which is indeed a part of the will, and what it contains has equal authority with the rest. Now, I have been considering of this same will here be- fore us, and I cannot reckon it to be complete for want of such a codicil : I will therefore fasten one 10 in its proper place very dexterously: I have had it by me some time; it was written by a dog-keeper of my grandfather's, and talks a great deal, as good luck would have it, of this very flame-coloured satin. The project was immediately approved by 15 the other two; an old parchment scroll was tagged on according to art, in the form of a codicil an- nexed, and the satin bought and worn. Next winter a player, hired for the purpose by the corporation of fringe-makers^ acted his part in 20 a new comedy, all covered with silver fringe, and, according to the laudable custom, gave rise to that fashion. Upon which the brothers, consulting their father's will, to their great astonishment found these words; item^ I charge and command 25 my said three sons to wear no sort of silver fringe upon or about their said coats, &c., with a penalty, in case of disobedience, too long here to insert. However, after some pause, the brother so often mentioned for his erudition, who was well skilled 30 in criticisms, had found in a certain author, which A TALE OF A TUB 13 he said should be nameless, that the same word, which, in the will, is called fringe, does also signify a broom-stick : and doubtless ought to have the same interpretation in this paragraph. This an- 5 other of the brothers disliked, because of that epithet silver, which could not, he humbly con- ceived, in propriety of speech, be reasonably ap- plied to a broom-stick : but it was replied upon him, that his epithet was understood in a mytho- lo logical and allegorical sense. However, he object- ed again, why their father should forbid them to wear a broom-stick on their coats, a caution that seemed unnatural and impertinent ; upon which he was taken up short, as one who spoke irreverently 15 of a mystery, which doubtless was very useful and significant, but ought not to be over-curiously pried into, or nicely reasoned upon. And, in short, their father's authority being now considerably sunk, this expedient was allowed to serve as a law- 20 ful dispensation for wearing their full proportion of silver fringe. , A while after was revived an old fashion, long antiquated, of embroidery with Indian figures of men, women, and children. Here they had no 25 occasion to examine the will ; they remembered but too well how their father had always abhorred this fashion; that he made several paragraphs on purpose, importing his utter detestation of it, and bestowing his everlasting curse to his sons, when- 30 ever they should wear it. For all this, in a few days they appeared higher in the fashion than any- 14 A TALE OF A TUB body else in the town. But they solved the matter by saying, that these figures were not at all the same with those that were formerly worn, and were meant in the will. Besides, they did not wear them in the sense as forbidden by their father; but as 5 they were a commendable custom, and of great use to the public. That these rigorous clauses in the will did therefore require some allowance, and a favourable interpretation, and ought to be under- stood cum grano salis, 10 But fashions perpetually altering in that age, the scholastic brother grew weary of searching farther evasions, and solving everlasting contradictions. Resolved, therefore, at all hazards, to comply with the modes of the world, they concerted matters to- 15 gether, and agreed unanimously to lock up their father's will in a strong box, brought out of Greece or Italy, I have forgotten which^ and trouble them- selves no farther to examine it, but only refer to its authority whenever they thought fit. In conse-20 quence whereof, a while after it grew a general mode to wear an infinite number of points, most of them tagged with silver : upon which, the scholar pronounced ex cathedra^ that points were absolutely jure paterno, as they might very well remember. It 25 is true, indeed, the fashion prescribed somewhat more than were directly named in the will; how- ever, that they, as heirs-general of their father, had power to make and add certain clauses for public emolument, though not deducible, totidem verbis, 30 from the letter of the will, or else multa absurda A TALE OF A TUB 15 sequerentur. This was understood for canonical, and therefore, on the following Sunday, they came to church all covered with points. The learned brother^ so often mentioned, was 5 reckoned the best scholar in all that, or the next street to it; insomuch as,, having run something behind-hand in the world, he obtained the favour of a certain lord, to receive him into his house, and to teach his children. A while after the lord died, lo and he, by long practice of his father's will, found the way of contriving a deed of conveyance of that house to himself and his heirs ; upon which he took possession, turned the young squires out, and re- ceived his brothers in their stead. Sect. IV.— ^ Tale of a Tub. 15 I have now, with much pains and study, conduct- ed the reader to a period, where he must expect to hear of great, revolutions. For no sooner had our learned brother, so often mentioned, got a warm house of his own over his head, than he began to 20 look big, and take mightily upon him ; insomuch, that unless the gentle reader, out of his great can- dour, will please a little to exalt his idea, I am afraid he will henceforth hardly know the hero of the play, when he happens to meet him ; his part, 25 his dress, and his mien being so much altered. He told his brothers, he would have them to know that he was their elder, and consequently his l6 A TALE OF A TUB father's sole heir; nay, a while after, he would not allow them to call him brother, but Mr. Peter; and then he must be styled Father Peter; and some- times, My Lord Peter. To support this grandeur, which he soon began to consider could not be 5 maintained without a better fonde than what he was born to ; after much thought, he cast about at last to turn projector and virtuoso, wherein he so well succeeded, that many famous discoveries, projects, and machines^ which bear great vogue and 10 practice at present in the world, are owing entirely to Lord Peter's invention. I will deduce the best account I have been able to collect of the chief among them, without considering much the order they came out in; because, I think, authors are 15 not well agreed as to that point. I hope, when this treatise of mine shall be trans- lated into foreign languages (as I may without van- ity affirm, that the labour of collecting, the faithful- ness in recounting, and the great usefulness of the 20 matter to the public, will amply deserve that justice) that the worthy memb'ers of the several academies abroad, especially those of France and Italy, will favourably accept these humble offers, for the ad- vancement of universal knowledge. I do also 25 advertise the most reverend fathers, the Eastern Missionaries, that I have, purely for their sakes, made use of such words and phrases, as will best admit an easy turn into any of the oriental lan- guages^ especially the Chinese. And so I proceed 30 with great content of mind, upon reflecting, how A TALE OF A TUB 1/ much emolument this whole globe of the earth is likely to reap by my labours. The first undertaking of Lord Peter, was, to pur- chase a large continent, lately said to have been 5 discovered in terra australis incognita. This tract of land he bought at a very great penny-worth, from the discoverers themselves, (though some pretend to doubt whether they had ever been there,) and then retailed it into several cantons to lo certain dealers, who carried over colonies, but were all shipwrecked in the voyage. Upon which Lord Peter sold the said continent to other customers again, and again, and again, and again, with the same success. 15 The second project I shall mention, was his sove- reign remedy for the worms, especially those in the spleen. The patient was to eat nothing after supper for three nights : as soon as he went to bed, he was carefully to lie on one side, and when he 20 grew weary, to turn upon the other ; he must also duly confine his two eyes to the same object. These prescriptions diligently observed, the worms would void insensibly by perspiration, ascending through the brain. 25 A third invention was the erecting of a whis- pering-office, for the pubHc good, and ease of all such as are hypochondriacal, or troubled with the colic; as midwives, small politicians, friends fallen out, repeating poets, lovers happy or in despair, 30 privy-counsellors, pages, parasites, and bufifoons : in short, of all such as are in danger of bursting l8 A TALE OF A TUB with too much wind. An ass's head was placed so conveniently, that the party affected, might easily with his mouth accost either of the animal's ears ; to which he was to apply close for a certain space, and by a fugitive faculty, peculiar to the ears of 5 that animal, receive immediate benefit, either by eructation, or expiration, or evomitation. Another very beneficial project of Lord Peter's was, an office of insurance for tobacco-pipes, mar- tyrs of the modern zeal, volumes of poetry, shad- 10 ows, — and rivers : that these, nor any of these, shall receive damage by fire. Whence our friendly societies may plainly find themselves to be only transcribers from this original ; though the one and the other have been of great benefit to the under- 15 takers, as well as of equal to the public. Lord Peter was also held the original author of puppets and raree-shows; the great usefulness whereof being so generally known, I shall not en- large farther upon this particular. 20 But another discovery, for which he was much renowned, was his famous universal pickle. For, having remarked how your common pickle, in use among housewives, was of no farther benefit than to preserve dead flesh, and certain kinds of vege-25 tables, Peter, with great cost as well as art, had contrived a pickle proper for houses, gardens, towns, men, women, children, and cattle ; where'n he could preserve them as sound as insects in amber. Now, this pickle to the taste, the smell, 30 and the sight, appeared exactly the same with what A TALE OF A TUB 1 9 is in common service for beef, and butter, and her- rings, and has been often that way appHed with great success ; but, for its many sovereign virtues, was a quite different thing. For Peter would put 5 in a certain quantity of his powder pimperHm- pimp, after which it never failed of success. The operation was performed by spargefaction, in a proper time of the moon. The patient, who was to be pickled, if it were a house, would infallibly be lo preserved from all spiders, rats, and weasels; if the party affected were a dog, he should be exempt from mange, and madness, and hunger. It also infallibly took away all scabs, and lice, and scalled heads from children, never hindering the patient 15 from any duty, either at bed or board. But of all Peter's rarities, he most valued a cer- tain set of bulls, whose race was by great fortune preserved in a lineal descent from those that guarded the golden fleece. Though some, who 20 pretended to observe them curiously, doubted the breed had not been kept entirely chaste ; because they had degenerated from their ancestors in some qualities, and had acquired others very extraordi- nary, by a foreign mixture. The bulls of Colchis 25 are recorded to have brazen feet ; but whether it happened by ill pasture and running, by an alloy from intervention of other parents, from stolen in- trigues ; whether a weakness in their progenitors had impaired the seminal virtue, or by a decline 30 necessary through a long course of time, the orig- inals of nature being depraved in these latter sinful 20 A TALE OF A TUB ages of the world ; whatever was the cause, it is certain, that Lord Peter's bulls were extremely vitiated by the rust of time in the metal of their feet, which was now sunk into comimon lead. However, the terrible roaring, peculiar to their 5 lineage, was preserved ; as likewise that faculty of breathing out fire from their nostrils ; which, not- withstanding, many of their detractors took to be a feat of art ; to be nothing so terrible as it ap- peared ; proceeding only from their usual course 10 of diet, which was of squibs and crackers. How- ever, they had two peculiar marks, which extremely distinguished them from the bulls of Jason, and I have not met together in the description of any other monster^ beside that in Horace : — 15 '^ Varias inducere plumas; " and ''Atrum desinit in piscem." For these had fishes' tails, yet upon occasion could outfly any bird in the air. Peter put these bulls 20 upon several employs. Sometimes he would set them a-roaring to fright naughty boys, and make them quiet. Sometimes he would send them out upon errands of great importance; where, it is won- derful to recount, (and perhaps the cautious reader 25 may think much to believe it,) an appetitus scnsi- bilis deriving itself through the whole family from their noble ancestors, guardians of the golden fleece, they continued so extremely fond cf gold that if Peter sent them abroad, though it were only 30 A TALE OF A TUB 21 Upon a Gompliment, they would roar, and spit, and snivel out fire, and keep a perpetual coil, till you flung them a bit of gold; but then, pulvcris exigui jactu, they would grow calm and quiet as lambs. 5 In short, whether by secret connivance, or encour- agement from their master, or out of their own liquorish affection to gold^ or both, it is certain they were no better than a sort of sturdy, swag- gering beggars ; and where they could not prevail 10 to get an alms, would make women miscarry, and children fall into fits, who to this very day, usually call sprites and hobgoblins by the name of bull- beggars. They grew at last so very troublesome to the neighbourhood, that some gentlemen of the 15 north-west got a parcel of right English bull-dogs, and baited them so terribly, that they felt it ever after. I must needs mention one more of Lord Peter's projects, which was very extraordinary, and dis- 20 covered him to be master of a high reach, and pro- found invention. Whenever it happened, that any rogue of Newgate was condemned to be hanged, Peter would offer him a pardon for a certain sum of money; which when the poor caitiff had made 25 all shifts to scrape up, and send, his lordship would return a piece of paper in this form. " TO all mayors, sheriffs, jailors, constables, bailiffs, hangmen, &c. Whereas we are informed, that A. B. remains in the hands of you, or some of 30 you, imder the sentence of death. We will and 22 A TALE OF A TUB command you, upon sight hereof, to let the said prisoner depart to his own habitation, whether he stands condemned for murder, rape, sacrilege, in- cest, treason, blasphemy, &c. for which this shall be your sufficient warrant : and if you fail hereof, 5 G- — d — mn you and yours to all eternity. And so we bid you heartily farewell. Your most humble man's man, Emperor PETER. 10 The wretches, trusting to this, lost their lives and money too. I desire of those, whom the learned among pos- terity will appoint for commentators upon this elaborate treatise, that they will proceed with great 15 caution upon certain dark points, wherein all, who are not vere adepti, may be in danger to form rash and hasty conclusions, especially in some mysteri- ous paragraphs, where certain arcana are joined for brevity sake, which in the operation must be 20 divided. And I am certain, that future sons of art will return large thanks to my memory, for so grateful, so useful an innuendo. It will be no difficult part to persuade the reader, that so many worthy discoveries met with great 25 success in the world; though I may justly assure him, that I have related much the smallest number ; my design having been only to single out such as will be of most benefit for public imitation, or which best served to give some idea of the reach 30 A TALE OF A TUB 23 and wit of the inventor. And therefore it need not be wondered at^ if, by this time, Lord Peter was become exceeding rich : but, alas ! he had kept his brain so long and so violently upon the rack, 5 that at last it shook itself, and began to turn round for a little ease. In short, what with pride, proj- ects, and knavery, poor Peter was grown dis- tracted, and conceived the strangest imaginations in the world. In the height of his fits, as it is usual 10 with those who run mad out of pride, he would call himself God Almighty, and sometimes monarch of the universe. I have seen him (says my author) take three old high-crowned hats, and clap them all on his head three story high, with a huge bunch 15 of keys at his girdle, and an angling-rod in his hand. In which guise, whoever went to take him by the hand in the way of salutation, Peter wdth much grace, like a well-educated spaniel^ would present them with his foot; and if they refused his 20 civility, then he would raise it as high as their chaps, and give them a damned kick on the mouth, which hath ever since been called a salute. Who- ever walked by without paying him their compli- ments, having a wonderful strong breath, he would 25 blow their hats off into the dirt. Meantime his affairs at home went upside down, and his two brothers had a wretched time ; where his first boutade was, to kick both their wives one morning out of doors, and his own too; and in their stead, 30 gave orders to pick up the first three strollers that could be met with in the streets. A while after he 24 A TALE OF A TUB nailed up the cellar-door; and would not allow his brothers a drop of drink to their victuals. Dining one day at an alderman's in the city, Peter ob- served him expatiating, after the manner of his brethren, in the praises of his sirloin of beef. Beef, 5 said the sage magistrate, is the king of meat; beef comprehends in it the quintessence of partridge, and quail, and venison, and pheasant, and plum- pudding, and custard. When Peter came home, he would needs take the fancy of cooking up this 10 doctrine into use, and apply the precept, in default of a sirloin, to his brown loaf : Bread, says he, dear brothers, is the staff of life ; in which bread is con- tained, inclusive, the quintessence of beef, mutton, veal, venison, partridge, plum-pudding, and cus- 15 tard : and, to render all complete, there is inter- mingled a due quantity of water, whose crudities are also corrected by yeast or barm ; through which means it becomes a wholesome fermented liquor, diffused through the mass of the bread. 20 Upon the strength of these conclusions, next day at dinner, was the brown loaf served up in all the formality of a city feast. Come, brothers, said Peter, fall to, and spare not ; here is excellent good mutton; or hold, now my hand is in, I will help 25 you. At which word, in much ceremony, with fork and knife, he carves out two good slices of a loaf, and presents each on a plate to his brothers. The elder of the two, not suddenly entering into Lord Peter's conceit, began with very civil Ian- 30 guage to examine the mystery. My lord, said he, A TALE OF A TUB 2^ I doubt, with great submission, there may be some mistake. What, says Peter, you are pleasant; come then, let us hear this jest your head is so big with. None in the world, my lord; but, unless I 5 am very much deceived, your lordship was pleased a while ago to let fall a word about mutton, and I would be glad to see it with all my heart. How, said Peter appearing in great surprise, I do not comprehend this at all. — Upon which, the younger lo interposing to set the business aright; My lord, said he, my brother, I suppose, is hungry, and longs for the mutton your lordship hath promised us to dinner. Pray, said Peter, take me along with you; either you are both mad, or disposed to be 15 merrier than I approve of; if you there do not like your piece, I will carve you another : though I should take that to be the choice bit of the whole shoulder. What then, my lord, replied the first, it seems this is a shoulder of mutton all this while? 20 Pray, sir, says Peter, eat your victuals, and leave off your impertinence, if you please, for I am not disposed to relish it at present : but the other could not forbear, being over-provoked at the affected seriousness of Peter's countenance : By G — , my 25 lord, said he, I can only say, that to my eyes, and fingers, and teeth, and nose, it seems to be nothing but a crust of bread. Upon which the second put in his word : I never saw a piece of mutton in my life so nearly resembling a slice from a twelve- 30 penny loaf. Look ye, gentlemen, cries Peter in a rage, to convince you what a couple of blind, posi- 26 A TALE OF A TUB tive, ignorant, wilful puppies you are, I will use but this plain argument ; by G — , it is true, good, natu- ral mutton as any in Leadenhall market; and G — confound you both eternally, if you offer to be- lieve otherwise. Such a thundering proof as this 5 left no farther room for objection; the two unbe- lievers began to gather and pocket up their mistake as hastily as they could. Why, truly, said the first, upon more mature consideration — Ay, says the other, interrupting him, now I have thought better 10 on the thing, your lordship seems to have a great deal of reason. Very well, said Peter; here, boy, fill me a beer-glass of claret; here's to you both, with all my heart. The two brethren, much de- lighted to see him so readily appeased, returned 15 their most humble thanks, and said they would be glad to pledge his lordship. That you shall, said Peter; I am not a person to refuse you anything that is reasonable : wine, moderately taken, is a cor- dial ; here is a glass a-piece for you ; it is true natu- 20 ral juice from the grape, none of your damned vint- ner's brewings. Having spoken thus^ he presented to each of them another large dry crust, bidding them drink it off, and not be bashful, for it would do them no hurt. The two brothers, after having 25 performed the usual office in such delicate con- junctures, of staring a sufficient period at Lord Peter and each other, and finding how matters were likely to go, resolved not to enter on a new dispute, but let him carry the point as he pleased : 30 for he was now got into one of his mad fits, and to A TALE OF A TUB 2*] argue or expostulate farther, would only serve to render him a hundred times more untractable. I have chosen to relate this worthy matter in all its circumstances, because it gave a principal occa- 5 sion to that great and famous rupture, which hap- pened about the same time among these brethren, and was never afterwards made up. But of that I shall treat at large in another section. However, it is certain, that Lord Peter, even in lo his lucid intervals, was very lewdly given in his common conversation^ extreme wilful and positive, and would at any time rather argue to the death, •than allow himself once to be in an error. Besides, he had an abominable faculty of telling huge pal- 15 pable lies upon all occasions ; and not only swearing to the truth, but cursing the whole company to hell, if they pretended to make the least scruple of believing him. One time he swore he had a cow at home, which gave as much milk at a meal, as 20 would fill three thousand churches ; and what was yet more extraordinary, would never turn sour. Another time he was telling of an old sign-post, that belonged to his father, with nails and timber enough in it to build sixteen large men of war. 25 Talking one day of Chinese waggons, which were made so light as to sail over mountains, Z — ds, said Peter, where's the wonder of that ? by G — , I saw a large house of lime and stone travel over sea and land, (granting that it stopped sometimes to 30 bait,) above two thousand German leagues. And that which was the good of it, he would swear des- 28 A TALE OF A TUB perately all the while, that he never told a lie in his life; and at every word; by G — , gentlemen, I tell you nothing but the truth : and the D — 1 broil them eternally, that will not believe me. In short, Peter grew so scandalous, that all the 5 neighbourhood began in plain words to say, he was no better than a knave. And his two brothers, long weary of his ill-usage, resolved at last to leave him; but first, they humbly desired a copy of their father's will, which had now lain by neglected time lo out of mind. Instead of granting this request, he called them damned sons of whores, rogues, trait- ors, and the rest of the vile names he could muster up. However, while he was abroad one day upon his projects, the two youngsters watched their 15 opportunity, made a shift to come at the will, and took a copia vera, by which they presently saw how grossly they had been abused; their father having left them equal heirs, and strictly commanded, that whatever they got, should lie in common among 20 them all. Pursuant to which, their next enterprise was, to break open the cellar-door, and get a little good drink, to spirit and comfort their hearts. In copying the will, they had met another precept against whoring, divorce, and separate mainte- 25 nance ; upon which their next work was to discard their concubines, and send for their wives. While all this was in agitation, there enters a solicitor from Newgate, desiring Lord Peter would please procure a pardon for a thief that was to be hanged 30 to-morrow. But the two brothers told him, he was A TALE OF A TUB 29 a coxcomb to seek pardons from a fellow who de- served to be hanged much better than his client; and discovered all the method of that imposture^ in the same form I delivered it a while ago, advis- 5 ing the solicitor to put his friend upon obtaining a pardon from the king. In the midst of all this clutter and revolution, in comes Peter with a file of dragoons at his heels, and gathering from all hands what was in the wind, he and his gang, after sev- 10 eral millions of scurrilities and curses, not very important here to repeat, by main force very fairly kicked them both out of doors, and would never let them come. under his roof from that day to this. Sect. VI. — A Tale of a Tub. We left Lord Peter in open rupture with his two 15 brethren; both for ever discarded from his house, and resigned to the wide world, with little or nothing to trust to. Which are circumstances that render them proper subjects for the charity of a writer's pen to work on; scenes of misery ever 20 affording the fairest harvest for great adventures. And in this, the world may perceive the difference between the integrity of a generous author and that of a common friend. The latter is observed to adhere close in prosperity, but on the decline of 25 fortune, to drop suddenly off. Whereas the gen- erous author, just on the contrary, finds his hero on the dunghill, from thence by gradual steps raises him to a throne, and then immediately withdraws. 30 A TALE OF A TUB expecting not so much as thanks for his pains ; in imitation of which example, I have placed Lord Peter in a noble house, given him a title to wear, and money to spend. There I shall leave him for some time ; returning where common charity directs 5 me, to the assistance of his two brothers, at their lowest ebb. However, I shall by no means forget my character of an historian to follow the truth step by step, whatever happens, or wherever it may lead me. 10 The two exiles, so nearly united in fortune and interest, took a lodging together; where, at their first leisure, they began to reflect on the numberless misfortunes and vexations of their past life, and could no't tell on the sudden, to what failure in their 15 conduct they ought to impute them : when, after some recollection, they called to mind the copy of their father's will, which they had so happily recov- ered. This was immediately produced, and a firm resolution taken between them, to alter whatever 20 was already amiss, and reduce all their future measures to the strictest obedience prescribed there- in. The main body of the will (as the reader can- not easily have forgot) consisted in certain admir- able rules about the wearing of their coats ; in the 25 perusal whereof, the two brothers, at every period, duly comparing the doctrine with the practice, there was never seen a wider difference between two things; horrible downright transgressions of every point. Upon which they both resolved, 30 without further delay, to fall immediately upon re- A TALE OF A TUB 31 ducing the whole, exactly after their father's model. But, here it is good to stop the hasty reader, ever impatient to see the end of an adventure, be- fore we writers can duly prepare him for it. I am 5 to record, that these two brothers began to be dis- tinguished at this time by certain names. One of them desired to be called Martin, and the other took the appellation of Jack. These two had lived in much friendship and agreement^ under the 10 tyranny of their brother Peter, as it is the talent of fellow-sufferers to 4o; men in misfortune, being like men in the dark, to whom all colours are the same : but when they came forward into the world, and began to display themselves to each other, and 15 to the light, their complexions appeared extremely different ; which the present posture of their affairs gave them sudden opportunity to discover. But, here the severe reader may justly tax me as a writer of short memory, a deficiency to which a 20 true modern cannot but, of necessity, be a little subject. Because, memory being an employment of the mind upon things past, is a faculty for which the learned in our illustrious age have no manner of occasion, who deal entirely with invention, and 25 strike all things out of themselves, or at least by collision from each other : upon which account, we think it highly reasonable to produce our great for- getfulness, as an argument unanswerable for our great wit. I ought in method to have informed 30 the reader^ about fifty pages ago, of a fancy Lord Peter took, and infused into his brothers, to wear 32 A TALE OF A TUB on their coats whatever trimmings came up in fashion ; never pulHng off any, as they went out of the mode, but keeping on all together, which amounted in time to a medley the most antic you can possibly conceive; and this to a degree, that 5 upon the time of their falling out, there was hardly a thread of the original coat to be seen : but an in- finite quantity of lace and ribbons, and fringe, and embroidery, and points ; I mean only those tagged with silver, for the rest fell off. Now this material 10 circumstance having been forgot in due place, as good fortune hath ordered, comes in very properly here, when the two brothers are just going to re- form their vestures into the primitive state, pre- scribed by their father's will. 15 They both unanimously entered upon this great work, looking sometimes on their coats, and some- times on the will. Martin laid the first hand; at one twitch brought off a large handful of points; and, with a second pull, stripped away ten dozen 20 yards of fringe. But when he had gone thus far, he demurred a while : he knew very well there yet remained a great deal more to be done; however, the first heat being over, his violence began to cool, and he resolved to proceed more moderately in the 25 rest of the work ; having already narrowly escaped a swinging rent in pulling off the points, which, being tagged with silver (as we have observed be- fore) the judicious workman had, with much saga- city, double sewn, to preserve them from falling. 30 Resolving therefore to rid his coat of a huge quan- A TALE OF A TUB 33 tity of gold-lace, he picked up the stitches with much caution, and diligently gleaned out all the loose threads as he went, which proved to be a work of time. Then he fell about the embroidered In- 5 dian figures of men, women, and children; against which, as you have heard in its due place, their father's testament was extremely exact and severe : these, with much dexterity and application, were, after a while, quite eradicated, or utterly defaced. lo For the rest, where he observed the embroidery to be worked so close, as not to be got away without damaging the cloth, or where it served to hide or strengthen any flaw in the body of the coat, con- tracted by the perpetual tampering of workmen 15 upon it ; he concluded, the wisest course was to let it remain, resolving in no case whatsoever, that the substance of the stufif should sufifer injury ; which he thought the best method for serving the true intent and meaning of his father's will. And this is the 20 nearest account I have been able to collect of Mar- tin's proceedings upon this great revolution. But his brother Jack, whose adventures will be so extraordinary, as to furnish a great part in the remainder of this discourse, entered upon the mat- 25 ter with other thoughts, and a quite different spirit. For the memory of Lord Peter's injuries, produced a degree of hatred and spite, which had a much greater share of inciting him, than any regards after his father's commands ; since these appeared, 30 at best, only secondary and subservient to the other. However, for this medley of humour, he 34 A TALE OF A TUB made a shift to find a very plausible name, honour- ing it with the title of zeal; which is perhaps the most significant word that hath been ever yet pro- duced in any language; as, I think, I have fully proved in my excellent analytical discourse upon 5 that subject; wherein I have deduced a histori- theo-physi-logical account of zeal, shewing how it first proceeded from a notion into a word, and thence, in a hot sumimer, ripened into a tangible substance. This work, containing three large vol- 10 umes in folio, I design very shortly to publish by the modern way of subscription^ not doubting but the nobility and gentry of the land will give me all possible encouragement; having had already such a taste of what I am able to perform. 15 I record, therefore, that brother Jack, brimful of this miraculous compound, reflecting with indigna- tion upon Peter's tyranny, and farther provoked by the despondency of Martin, prefaced his resolutions to this purpose. What, said he, a rogue that 20 locked up his drink, turned away our wives, cheated us of our fortunes ; palmed his damned crusts upon us for mutton; and, at last, kicked us out of doors; must we be in his fashions, with a plague ! a rascal, besides, that all the street cries out against. Hav- 25 ing thus kindled and inflamed himself, as high as possible, and by consequence in a delicate temper for beginning a reformation, he set about the work immediately ; and in three minutes made more dis- patch than Martin had done in as many hours. 30 For, courteous reader, you are given to understand, A TALE OF A TUB 35 that zeal is never so highly obliged, as when you set it a-tearing ; and Jack, who doated on that qual- ity in himself, allowed it at this time its full swing. Thus it happened, that, stripping down a parcel of 5 gold lace a little too hastily, he rent the main body of his coat from top to bottom ; and whereas his talent was not of the happiest in taking up a stitch, he knew no better way, than to darn it again wilh packthread and a skewer. But the matter was yet lo infinitely worse (I record it with tears) when he proceeded to the embroidery : for, being clumsy by nature, and of temper impatient ; withal, beholding millions of stitches that required the nicest hand, and sedatest constitution, to extricate ; in a great 15 rage he tore off the whole piece, cloth and all, and flung it into the kennel, and furiously thus con- tinuing his career : Ah, good brother Martin, said he, do as I do, for the love of God ; strip, tear, pull, rend, flay off all, that we may appear as unhke the 20 rogue Peter as it is possible ; I would not, for a hundred pounds, carry the least mark about me, that might give occasion to the neighbours of sus- pecting that I was related to such a rascal. But Martin, who at this time happened to be extremely 25 phlegmatic and sedate, begged his brother, of all love, not to damage his coat by any means ; for he never would get such another : desired him to con- sider, that it was not their business to form their actions by any reflection upon Peter, but by ob- 30 serving the rules prescribed in their father's will That he should remember, Peter was still their 36 ' A TALE OF A TUB brother, whatever faults or injuries he had com- mitted; and therefore they should, by all means, avoid such a thought as that of taking measures for good and evil, from no other rule than of oppo- sition to him. That it was true, the testament of 5 their good father was very exact in what related to the wearing of their coats : yet it was no less penal and strict, in prescribing agreement, and friend- ship, and affection between them. And therefore, if straining a point were at all dispensable, it would 10 certainly be so, rather to the advance of unity, than increase of contradiction. Martin had still proceeded as gravely as he be- gan, and doubtless would have delivered an admirable lecture of morality, which might have 15 exceedingly contributed to my reader's repose both of body and mind^ (the true ultimate end of ethics) ; but Jack was already gone a flight-shot beyond his patience. And as in scholastic disputes, nothing serves to rouse the spleen of him that opposes, so 20 much as a kind of pedantic affected calmness in the respondent ; disputants being for the most part like unequal scales, where the gravity of one side ad- vances the lightness of the other, and causes it to fly up, and kick the beam : so it happened here that 25 the weight of Martin's argument exalted Jack's levity, and made him fly out, and spurn against his brother's moderation. In short, Martin's patience put Jack in a rage ; but that which most afflicted him, was, to observe his brother's coat so well re- 30 duced into the state of innocence ; while his owu was A TALE OF A TUB 37 either wholly rent to his shirt ; or those places which had escaped his cruel clutches, were still in Peter's livery. So that he looked like a drunken beau, half rifled by bullies ; or like a fresh tenant of 5 New^gate, when he has refused the payment of gar- nish; or like a discovered shoplifter, left to the mercy of Exchange women. Like any, or like all of these, a medley of rags, and lace, and rents, and fringes, unfortunate Jack did now appear : he lo would have been extremely glad to see his coat in the condition of Martin's, but infinitely gladder to find that of Martin in the same predicament with his. However, since neither of these was likely to come to pass, he thought fit to lend the whole busi- 15 ness another turn, and to dress up necessity into a virtue. Therefore, after as many of the fox's argu- ments as he could muster up, for bringing Martin to reason, as he called it; or, as he meant it, into his own ragged, bobtailed condition ; and observing 20 he said all to little purpose; what, alas ! was left for the forlorn Jack to do, but, after a million of scur- rilities against his brother, to run mad with spleen, and spite, and contradiction. To be short, here began a mortal breach between these two. Jack 25 went immediately to new lodgings, and in a few days it was for certain reported, that he had run out of his wits. In a short time after he appeared abroad, and confirmed the report by falling into the oddest whimseys that ever a sick brain conceived. 30 And now the little boys in the streets began to salute him with several names. Sometimes they 38 A TALE OF A TUB would call him Jack the bald ; sometimes, Jack with a lantern ; sometimes, Dutch Jack; sometimes, French Hugh; sometimes^ Tom the beggar; and sometimes. Knocking Jack of the north. And it was under one, or some, or all of these appellations, 5 (which I leave the learned reader to determine,) that he has given rise to the most illustrious and epidemic sect of ^olists; who, with honourable commemoration, do still acknowledge the re- nowned Jack for their author and founder. Of 10 whose originals, as well as principles, I am now advancing to gratify the world with a very particu- lar account. Melleo contingens cuncta lepore. Sect. XL — A Tale of a Tub. After so wide a compass as I have wandered, I 15 do now gladly overtake, and close in with my sub- ject, and shall henceforth hold on with it an even pace to the end of my journey, except some beau- tiful prospect appears within sight of my way; w^hereof though at present I have neither warn- 20 ing nor expectation, yet upon such an accident, come when it will, I shall beg my reader's favour and company, allowing me to^ conduct him through it along with myself. For in writing it is as in travelling; if a man is in haste to be at home, 25 (which I acknowledge to be none of my case, hav- ing never so little business as when I am there,) if his horse be tired with long riding and ill ways, or I A TALE OF A TUB 39 be naturally a jade, I advise him clearly to make the straightest and the commonest road, be it ever so dirty: but then surely we must ow^n such a man to be a scurvy companion at best; he spatters him- 5 self and his fellov^-travellers at every step : all their thoughts, and wishes, and conversation, turn en- tirely upon the subject of their journey's end; and at every splash, and plunge, and stumble, they heartily wish one another at the devil. 10 On the other side, when a traveller and his horse are in heart and plight; when his purse is full, and the day before him; he takes the road only where it is clean and 'convenient; entertains his company there as agreeably as he can; but, upon the first 15 occasion, carries them along with him to every de- lightful scene in view, whether of art, of nature, or of both; and if they chance to refuse, out of stu- pidity or weariness, let them jog on by themselves and be d n'd; he'll overtake them at the next 20 town; at which arriving, he rides furiously through; the men, women, and children run out to gaze; a hundred noisy curs run barking after him, of which, if he honours the boldest with a lash of his whip, it is rather out of sport than revenge; but should 25 some sourer mongrel dare too near an approach, he receives a salute on the chaps by an accidental stroke from the courser's heels, (nor is any ground lost by the blow,) which sends him yelping and limping home. 30 I now proceed to sum up the singular adven- tures of my renowned Jack; the state of whose dis- 40 A TALE OF A TUB positions and fortunes the careful reader does, no doubt, most exactly remember, as I last parted with them in the conclusion of a former section. Therefore, his next care must be, from two of the foregoing, to extract a scheme of notions, that may 5 best fit his understanding, for a true relish of what is to ensue. Jack had not only calculated the first revolution of his brain so prudently, as to give rise to that epidemic sect of ^olists, but succeeding also into 10 a new and strange variety of conceptions, the fruit- fulness of his imagination led him into certain no- tions, which, although in appearance very unac- countable, were not without their mysteries and their meanings, nor wanted followers to- counte- 15 nance and improve them. I shall therefore be ex- tremely careful and exact in recounting such material passages of this nature as I have been able to collect, either from undoubted tradition, or indefatigable reading; and shall describe them as 20 graphically as it is possible, and as far as notions of that height and latitude can be brought within the compass of a pen. Nor do I at all question, but they will furnish plenty of noble matter for such, whose converting imaginations dispose them to reduce all 25 things into types; who' can make shadows, no thanks to the sun; and then mould them into sub- stances, no thanks to philosophy; whose peculiar talent lies in fixing tropes and allegories to the let- ter, and refining what is literal into figure and mys- 30 tery. A TALE OF A TUB 4I Jack had provided a fair copy of his father's will, engrossed in form upon a large skin of parchment; and, resolving to act the part of a most dutiful son, he became the fondest creature of it imaginable. 5 For although, as I have often told the reader, it consisted wholly in certain plain, easy directions, about the management and wearing of their coats, with legacies and penalties in case of obedience or neglect, yet he began to entertain a fancy that the 10 matter was deeper and darker, and therefore must needs have a great deal more of mystery at the bot- tom. Gentlemen, said he, I will prove this very skin of parchment to be meat, drink, and cloth, to be the philosopher's stone, and the universal medi- 15 cine. In consequence of which raptures, he re- solved to make use of it in the most necessary, as well as the most paltry occasions of life. He had a way of working it into any shape he pleased; so that it served him for a nightcap when he went to 20 bed, and for an umbrella in rainy weather. He would lap a piece of it about a sore toe, or, when he had fits, burn two inches under his nose; or, if anything lay heavy on his stomach, scrape off, and swallow as much of the powder, as would lie on a 25 silver penny; they were all infallible remedies. With analogy to these refinements, his common talk and conversation ran wholly in the phrase of his will, and he circumscribed the utmost of his elo- quence within that compass, not daring to let slip a 30 syllable without authority from thence. He made it a part of his religion, never to say 42 A TALE OF A TUB grace to his meat; nor could all the world persuade him, as the common phrase is, to eat his victuals like a Christian. He bore a strange kind of appetite to snap- dragon, and to the livid snuffs of a burning candle, 5 which he would catch and swallow with an agility wonderful to conceive; and, by this procedure, maintained a perpetual flame in his belly, which, issuing in a glowing steam from both his eyes, as well as his nostrils and his mouth, made his head 10 appear in a dark night, like the skull of an ass, wherein a roguish boy hath conveyed a farthing candle, to the terror of his majesty's liege subjects. Therefore, he made use of no other expedient to light himself home, but was wont to say, that a 15 wise man was his own lantern. He would shut his eyes as he walked along the streets, and if he happened to bounce his head against a post, or fall into a kennel, (as he seldom missed either to do one or both,) he would tell the 20 gibing prentices, who looked on, that he submitted with entire resignation, as to a trip, or a blow of fate, with whom he found, by long experience, how vain it was either to wrestle or to cuff; and who- ever durst undertake to do either, would be sure to 25 come off with a swinging fall, or a bloody nose. It was ordained, said he, some few days before the creation, that my nose and this very post should have a rencounter; and, therefore, nature thought fit to send us both into the world in the same age, 30 and to make us countrymen and fellow-citizens. A TALE OF A TUB 43 Now, had my eyes been open, it is very likely the business might have been a great deal worse; for how many a confounded slip is daily got by a man with all his foresight about him? Besides, the eyes 5 of the understanding see best, when those of the senses are out of the way; and therefore, blind men are observed to tread their steps with much more caution, and conduct, and judgment, than those who rely with too much confidence upon the virtue 10 of the visual nerve, which every little aiccident shakes out of order, and a drop, or a film, can wholly disconcert; like a lantern among a pack of roaring bullies when they scour the streets, expos- ing its owner and itself to outward kicks and buf- 15 fets, which both might have escaped, if the vanity of appearing would have suffered them to walk in the dark. But further, if we examine the conduct of these boasted lights, it will prove yet a great deal worse than their fortune. 'Tis true, I have 20 broke my nose against this post, because Provi- dence either forgot, or did not think it convenient, to twitch me by the elbow, and give me notice to avoid it. But, let not this encourage either the present age, or posterity, to trust their noses into 25 the keeping of their eyes, which may prove the fairest way of losing them for good and all. For, O ye eyes, ye blind guides; miserable guardians are ye of our frail noses; ye, I say, who fasten upon the first precipice in view, and then tow our 30 wretched willing bodies after you, to the very brink of destruction: but, alas! that brink is rotten, our 44 • A TALE OF A TUB feet slip, and we tumble down prone into a gulf, without one hospitable shrub in the way to break the fall; a fall, to which not any nose of mortal make is equal, except that of the giant Laurcalco, who was lord of the silver bridge. Most properly 5 therefore, O eyes, and with great justice, may you be compared to those foolish lights, which conduct men through dirt and darkness, till they fall into a deep pit or a noisome bog. This I have produced as a scantling of Jack's 10 great eloquence, and the force of his reasoning upon such abstruse matters. He was, besides, a person of great design and improvement in affairs of devotion, having intro- duced a new deity, who has since met with a vast 15 number of worshippers; by some called Babel, by oithers Chaos; who had an ancient temple of Gothic structure upon Salisbury plain, famous for its shrine, and celebration by pilgrims. When he had some roguish trick to play, he 20 would down with his knees, up with his eyes, and fall to prayers, though in the midst of the kennel. In winter he went always loose and unbuttoned, and clad as thin as possible, to let in the ambient heat; and in summer lapped himself close and thick 25 to keep it out. In all revolutions of government, he would make his court for the office of hangman general : and in the exercise of that dignity, wherein he was very dexterous, would make use of no other vizard, than 30 a long prayer. A TALE OF A TUB 45 He had a tongue so musculous and subtile, that he could twist it up into his nose, and deHver a strange kind of speech from thence. He was also the first in these kingdoms, who began to improve 5 the Spanish accomplishment of braying; and hav- ing large ears, perpetually exposed and erected, he carried his art to such a perfection, that it was a point of great difficulty ito distinguish, either by the view or the sound, between the original and lothe copy. He was troubled with a disease, reverse to that called the stinging of the tarantula; and would run dog-mad at the noise of music, especially a pair of bagpipes. But he would cure himself again, by 15 taking two or three turns in Westminster Hall, or Billingsgate, or in a boarding-school, or the Royal Exchange, or a state cofifee-house. He was a person that feared no colours, but mor- tally hated all, and, upon that account, bore a cruel 20 aversion against painters; insomuch, that, in his paroxysms, as he -walked the streets, he would have his pockets loaden with stones to pelt at the signs. Having, from his manner of living, frequent oc- casions to wash himself, he would often leap over 25 head and ears into the water, though it were in the midst of the winter, but was always observed to come out again much dirtier, if possible, then he went in. He was the first that ever found out the secret of 30 contriving a soporiferous medicine to be conveyed 46 A TALE OF A TUB in at the ears; it was a compound of sulphur and balm of Gilead, with a little pilgrim's salve. He wore a large plaster of artificial caustics on his stomach, with the fervour of which, he could set himself a groaning, like the famous board upon 5 application of a red-hot iron. He would stand in the turning of a street, and, calling to those who- passed by, would cry to one. Worthy sir, do me the honour of a good slap in the chaps. To another, Honest friend, pray favour me 10 with a handsome kick: Madam, shall I entreat a small box on the ear from your ladyship's fair hands? Noble captain, lend a reasonable thwack, for the love of God, with that cane of yours over these poor shoulders. And when he had, by such 15, earnest solicitations, made a shift tO' procure a basting sufficient to swell up his fancy and his sides, he would return home extremely comforted, and full of terrible accounts of what he had undergone for the public good. Observe this stroke, (said he, 20 shewing his bare shoulders,) a plaguy janizary gave it me this very morning at seven o'clock, as, with much ado, I was driving ofif the great Turk. Neigh- bours mine, this broken head deserves a plaster: had poor Jack been tender of his noddle, you would 25 have seen the Pope and the French king, long be- fore this time of day, among your wives and your warehouses. Dear Christians, the great Mogul was come as far as Whitechapel, and you may thank these poor sides, that he hath not (God bless us!) 30 already swallowed up man^ woman, and child, A TALE OF A TUB 47 It was highly worth observing the singular effects of that aversion, or antipathy, which Jack and his brother Peter seemed, even to an affecta- tion, to bear towards each other. Peter had lately -done some rogueries, that forced him to abscond; and he seldom ventured to stir out before night, for fear of bailiffs. Their lodgings were at the two most distant parts of the town from each other: and whenever their occasions or humours called them lo abroad, they would make choice of the oddest un- likely times, and most uncouth rounds, they could invent, that they might be sure to avoid one an- other: yet, after all this, it was their perpetual for- tune to meet. The reason of which is easy enough 15 to apprehend; for, the phrensy and the spleen of both having the same foundation, we may look upon them as two pair of compasses, equally ex- tended, and the fixed foot of each remaining in the same centre; which, though moving contrary ways 20 at first, will be sure to encounter somewhere or other in the circumference. Besides, it was among the great misfortunes of Jack, to bear a huge per- sonal resemblance with his brother Peter. Their humour and dispositions were not only the same, 25 but there was a close analogy in their shape, their size, and their mien. Insomuch, as nothing was more frequent than for a bailiff to seize Jack by the shoulders, and cry, Mr. Peter, you are the king's prisoner. Or, at other times, for one of Peter's 30 nearest friends to accost Jack with open arms. Dear Peter, I am glad to see thee, pray send me one of 48 A TALE OF A TUB your best medicines for the worms. This, we may suppose, was a mortifying return of those pains and proceedings Jack had laboured in so long; and finding how directly opposite all his endeavours had answered to the sole end and intention, which 5 he had proposed to himself, how could it avoid hav- ing terrible effects upon a head and heart so fur- nished as his? However, the poor remainders of his coat bore all the punishment; the orient sun never entered upon his diurnal progress, without 10 missing a piece of it. He hired a tailor to stitch up the collar so close, that it was ready to choke him, and squeezed out his eyes at such a rate, as one could see nothing but the white. What little was left of the main substance of the coat, he rubbed 15 every day for two hours against a rough-cast wall, in order tO' grind away the remnants of lace and em- broidery; but at the same time went on with so much violence, that he proceeded a heathen phil- osopher. Yet, after all he could do of this kind, 20 the success continued still to disappoint his expec- tation. For, as it is the nature of rags to bear a kind of mock resemblance to finery, there being a sort of fluttering appearance in both, which is not to be distinguished at a distance, in the dark, or by 25 short-sighted eyes; so, in those junctures, it fared with Jack and his tatters, that they offered to the first view a ridiculous flaunting; which, assisting the resemblance in person and air, thwarted all his projects of separation, and left so near a similitude 30 A TALE OF A TUB 49 between them, as frequently deceived the very dis- ciples and followers of both. y^ * >!< j!' ^' ^^' t^ >i; 5k sK' ^< * ^' * ^ >k * * 5 Desunt non- >:< H^' ^ * * * 5k null a. * * * * >K 5k 5k 5{S 5{c :ic ^^ ^ j|< >k * 5k 5k ^ ^ ^ ii< 5k ^ 5k 5k 5k The old Sclavonian proverb said well, that it is lowith men as with asses; whoever would keep them fast, must find a very good hold at their ears. Yet I think we may affirm, that it hath been verified by repeated experience, that, Effugiet tamen hsec sceleratus vincula Proteus. 15 It is good, therefore, to read the maxims of our ancestors, with great allowances to times and per- sons : for, if we look into primitive records, we shall find, that no revolutions have been so great, or so frequent, as those of human ears. In former days, 20 there was a curious invention to catch and keep them; which, I think, we may justly reckon among the artes perditce; and how can it be otherwise, when, in these latter centuries, the very species is not only diminished to a very lamentable degree, 25 but the poor remainder is also degenerated so far as to mock our skilfullest tenure? For, if the only slitting of one ear in a stag hath been found suffi- cient to propagate the defect through a whole forest, why should we wonder at the greatest con- 30 sequences, from so many loppings and mutilations, 50 A TALE OF A TUB to which the ears of our fathers, and our own, have been of late so much exposed? 'Tis true, indeed, that while this island of ours was under the domin- ion of grace, many endeavours were made to im- prove the growith of ears once more among us. The 5 proportion of largeness was not only looked upon as an ornament of the outward man, but as a type of grace in the inward. Such was the progress of the saints for advanc- ing the size of that member; and it is thought the 10 success would have been every way answerable, if, in process of time, a cruel king had not arose, who raised a bloody persecution against all ears above a certain standard: upon which, some were glad to hide their flourishing sprouts in a black border, 15 others crept wholly under a periwig; some were slit, others cropped, and a great number sliced off to the stumps. But of this more hereafter in my general history of ears; which I design very speedily to bestow upon the public. 20 From this brief survey of the falling state of ears in the last age, and the small care had to advance their ancient growth in the present, it is manifest, how little reason we can have to rely upon a hold so short, so weak, and so slippery; and that who- 25 ever desires to catch mankind fast, must have recourse to some other methods. Now, he that will examine human nature with circumspection enough, may discover several handles, whereof the six senses afford one a-piece, beside a great num- 30 ber that are screwed to the passions, and some few A TALE OF A TUB 51 rivetted to the itiitellect. Among these last, curiosity is one, and, of all others, affords the firmest grasp : curiosity, that spur in the side, that bridle in the mouth, that ring in the nose, of a lazy, an impa- 5 tient, and a grunting reader. By this handle it is, that an author should seize upon his readers; which as soon as he hath once compassed, all resistance and struggling are in vain; and they become his prisoners as close as he pleases, till weariness or 10 dulness force him to let go his gripe. And therefore, I, the author of this miraculous treatise, having hitherto, beyond expectation, main- tained, by the aforesaid handle, a firm hold upon m.y gentle readers, it is with great reluctance, that 15 1 am at length compelled to remit my grasp; leav- ing them, in the perusal of what remains, to that natural oscitancy inherent in the tribe. I can only assure thee, courteous reader, for both our com- forts, that my concern is altogether equal to thine, 20 for my unhappiness in losing, or mislaying among my papers, the, remaining part of these memoirs; which consisted of accidents, turns, and adven- tures, both new, agreeable, and surprising; and therefore calculated, in all due points, to the deli- 25cate taste of this our noble age. But, alas! with my utmost endeavours, I have been able only to retain a few of the heads. Under which, there was a full account, how Peter got a protection out of the King's Bench; and of a reconcilement between 30 Jack and him, upon a design they had, in a certain rainy night, to trepan brother Martin into a spung- 52 A TALE OF A TUB ^ ing-house, and there strip him to the skin. How Martin, with much ado, shewed them both a fair pair of heels. How a new warrant came out against Peter; upon which, how Jack left him in the lurch, stole his protection, and made use of it himself. 5 How Jack's tatters came into fashion in court and city; how he got upon a great horse, and eat cus tard. But the particulars of all these, with several others, which have now slid out of my memory, are lost beyond all hopes of recovery. For which lo misfortune, leaving my readers to condole with each other, as far as they shall find it to agree with their several constitutions; but conjuring them by all the friendship that hath passed between us, from the title-page to this, not to proceed so far as to 15 injure their healths for an accident past remedy; I now go on to the ceremonial part of an accom- plished writer, and therefore, by a courtly modern, least of all others to be omitted. A FULL AND TRUE ACCOUNT OF THE BATTLE FOUGHT LAST FRIDAY BETVv^EEN THE Bncient auD tbe /Ifto&ern JSoofts IN ST. JAMES'S LIBRARY London, 1704 The Preface of the Author, Satire is a sort of glass, wherein beholders do generally discover everybody's face but their own; which is the chief reason for that kind reception it meets in the world, and that so very few are offend- 5 ed with it. But, if it should happen otherwise, the danger is not great; and I have learned, from long experience, never to apprehend mischief from those understandings I have been able to provoke: for anger and fury, though they add strength to the 10 sinews of the body, yet are found to relax those of the mind, and to render all its efforts feeble and impotent. There is a brain that will endure but one scum- ming; let the owner gather it with discretion, and 15 manage his little stock with husbandry; but, of all things, let him beware of bringing it under the lash 53 54 THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS of his betters, because that will make it all bubble up into impertinence, an4 he will find no new sup- ply. Wit, without knowledge, being a sort of cream, which gathers in a night to the top, and, by a skilful hand, may be soon whipped into froth; but, once scummed away, what appears underneath will be fit for nothing but to be thrown to the hogs. A FULL AND TRUE ACCOUNT, &c. Whoever examines, with due circumspection, into the Annual Records of Time, will find it re- marked, that war is the child of pride, and pride the lo daughter of riches : — the former of which assertions may be soon granted, but one cannot so easily sub- scribe to the latter; for pride is nearly related to beggary and want, either by father or mother, and sometimes by both : and to speak naturally, it very 15 seldom happens among men to fall out when all have enough; invasions usually travelling from north to south, that is to say, from poverty upon plenty. The most ancient and natural grounds of quarrels, are lust and avarice; which, though we 20 may allow to be brethren, or collateral branches of pride, are certainly the issues of want. For^ to speak in the phrase of writers upon the politics, we may observe in the republic of dogs, which, in its original, seems to be an institution of the many, that 25 the whole state is ever in the profoundest peace THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 55 after a full meal; and that civil broils arise among them when it happens for one great bone to be seized on by some leading dog, who either divides it among the few, and then it falls to an oligarchy, 5 or keeps it to himself, and then it runs up to a tyranny. The same reasoning also holds place among them in those dissensions we behold in re- gard to any of their females. For the right of possession lying in common, (it being impossible to 10 establish a property in so delicate a case,) jealousies and suspicions do so abound, that the whole com- monwealth of that street is reduced to a manifest state of war, of every citizen against every citizen, till some one, of more courage, conduct, or fortune 15 than the rest^ seizes and enjoys the prize; upon which naturally arises plenty of heart-burning, and envy, and snarling against the happy dog. Again, if we look upon any of these republics engaged in a foreign war, either of invasion or defence, we shall 2o find the same reasoning will serve as to the grounds and occasions of each ; and that poverty or want, in some degree or other, (whether real or in opinion, which makes no alteration in the case,) hath a great share, as well as pride, on the part of the aggressor. 25 Now, whoever will please to take this scheme, and either reduce or adapt it to an intellectual state, or commonwealth of learning, will soon discover the first ground of disagreement between the two great parties at this time in arms, and may form 30 just conclusions upon the merits of either cause. But the issue or events of this war are not so easy 56 THE BATTLE OE THE BOOKS to conjecture at; for the present quarrel is so in- flamed by the warm heads of either faction, and the pretensions somewhere or other so exorbitant^ as not to admit the least overtures of accommodation. This quarrel first began, as I have heard it affrmed 5 by an old dweller in the neighbourhood, about a small spot of ground, lying and being upon one of the two tops of the hill Parnassus; the highest and largest of which had, it seems, been time out of mind in quiet possession of certain tenants, called 10 the Ancients ; and the other was held by the Mod- erns. But these, disliking their present station, sent certain ambassadors to the ancients, complain- ing of a great nuisance ; how the height of that part of Parnassus quite spoiled the prospect of theirs, 15 especially towards the east ; and therefore, to avoid a war, offered them the choice of this alternative, either that the ancients would please to remove themselves and their effects down to the lower sum- mity, which the moderns would graciously sur- 20 render to them, and advance in their place ; or else the said ancients will give leave to the moderns to come with shovels and mattocks, and level the said hill as low as they shall think it convenient. To which the ancients made answer, how little they 25 expected such a message as this from a colony, whom they had admitted, out of their own free grace, to so near a neighbourhood. That, as to their own seat, they were aborigines of it, and there- fore, to talk with them of a removal or surrender, 30 was a language they did not understand. That, if THE nATTLE OF TJIM BOOJtS 57 the height of the hill on their side shortened the prospect of the moderns, it was a disadvantage they could not help ; but desired them to consider, whether that injury (if it be any) were not largely 5 recompensed by the shade and shelter it afforded them. That as to the levelling or digging down, it was either folly or ignorance to propose it, if they did, or did not, know, how that side of the hill was an entire rock, which would break their tools and to hearts, without any damage to itself. That they would therefore advise the moderns rather to raise their own side of the hill^ than dream of pulling down that of the ancients : to the former of which they would not only give licence, but also largely 15 contribute. All this was rejected by the moderns with much indignation, who still insisted upon one of the two expedients ; and so this difference broke out into a long and obstinate war, maintained on the one part by resolution, and by the courage of 20 certain leaders and allies ; but, on the other, by the greatness of their number, upon all defeats afford- ing continual recruits. In this quarrel whole rivu- lets of ink have been exhausted, and the virulence of both parties enormously augmented. Now, it 25 must here be understood, that ink is the great mis- sive weapon in all battles of the learned, which, conveyed through a sort of engine called a quill, infinite numbers of these are darted at the enemy, by the valiant on each side, with equal skill and 30 violence, as if it were an engagement of porcupines. This malignant liquor was compounded, by the en- S8 THE BATTLE OE THE BOOKS gineer who invented it^ of two ingredients, which are, gall and copperas ; by its bitterness and venom to suit, in some degree, as well as to foment, the genius of the combatants. And as the Grecians, after an engagement, when they could not agree about the victory, were wont to set up trophies on both sides, the beaten party being content to be at the same expense, to keep itself in countenance; (a laudable and ancient custom, happily revived of late, in the art of war ;) so the learned, after a sharp lo and bloody dispute, do, on both sides, hang out their trophies too, whichever comes by the worst. These trophies have largely inscribed on them the merits of the cause ; a full impartial account of such a battle, and how the victory fell clearly to the 15 party that set them up. They are known to the world under several names : as, disputes^ argu- ments, rejoinders, brief considerations, answers, re- plies, remarks, reflections, objections, confutations. For a very few days they are fixed up in all public 20 places, either by themselves or their representa- tives, for passengers to gaze at; whence the chiefest and largest are removed to certain magazines they call libraries, there to remain in a quarter purposely assigned them, and from thenceforth begin to be 25 called books of controversy. In these books Is wonderfully instilled and pre- served the spirit of each warrior, while he is alive; and after his death, his soul transmigrates there to inform them. This at least is the more commons© opinion; but I believe it is with libraries as with I THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 59 Other cemeteries ; where some philosophers affirm, that a certain spirit, which they caU bruttim hominis^ hovers over the monument, till the body is cor- rupted, and turns to dust, or to worms, but then 5 vanishes or dissolves ; so, we may say, a restless spirit haunts over, every book, till dust or worms have seized upon it ; which to some may happen in a few days, but to others later : and therefore books of controversy being, of all others, haunted by the lomost disorderly spirits, have always been confined in a separate lodge from the rest; and, for fear of mutual violence against each other, it was thought prudent by our ancestors to bind them to the peace with strong iron chains. Of which invention the 15 original occasion was this: When the works of Scotus first came out, they were carried to a certain library, and had lodgings appointed them; but this author was no sooner settled than he went to visit his master Aristotle ; and there both concerted to- 20 gether to seize Plato by main force, and turn him out from his ancient station among the divines, where he had peaceably dwelt near eight hundred years. The attempt succeeded^ and the two usurp- ers have reigned ever since in his stead : but, to 25 maintain quiet for the future, it was decreed, that all polemics of the larger size should be held fast with a chain. By this expedient, the public peace of libraries might certainly have been preserved, if a new 30 species of controversial books had not arose of late years^ instinct with a most malignant spirit, from 6o THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS the war above mentioned between the learned, about the higher summity of Parnassus. When these books were first admitted into the pubHc hbraries, I remember to have said, upon occasion, to several persons concerned, how I was 5 sure they would create broils wherever they came, unless a world of care were taken : and therefore I advised, that the champions of each side should be coupled together, or otherwise mixed, that, like the blending of contrary poisons, their malignity might 10 be employed among themselves. And it seems I was neither an ill prophet^ nor an ill counsellor ; for it was nothing else but the neglect of this caution which gave occasion to the terrible fight that hap- pened on Friday last, between the ancient and 15 modern books, in the king's library. Now, because the talk of this battle is so fresh in everybody's mouth, and the expectation of the town so great to be informed in the particulars, I, being possessed of all qualifications requisite in an historian, and 20 retained by neither party, have resolved to comply with the urgent importunity of my friends, by writ- ing down a full impartial account thereof. The guardian of the regal library, a person of great valour, but chiefly renowned for his human- 25 ity, had been a fierce champion for the moderns; and, in an engagement upon Parnassus, had vowed, with his own hands, to knock down two of the an- cient chiefs^ who guarded a small pass on the superior rock ; but, endeavouring to climb up, was 30 cruelly obstructed by his own unhappy weight, and THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 6 1 tendency towards his centre ; a quality to which those of the modern party are extreme subject; for, being hght-headed, they have, in speculation, a wonderful agility, and conceive nothing too high 5 for them to mount ; but, in reducing to practice, discover a mighty pressure about their backs and their heels. Having thus failed in his design, the disappointed champion bore a cruel rancour to the ancients ; which he resolved to gratify, by shewing 10 all marks of his favour to the books of their adver- saries, and lodging them in the fairest apartments; when, at the same time, whatever book had the boldness to own itself for an advocate of the an- cients, was buried alive in some obscure corner, and 15 threatened^ upon the least displeasure, to be turned out of doors. Besides, it so happened, that about this time there was a strange confusion of place among all the books in the library ; for which sev- eral reasons were assigned. Some imputed it to a 2o great heap of learned dust, which a perverse wind blew off from a* shelf of moderns, into the keeper's eyes. Others affirmed, he had a humour to pick the worms out of the schoolmen, and swallow them fresh and fasting; whereof some fell upon his 25 spleen, and some climbed up into his head, to the great perturbation of both. And lastly, others maintained, that, by walking much in the dark about the library, he had quite lost the situation of it out of his head ; and therefore, in replacing his 30 books, he was apt to mistake, and clap Descartes next to Aristotle; poor Plato had got between 62 THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS Hobbes and the Seven Wise Masters^ and Virgil was hemmed in with Dryden on one side, and Wither on the other. Meanwhile those books that were advocates for the moderns, chose out one from among them to 5 make a progress through the whole library, examine the number and strength of their party, and concert their affairs. This mes- senger performed all things very industri- ously, and brought back with him a Hst of lo their forces, in all fifty thousand, consisting chiefly of light-horse, heavy-armed foot, and mer- cenaries : whereof the foot were in general but sorrily armed, and worse clad : their horses large, but extremely out of case and heart ; however, some 15 few, by trading among the ancients, had furnished themselves tolerably enough. While things were in this ferment, discord grew extremely high ; hot words passed on both sides, and ill blood was plentifully bred. Here a solitary 20 ancient, squeezed up among a whole shelf of mod- erns, offered fairly to dispute the case, and to prove by manifest reasons, that the priority was due to them, from long possession; and in regard of their prudence, antiquity, and, above all, their great 25 merits toward the moderns. But these denied the premises, and seemed very much to wonder, how the ancients could pretend to insist upon their an- tiquity, when it was so plain, (if they went to that,) that the moderns were much the more ancient of 30 the Iwo. As for any obHgations they owed to the THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 63 ancients, they renounced them all. 'Tis true, said they, we are informed, some few of our party have been so mean to borrow their subsistence from you ; but the rest^ infinitely the greater number, (and 5 especially we French and English,) were so far from stooping to so base an example, that there never passed, till this very hour, six words between us. For our horses are of our own breeding, our arms of our own forging, and our clothes of our 10 own cutting out and sewing. Plato was by chance up on the next shelf, and observing those that spoke to be in the ragged plight mentioned a while ago ; their jades lean and foundered, their weapons of rotten wood, their armour rusty, and nothing but 15 rags underneath ; he laughed loud, and in his pleas- ant way swore, by — ^ — he believed them. Now, the moderns had not proceeded in their late negotiation with secrecy enough to escape the notice of the enemy. For those advocates, who had 20 begun the quarrel, by setting first on foot the dis- pute of precedency, talked so loud of coming to a battle, that Temple happened to overhear them, and gave immediate intelligence to the ancients ; who, thereupon, drew up their scattered troops to- 25 gether, resolving to act upon the defensive ; upon which, several of the moderns fled over to their party, and among the rest Temple himself. This Temple, having been educated and long conversed among the ancients, was, of all the moderns, their 30 greatest favourite, and became their greatest champion. 64 ' THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS Things were at this crisis, when a material acci- dent fell out. For, upon the highest corner of a large window, there dwelt a certain spider, swollen up to the first magnitude by the destruction of in- finite numbers of flies, whose spoils lay scattered 5 before the gates of his palace, like human bones before the cave of some giant. The avenues to his castle were guarded with turnpikes and palisadoes, all after the modern way of fortification. After you had passed several courts, you came to the centre, lo wherein you might behold the constable himself in his own lodgings, which had windows fronting to each avenue, and ports to sally out, upon all occasions of prey or defence. In this mansion he had for some time dwelt in peace and plenty, wath-15 out danger to his person, by swallows from above, or to his palace, by brooms from below : when it was the pleasure of fortune to conduct thither a wandering bee, to whose curiosity a broken pane in the glass had discovered itself, and in he went; 20 where, expatiating a while, he at last happened to alight upon one of the outward walls of the spider's citadel ; which, yielding to the unequal weight, sunk down to the very foundation. Thrice he en- deavoured to force his passage, and thrice the cen- 25 tre shook. The spider within, feeling the terrible convulsion, supposed at first that nature was ap- proaching to her final dissolution ; or else, that Beelzebub, with all his legions, was come to re- venge the death of many thousands of his subjects, 30 whom this enemy had slain and devoured. How- THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 65 ever, he at length vaHantly resolved to issue forth, and meet his fate. Meanwhile the bee had acquit- ted himself of his toils, and, posted securely at some distance, was employed in cleansing his wings, and 5 disengaging them from the ragged remnants of the cobweb. By this time the spider was advent- ured out, when, beholding the chasms, the ruins, and dilapidations of his fortress, he was very near at his wit's end ; he stormed and swore like a mad- 10 man, and swelled till he was ready to burst. At length, casting his eye upon the bee^ and wisely gathering causes from events, (for they knew each other by sight), A plague spHt you, said he; is it you, with a vengeance, that have made this litter 15 here? could not you look before you, and be d — d? do you think I have nothing else to do (in the devil's name) but to mend and repair after you? — Good words, friend, said the bee, (having now pruned himself, and being disposed to droll), I'll 20 give you my hand and word to come near your kennel no more;! was never in such a confounded pickle since I was born. — Sirrah, replied the spider, if it were not for breaking an old custom in our family, never to stir abroad against an enemy, I 25 should come and teach you better manners. — I pray have patience, said the bee^ or you will spend your substance, and, for aught I see, you may stand in need of it all towards the repair of your house. — Rogue, rogue, replied the spider, yet, methinks you 30 should have more respect to a person, whom all the world allows to be so much your betters. — By my 66 THE BATTLE OE THE BOOKS troth, said the bee, the comparison will amount to a very good jest; and you will do me a favour to let me know the reasons that all the world is pleased to use in so hopeful a dispute. At this the spider, having swelled himself into the size and posture of 5 a disputant, began his argument in the true spirit of controversy, with a resolution to be heartily scurrilous and angry, to urge on his own reasons, without the least regard to the answers or objec- tions of his opposite ; and fully predetermined in 10 his mind against all conviction. Not to disparage myself, said he^ by the com- parison with such a rascal, what art thou but a vagabond without house or home, without stock or 'nheritance, born to no possession of your own, but 15 a pair of wings and a drone-pipe? Your livelihood is an universal plunder upon nature ; a freebooter over fields and gardens ; and, for the sake of steal- ing, will rob a nettle as readily as a violet. Where- as I am a domestic animal, furnished with a native 20 stock within myself. This large castle (to shew my improvements in the mathematics) is all built with my own hands, and the materials extracted altogether out of mine own person. I am glad, answered the bee, to hear you grant at 25 least that I am come honestly by my wings and my voice; for then, it seems, I am obHged to Heaven alone for my flights and my music ; and Providence would never have bestowed on me two such gifts, without designing them for the noblest ends. I 30 visit indeed all the flowers and blossoms of the THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 6y field and the garden ; but whatever I collect from thence, enriches myself, without the least injury to their beauty, their smell, or their taste. Now, for you and your skill in architecture, and other mathe- 5 matics, I have little to say : in that building of yours there might, for aught I know, have been labour and method enough ; but, by woful experi- ence for us both, 'tis too plain, the materials are naught; and I hope you will henceforth take warn- 10 ing, and consider duration and matter, as well as method and art. You boast, indeed, of being obliged to no other creature, but of drawing and spinning out all from yourself ; that is to say, if we may judge of the liquor in the vessel, by what 15 issues out, you possess a good plentiful store of dirt and poison in your breast ; and, though I would by no means lessen or disparage your genuine stock of either, yet, I doubt you are somewhat obliged, for an increase of both, to a little foreign 20 assistance. Your inherent portion of dirt does not fail of acquisitions, by sweepings exhaled from be- low; and one insect furnishes you with a share of poison to destroy another. So that, in short, the question comes all to this ; whether is the nobler 25 being of the two, that which, by a lazy contempla- tion of four inches round, by an overweening pride, which, feeding and engendering on itself, turns all into venom, producing nothing at all, but flybane and a cobweb ; or that which, by an universal range, 30 with long search, much study, true judgment, and distinction of things, brings home honey and wax ? 68 THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS This dispute was managed with such eagerness, clamour, and warmth, that the two parties of books, in arms below, stood silent a while, waiting in suspense what would be the issue; which was not long undetermined : for the bee, grown impa- 5 tient at so much loss of time, fled straight away to a bed of roses, without looking for a reply; and left the spider, like an orator^ collected in himself, and just prepared to burst out. It happened upon this emergency, that ^Esop lo broke silence first. He had been of late most bar- barously treated by a strange efifect of the regent's humanity, who had tore ofif his title-page, sorely defaced one half of his leaves, and chained him fast among a shelf of moderns. Where, soon discov- 15 ering how high the quarrel was likely to proceed, he tried all his arts, and turned himself to a thou- sand forms. At length, in the borrowed shape of an ass^ the regent mistook him for a modern; by which means he had time and opportunity to es- 20 cape to the ancients, just when the spider and the bee were entering into their contest; to which he gave his attention with a world of pleasure; and when it was ended, swore in the loudest key, that in all his life he had never known two cases so 25 parallel and adapt to each other, as that in the win- dow, and this upon the shelves. The disputants, said he, have admirably managed the dispute between them, have taken in the full strength of all that is to be said on both sides, and exhausted 30 the substance of every argument pro and con. It is l^HE BATTLE OF l^HE BOOKS 69 but to adjust the reasonings of both to the present quarrel, then to compare and apply the labours and fruits of each, as the bee hath learnedly deduced them, and we shall find the conclusion fall plain 5 and close upon the moderns and us. For, pray, gentlemen, was ever anything so modern as the spider in his air, his turns, and his paradoxes? He argues in the behalf of you his brethren, and him- self, with many boastings of his native stock and 10 great genius ; that he spins and spits wholly from himself, and scorns to own any obligation or as- sistance from without. Then he displays to you his great skill in architecture, and improvement in the mathematics. To all this the bee, as an advocate, 15 retained by us the ancients, thinks fit to answer ; that, if one may judge of the great genius or inven- tions of the moderns by what they have produced, you will hardly have countenance to bear you out, in boasting of either. Erect your schemes with as 20 much method and skill as you please ; yet if the materials be nothing but dirt, spun out of your own entrails (the guts of modern brains) the edifice will conclude at last in a cobweb ; the duration of which, like that of other spiders' webs, may be imputed to 25 their being forgotten, or neglected, or hid in a cor- ner. For anything else of genuine that the mod- erns may pretend to, I cannot recollect ; unless it be a large vein of wrangling and satire, much of a nature and substance with the spider's poison ; 30 which, however they pretend to spit wholly out of themselves, is improved by the same arts, by feed- yo THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS ing upon the insects and vermin of the age. As for us the ancients, we are content, with the bee, to pretend to nothing of our own, beyond our wings and our voice : that is to say, our flights and our language. For the rest, whatever we have got, 5 hath been by infinite labour and search, and rang- ing through every corner of nature; the difference is, that, instead of dirt and poison, we have rather chose to fill our hives with honey and wax; thus furnishing mankind with the two noblest of things, lo which are sweetness and light. It is wonderful to conceive the tumult arisen among the books, upon the close of this long des- cant of ^sop : both parties took the hint, and heightened their animosities so on a sudden, that 15 they resolved it should come to a battle. Immedi- ately the two main bodies withdrew, under their several ensigns, to the farthest parts of the library, and there entered into cabals and consults upon the present emergency. The moderns were in very 20 warm debates upon the choice of their leaders ; and nothing less than the fear impending from their enemies, could have kept them from mutinies upon this occasion. The difference was greatest among the horse, where every private trooper pretended to 25 the chief command, from Tasso and Milton, to Dryden and Wither. The light-horse were com- manded by Cowley and Despreaux. There came the bowmen under their valiant leaders, Descartes, Gassendi, and Hobbes ; whose strength was such, 30 that they could shoot their arrows behind the at- THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 7 1 mosphere, never to fall down again, but turn, like that of Evander, into meteors ; or, like the cannon- ball, into stars. Paracelsus brought a squadron of stink-pot-flingers from the snowy mountains of 5 Rhaetia. There came a vast body of dragoons, of different nations, under the leading of Harvey, their great aga : part armed with scythes, the weapons of death ; part with lances and long knives, all steeped in poison; part shot bullets of a most 10 malignant nature, and used white powder, which infallibly killed without report. There came sev- eral bodies of heavy-armed foot, all mercenaries, under the ensigns of Guicciardini, Davila, Poly- dore Virgil, Buchanan, Mariana, Camden, and 15 others. The engineers were commanded by Regio- montanus and Wilkins. The rest were a confused multitude, led by Scotus, Aquinas, and Bellar- mine; of mighty bulk and stature, but without either arms, courage, or discipline. In the last 20 place, came infinite swarms of calones, a disorderly rout led by L'Estrange; rogues and ragamuffins, that follow the camp for nothing but the plunder, all without coats to cover them. The army of the ancients was much fewer in 25 number ; Homer led the horse, and Pindar the light-horse; Euclid was chief engineer; Plato and Aristotle commanded the bowmen; Herodotus and Livy the foot ; Hippocrates the dragoons ; the allies, led by Vossius and Temple, brought up the 30 rear. All things violently tending to a decisive battle, 72 THE BATTLE OE THE BOOKS Fame, who much frequented, and had a large apartment formerly assigned her in the regal library, fled up straight to Jupiter, to whom she delivered a faithful account of all that passed be- tween the two parties below; (for, among the gods, 5 she always tells truth). Jove, in great concern, convokes a council in the Milky Way. The senate assembled, he declares the occasion of convening them ; a bloody battle just impendent between two mighty armies of ancient and modern creat- 10 ures, called books, wherein the celestial interest was but too deeply concerned. Momus, the patron of the moderns, made an excellent speech in their favour, which was answered by Pallas, the protect- ress of the ancients. The assembly was divided in 15 their affections ; when Jupiter commanded the book of fate to be laid before him. Immediately were brought by Mercury three large volumes in folio, containing memoirs of all things past, present, and to come. The clasps were of silver double gilt ; 20 the covers of celestial turkey leather ; and the paper such as here on earth might almost pass for vel- lum. Jupiter, having silently read the decree, would communicate the import to none, but pres- ently shut up the book. 25 Without the doors of this assembly, there at- tended a vast number of light, nimble gods, menial servants to Jupiter : these are his ministering in- struments in all afifairs below. They travel in a caravan, more or less together, and are fastened 30 to each other, like a link of galley-slaves^ by a light THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 73 chain, which passes from them to Jupiter's great toe : arid yet, in receiving or delivering a message, they may never approach above the lowest step of his throne, where he and they whisper to each 5 other, through a long hollow trunk. These deities are called by mortal men accidents or events; but the gods call them second causes. Jupiter having delivered his message to a certain number of these divinities, they flew immediately down to the pin- 10 nacle of the regal library, and, consulting a few minutes, entered unseen, and disposed the parties according to their orders. Meanwhile, Momus, fearing the worst, and call- ing to mind an ancient prophecy, which bore no 15 very good face to his children the moderns, bent his flight to the region of a malignant deity, called Criticism. She dwelt on the top of a snowy moun- tain in Nova Zembla ; there Momus found her ex- tended in her den^ upon the spoils of numberless 20 volumes, half devoured. At her right hand sat Ignorance, her father and husband, blind with age ; at her left, Pride, her mother, dressing her up in the scraps of paper herself had torn. There was Opinion, her sister, light of foot, hoodwinked, and 25 headstrong, yet giddy, and perpetually turning. About her played her children. Noise and Impu- dence, Dulness and Vanity, Positiveness, Pedantry, and Ill-manners. The goddess herself had claws like a cat ; her head, and ears, and voice, resembled 30 those of an ass : her teeth fallen out before, her eyes turned inward, as if she looked only upon her- 74 THE BATTLE OE THE BOOKS self; her diet was the overflowing of her own gall; her spleen was so large, as to stand prominent ; nor wanted excrescencies in the form of teats, at which a crew of ugly monsters were greedily sucking; and, what is wonderful to conceive, the bulk of 5 spleen increased faster than the sucking could diminish it. Goddess, said Momus, can you sit idly here while our devout worshippers, the mod- erns, are this minute entering into a cruel battle, and perhaps now lying under the swords of their lo enemies? who then hereafter will ever sacrifice, or build altars to our divinities? Haste, therefore, to the British isle, and^ if possible, prevent their de- struction; while I make factions among the gods, and gain them over to our party. 15 Momus, having thus delivered himself, staid not for an answer, but left the goddess to her own re- sentments. Up she rose in a rage, and, as it is the form upon such occasions, began a soliloquy: 'Tis I, (said she,) who gave wisdom to infants and 20 idiots; by me, children grow wiser than their par- ents; by me, beaux become politicians, and school- boys judges of philosophy; by me, sophisters de- bate, and conclude upon the depths of knowledge; and coffee-house wits, instinct by me, 'can correct 25 an author's style, and display his minutest errors, without understanding a syllable of his matter, or his language. By me, striplings spend their judg- ment, as they do their estate, before it comes into their hands. 'Tis I who have deposed wit and 30 knowledge from their empire over poetry, and ad- THE BATTLE OE THE BOOKS 75 vanced myself in -their stead. And shall a few up- start ancients dare to oppose me? — But come, my aged parents, and you, my children dear, and thou, my beauteous sister; let us ascend my chariot, and 5 haste to assist our devout moderns, who are now sacrificing to us a hecatomb, as I perceive by that grateful smell, which from thence reaches my nos- trils. The goddess and her train having mounted the 10 chariot, which was drawn by tame geese, flew over infinite regions, shedding her influence in due places, till at length she arrived at her beloved island of Britain; but, in hovering over its metro- polis, what blessings did she not let fall upon her 15 seminaries of Gresham and Covent Garden! And now she reached the fatal plain of St. James's li- brary, at what time the two armies were upon the point to engage; where, entering with all her cara- van unseen, and landing upon a case of shelves, 20 now desert, but once inhabited by a colony of vir- tuosos, she staid awhile to observe the posture of both armies. But here the tender cares of a mother began to fill her thoughts, and move in her breast: for, at 25 the head of a troop of modern bowmen, she cast her eyes upon her son Wotton; to whom the fates had assigned a very short thread. Wotton, a young hero, whom an unknown father of mortal race be- got by stolen embraces with this goddess. He was 30 the darling of his mother above all her children, and she resolved to go and comfort him. But first, 76 THE BATTLE OP THE BOOKS according to the good old custom of deities, she cast about to change her shape, for fear the divinity of her countenance might dazzle his mortal sight, and overcharge the rest of his senses. She there- fore gathered up her person into an octavo com- 5 pass: her body grew white and arid, and split in pieces with dryness; the thick turned into paste- board, and the thin into paper; upon which her parents and children artfully strowed a black juice, or decoction of gall and soot, in form of letters: 10 her head, and voice, and spleen, kept their primitive form: and that which before was a cover of skin, did still continue so. In which guise, she marched on towards the moderns, undistinguishable in shape and dress from the divine Bentley, Wotton's dearest 15 friend. Brave Wotton, said the goddess, why do our troops stand idle here, tO' spend their present vigour, and opportunity of the day? Away, let us haste to the generals, and advise tO' give the onset immediately. Having spoke thus, she took the 20 ugliest of her monsters, full glutted from her spleen, and flung it invisibly into his mouth, which, flying straight up into his head, squeezed out his eyeballs, gave him a distorted look, and half overturned his brain. Then she privately ordered two of her be- 25 loved children, Dulness and Ill-Manners, closely to attend his person in all encounters. Having thus accoutred him, she vanished in a mist, and the hero perceived it was the goddess his mother. The destined hour of fate being now arrived, the 30 fight began; whereof, before I dare adventure to THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 77 make a particular description, I must, after the ex- ample of other authors, petition for a hundred tongues, and mouths, and hands, and pens, which would all be too little to perform so immense a 5 work. Say, goddess, that presidest over history, who it was that first advanced in the field of battle ! Paracelsus, at the head of his dragoons, observing Galen in the adverse wing, darted his javelin with a mighty force, which the brave ancient received 10 upon his shield, the point breaking in the second '^' * * "^ "^ * * Hie pauca '^ * * * ^ * * desunt, 15 They bore the wounded aga on their shields to his r*ri3'nO'1' jji jjS jjc jjc ^ >jc >j< Desunt ^: ^ ^ ^ :^ :^ ^ nonmilla, * ^ ^ ^ * ^ * 20 Then Aristotle, observing Bacon advance with a furious mien, drew his bow to the head, and let fly his arrow, which missed the valiant modern, and went hizzing over his head; but Descartes is hit; the steel point quickly found a defect in his 25 head-piece; it pierced the leather and the paste- board, and went in at his right eye. The torture of the pain whirled the valiant bowman round, till death, like a star of superior influence, drew him into his own vortex. 3oIngens hiatus * * * "^ i^ ^. hk in MS. ^ * h^ h^ ^ * 78 THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS * * when Homer appeared at the head of the cavalry, mounted on a furious horse, with dififi- culty managed by the rider himself, but which no other mortal durst approach; he rode among the enemy's ranks, and bore down all before him. Say, 5 goddess, whom he slew first, and whom he slew last! First, Gondibert advanced against him, clad in heavy armour, and mounted on a staid, sober gelding, not so famed for his speed as his docility in kneeling, whenever his rider would mount or 10 alight. He had made a vow to Pallas, that he would never leave the field till he had spoiled Homer of his armour: madman, who had never once seen the wearer, nor understood his strength! Him Homer overthrew, horse and man, to the 15 ground, there to be trampled and choked in the dirt. Then, with a long spear, he slew Denham, a stout modern, who from his father's side derived his lineage from Apollo, but his mother was of mor- tal race. He fell, and bit the earth. The celestial 20 part Apollo took, and made it a star; but the ter- restrial lay wallowing upon the ground. Then Homer slew Wesley, with a kick of his horse's heel ; he took Perrault by mighty force out of his saddle, then hurled him at Fontenelle, with the same blow 25 dashing out both their brains. On the left wing of the horse, Virgil appeared, in shining armour, completely fitted to his body: he was mounted on a dapple-gray steed, the slow- ness of whose pace was an efifect of the highest met- 30 tie and vigour. He cast his eye on the adverse THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 79 wing, with a desire to find an object worthy of his valour, when, behold, upon a sorrel gelding of a monstrous size, appeared a foe, issuing from among the thickest of the enemy's squadrons; but his 5 speed was less than his noise; for his horse, old and lean, spent the dregs of his strength in a high trot, which, though it made slow advances, yet caused a loud clashing of his armour, terrible to hear. The two cavaliers had now approached within the throw loof a lance, when the stranger desired a parley, and, lifting up the vizard of his helmet, a face hardly ap- peared from within, which, after a pause, was known for that of the renowned Dryden. The brave ancient suddenly started, as one possessed 15 with surprise and disappointment together; for the helmet was nine times too large for the head, which appeared situate far in the hinder part, even like the lady in a lobster, or like a mouse under a canopy of state, or like a shrivelled beau, from 20 within the penthouse of a modern periwig; and the voice was suited to the visage, sounding weak and remote. Dryden, in a long harangue, soothed up the good ancient; called him father, and, by a large deduction of genealogies, made it plainly ap- 25 pear that they were nearly related. Then he humbly proposed an exchange of armour, as a lasting mark of hospitality between them. Virgil consented, (for the goddess Diffidence came unseen, and cast a mist before his eyes,) though his was of gold, and 30 cost a hundred beeves, the other's but of rusty iron. However, this glittering armour became the mod- 8o THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS n ern yet worse than his own. Then they agreed to exchange horses; but, when it came to the trial, Dryden was afraid, and utterly unable to mount. * * * * 5k 5}I * ^ * ^ * 5k * Alter hiatus * * * 5k * m MS, ^ ^ 5k >k 5k * 5k Lucan appeared upon a fiery horse of admirable shape, but headstrong, bearing the rider where he lo list over the field; he made a mightly slaughter among the enemy's horse; which destruction to stop, Blackmore, a famous modern, (but one of the mercenaries,) strenuously opposed himself, and darted a javelin with a strong hand, which, falling 15 short of its mark, struck deep in the earth. Then Lucan threw a lance; but ^sculapius came unseen, and turned of¥ the point. Brave modern, said Lucan, I perceive some god protects you, for never did my arm so deceive me before; but what mortal 20 can contend with a god? Therefore, let us fight no longer, but present gifts to each other. Lucan then bestowed the modern a pair of spurs, and Blackmore gave Lucan a bridle. 5fc >?: 5jc Paiica de- ^ ^ ^m -^^ ^ ^ -^ C/t 1 1/1 f ^ 5i^ ^ ^ '** ''* ^ ^ Creech: but the goddess Dulness took a cloud, formed into the shape of Horace, armed and 30 mounted, and placed it in a flying posture before THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 8 1 him. Glad was the cavalier to begin a combat with a flying foe, and pursued the image, threatening loud; till at last it led him to the peaceful bower of his father, Ogilby, by whom he was disarmed, 5 and assigned to his repose. Then Pindar slew — , and — , and Oldham, and — , and Afra the Amazon, light of foot; never ad- vancing in a direct line, but wheeling with in- credible agility and force, he made a terrible 10 slaughter among the enemy's light horse. Him when Cowley observed, his generous heart burnt within him, and he advanced against the fierce an- cient, imitating his address, and pace, and career, as well as the vigour of his horse and his own skill 15 would allow. When the two cavaliers had ap- proached within the length of three javelins, first Cowley threw a lance, which missed Pindar, and, passing into the enemy's ranks, fell ineffectual to the ground. Then Pindar darted a javelin so large 20 and weighty, that scarce a dozen cavaliers, as cava- liers are in our, degenerate days, could raise it from the ground; yet he threw it with ease, and it went, by an unerring hand, singing through the air; nor could the modern have avoided present death, if he 25 had not luckily opposed the shield, that had been given him by Venus. And now both heroes drew their swords; but the modern was so aghast and disordered, that he knew not where he was; his shield dropped from his hands; thrice he fled, and 30 thrice he could not escape; at last he turned, and lifting up his hands in the posture of a suppliant, 82 THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS Godlike Pindar, said he, spare my life, and possess my horse, with these arms, besides the ransom which my friends will give, when they hear I am alive, and your prisoner. Dog! said Pindar, let your ransom stay with your friends; but your 5 carcass shall be left for the fowls of the air and the beasts of the field. With that he raised his sword, and, with a mighty stroke, cleft the wretched mod- ern in twain, the sword pursuing the blow; and one half lay panting on the ground, to be trod in pieces 10 by the horses' feet; the other half was borne by the frighted steed through the field. This Venus took," washed it seven times in ambrosia, then struck it thrice with a sprig of amarant; upon which the leather grew round and soft, and the 15 leaves turned into feathers, and being gilded before, continued gilded still; so it became a dove, and she harnessed it to her chariot. ^ ^ ^ ^ * * * * Hi ^ Hiatus valde dc- * * * * * * Hendus in MS, 20 Day being far spent, and the numerous forces of the moderns half inclining to a retreat, there issued forth from a squadron of their heavy-armed foot, a captain, whose name was Bentley, in per- 25 son the most deformed of all the moderns; tall, but without shape or comeliness; large, but without strength or proportion. His armour was patched up of a thousand incoherent pieces; and the sound of it, as he marched, was loud and dry, like that 30 made by the fall of a sheet of lead, which an Etesian THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 83 wind blows suddenly down from the roof of some steeple. His helmet was of old rusty iron, but the vizard was brass, which, tainted by his breath, cor- rupted into copperas, nor wanted gall from the 5 same fountain; so that, whenever provoked by anger or labour, an atramentous quality, of most malignant nature, was seen to distil from his lips. In his right hand he grasped a flail, and (that he might never be unprovided of an offensive wea- lopon) a vessel full of ordure in his left. Thus completely armed, he advanced with a slow and heavy pace where the modern chiefs were holding a consult upon the sum of things; who, as he came onwards, laughed to behold his crooked leg and 1 5 hump shoulder, which his boot and armour, vainly endeavouring to hide, were forced to comply with and expose. The generals made use of him for his talent of railing; which, kept within government, proved frequently of great service to their cause, 20 but, at other times, did more mischief than good; for, at the least touch of offence, and often without any at all, he would, like a wounded elephant, con- vert it against his leaders. Such, at this juncture, was the disposition of Bentley; grieved to see the 25 enemy prevail, and dissatisfied with everybody's conduct but his own. He humbly gave the mod- ern generals to understand, that he conceived, with great submission, they were all a pack of rogues, and fools, and d — d cowards, and confounded log- 3ogerheads, and illiterate whelps, and nonsensical scoundrels; that, if himself had been constituted 84 THE BATTLE OE THE BOOKS general, those presumptuous dogs, the ancients, would, long before this, have been beaten out of the field. You, said he, sit here idle; but when I, or any other valiant modern, kill an enemy, you are sure to seize the spoil. But I will not march 5 one foot against the foe till you all swear to me, that w^homsoever I take or kill, his arms I shall quietly possess. Bentley having spoke thus, Scali- ger, bestowing him a sour look. Miscreant prater! said he, eloquent only in thine eyes, tWu railest 10 without wit, or truth, or discretion. The malignity of thy temper perverteth nature; thy learning makes thee more barbarous, thy study of humanity more inhuman; thy converse amongst poets more grovelling, miry, and dull. All arts of civilizing 15 others render thee rude and untractable; courts have taught thee ill manners, and polite conversa- tion hath finished thee a pedant. Besides, a greater cow^ard burdeneth not the army. But never de- spond; I pass my word, whatever spoil thou 20 takest shall certainly be thy own; though, I hope, that vile carcass will first become a prey to kites and worms. Bentley durst not reply; but, half choked with spleen and rage, withdrew, in full resolution of per- 25 forming some great achievement. With him, for his aid and companion, he took his beloved Wot- ton; resolving, by policy or surprise, to attempt some neglected quarter of the ancient's army. They began their march over carcasses of their slaugh- 30 tered friends; then to the right of their own forces; THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS 85 then wheeled northward, till they came to Aldro- vandus's tomb, which they passed on the side of the declining sun. And now they arrived, with fear, toward the enemy's out-guards; * looking 5 about, if haply they might spy the quarters of the wounded, or some straggling sleepers, unarmed, and remote from the rest. As when twO' mongrel curs, whom native greediness and domestic want provoke and join in partnership, though fearful, 10 nightly to* invade the folds of some rich grazier, they, with tails depressed, and lolling tongues, creep soft and slow; meanwhile, the conscious moon, now in her zenith, on their guilty heads darts perpendicular rays; nor dare they bark, though 15 much provoked at her refulgent visage, whether seen in puddle by reflection, or in sphere direct; but one surveys the region round, while the t'other scouts the plain, if haply to discover, at distance from the flock, some carcass half devoured, the re- 20 fuse of gorged wolves, or ominous ravens. So marched this lovely, loving pair of friends, nor with less fear and circumspection, when, at distance, they might perceive two shining suits of armour hanging upon an oak, and the owners not far off, 25 in a profound sleep. The two friends drew lots, and the pursuing of this adventure fell to Betitley; on he went, and, in his van, Confusion and Amaze, while Horror and Affright brought up the rear. As he came near, behold two heroes of the ancients' 30 army, Phalaris and ^sop, lay fast asleep: Bent- ley would fain have dispatched them both, and, 86 THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS stealing close, aimed his flail at Phalaris's breast. But then the goddess Affright interposing, caught the modern in her icy arms, and dragged him from the danger she foresaw; both the dormant heroes happened to turn at the same instant, though 5 soundly sleeping, and busy in a dream. For Pha- laris was just that minute dreaming how a most vile poetaster had lampooned him, and how he had got him roaring in his bull. And ^sop dreamed, that, as he and the ancient chiefs were lying on the lo ground, a wild ass broke loose, ran about, tramp- ling and kicking in their faces. Bentley, leaving the two heroes asleep, seized on both their armours, and withdrew in quest of his darling Wotton. He, in the meantime, had wandered long in 15 search of some enterprize, till at length he arrived at a small rivulet, that issued from a fountain hard by, called, in the language of mortal men. Helicon. Here he stopped, and, parched with thirst, resolved to allay it in this limpid stream. Thrice with pro- 20 fane hands he essayed to raise the water to his lips, and thrice it slipped all through his fingers. Then he stooped prone on his breast, but, ere his mouth had kissed the liquid crystal, Apollo came, and, in the channel, held his shield betwixt the modern 25 and the fountain, so that he drew up nothing but mud. For, although no fountain on earth can compare with the clearness of Helicon, yet there lies at bottom a thick sediment of slime and mud; for so Apollo begged of Jupiter, as a punishment to 30 those who durst attempt to taste it with unhallowed THE BATTLE OE THE BOOKS 87 lips, and for a lesson to all not to draw too deep or far from the spring. At the fountain-head, Wotton discerned two heroes; the one he could not distinguish, but the 5 other was soon known for Temple, general of the allies to the ancients. His back was turned, and he was employed in drinking large draughts in his helmet from the fountain, where he had withdrawn himself to rest from the toils of the war. Wotton 10 observing him, with quaking knees, and trembling hands, spoke thus to himself: Oh that I could kill this destroyer of our army, what renown should I purchase among the chiefs! but to issue out against him, man for man, shield against shield, and lance 15 against lance, what modern of us dare? For he fights like a god, and Pallas, or Apollo, are ever at his elbow. But, Oh mother! if what Fame re- ports be true, that I am the son of so great a god- dess, grant me to hit Temple with this lance, that 20 the stroke may send him to hell, and that I may re- turn in safety and triumph, laden with his spoils. The first part of this prayer, the gods granted at the intercession of his mother and of Momus; but the rest, by a perverse wind sent from Fate was 25 scattered in the air. Then Wotton grasped his lance, and, brandishing it thrice over his head, darted it with all his might; the goddess, his mother, at the same time, adding strength to his arm. Away the lance went hizzing, and reached 30 even to the belt of the averted ancient, upon which lightly grazing, it fell to the ground. Temple 88 THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS neither felt the weapon touch him, nor heard it fall ; and Wotton might have escaped to his army, with the honour of having remitted his lance against so great a leader, unrevenged; but Apollo, enraged that a javelin, flung by the assistance of so foul a 5 goddess, should pollute his fountain, put on the shape of , and softly came to young Boyle, who then accompanied Temple: he pointed first to the lance, then to the distant modern that flung it, and commanded the young hero to take imme- lo diate revenge. Boyle, clad in a suit of armour, which had been given him by all the gods, imme- diately advanced against the trembling foe, who now fled before him. As a young lion in the Libyan plains, or Araby desert, sent by his aged sire to 15 hunt for prey, or health, or exercise, he scours along, wishing to meet some tiger from the moun- tains, or a furious boar; if chance, a wild ass, with brayings importune, afifronts his ear, the generous beast, though loathing to destain his claws with 20 blood so vile, yet, much provoked at the offensive noise which Echo, foolish nymph, like her ill- judging sex, repeats much louder, and with more delight than Philomela's song, he vindicates the honour of the forest, and hunts the noisy long- 25 eared animal. So Wotton fled, so Boyle pursued. But Wotton, heavy-armed, and slow of foot, began to slack his course, when his lover, Bentley, ap- peared, returning laden with the spoils of the two sleeping ancients. Boyle observed him well, and 30 soon discovering the helmet and shield of Phalaris, THE BATTLE OP THE BOOKS 89 his friend, both which he had lately with his own hands new polished and gilded; rage sparkled in his eyes, and, leaving his pursuit after Wotton, he furiously rushed on against this new approacher. 5 Fain would he be revenged on both; but both now fled different ways; and, as a woman in a little house that gets a painful livelihood by spinning; if chance her geese be scattered o'er the common, she courses round the plain from side to side, com- lopelling here and there the stragglers to the flock; they cackle loud, and flutter o'er the champaign. So Boyle pursued, so fled this pair of friends; find- ing at length their flight was vain, they bravely joined, and drew themselves in phalanx. First isBentley threw a spear with all his force, hoping to pierce the enemy's breast; but Pallas came unseen, and in the air took ofif the point, and clapped on one of lead, which, after a dead bang against the enemy's shield, fell blunted to the ground. Then 20 Boyle, observing well his time, took a lance of wondrous length and sharpness; and, as this pair of friends compacted, stood close side to side, he wheeled him tO' the right, and, with unusual force, darted the weapon. Bentley saw. his fate approach, 25 and flanking down his arms close to his ribs, hoping to save his body, in went the point, passing through arm and side, nor stopped or spent its force, till it had also pierced the valiant Wotton, who, going to sustain his dying friend, shared his 30 fate. As when a skilful cook has trussed a brace of woodcocks, he, with iron skewer, pierces the 90 THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS tender sides of both, their legs and wings close pinioned to their ribs; so was this pair of friends transfixed, till down they fell, joined in their lives, joined in their deaths; so closely joined, that Charon will mistake them both for one, and waft 5 them over Styx for half his fare. Farewell, beloved, loving pair! few equals have you left behind: and happy and immortal shall you be, if all my wit and eloquence can make you. And, now * * * Jk * h« 10 * * Destmt ccBtera. AN ARGUMENT TO PROVE THAT XTbe HboUsbing of Cbristianitp in 3EnGlan5 MAY, AS THINGS NOW STAND, BE ATTENDED WITH SOME INCONVENIENCES, AND PERHAPS NOT PRODUCE THOSE MANY GOOD EFFECTS PROPOSED THEREBY WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1708 I AM very sensible what a weakness and presump- tion it is, to reason against the general humour and disposition of the world. I remember it was with great justice, and a due regard to the freedom both 5 of the pubHc and the press, forbidden upon several penalites to write, or discourse, or lay wagers against the Union even before it was confirmed by Parliament, because that was looked upon as a de- sign, to oppose the current of the people, which 10 besides the folly of it, is a manifest breach of the fundamental law that makes this majority of opin- ion the voice of God. In like manner, and for the very same reasons, it may perhaps be neither safe nor prudent to argue against the abolishing of ^5 Christianity: at a juncture when all parties seem so unanimously determined upon the point, as we 91 g2 AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY cannot but allow from their actions, their dis- courses, and their writings. However, I know not how, whether from the affectation of singularity, or the perverseness of human nature, but so it unhap- pily falls out, that I cannot be entirely of this 5 opinion. Nay, though I were sure an order were issued for my immediate prosecution by the Attor- ney-General, I should still confess that in the present posture of our affairs at home or abroad, I do not yet see the absolute necessity of extirpating lo the Christian religion from among us. This may perhaps appear too great a paradox even for our wise and paradoxical age to endure; therefore I shall handle it with all tenderness, and with the utmost deference to that great and pro- ^5 found majority which is of another sentiment. And yet the curious may please to observe, how much the genius of a nation is liable to alter in half an age. I have heard it affirmed for certain by some very old people, that the contrary opinion 20 was even in their memories as much in vogue as the other is now. And, that a project for the abol- ishing of Christianity would then have appeared as singular, and been thought as absurd, as it would be at this time to write or discourse in its defence. 25 Therefore I freely own, that all appearances are against me. The system of the gospel, after the fate of other systems, is generally antiquated and exploded ; and the mass or body of the common people, among whom it seems to have had its latest 30 credit, are now grown as much ashamed of it as AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY 93 their betters; opinions, like fashions, always de- scending from those of quality to the middle sort, and thence to the vulgar, where at length they are dropped and vanish. 5 But here I would not be mistaken, and must therefore be so bold as to borrow a distinction from the writers on the other side, when they make a difference between nominal and real Trinitarians. I hope no reader imagines me so weak to stand up lo in the defence of real Christianity, such as used, in primitive times, (if we may believe the authors of those ages) to have an influence upon men's belief and actions : to offer at the restoring of that, would indeed be a wild project; it would be to dig up 15 foundations ; to destroy, at one blow, all the wit, and half the learning, of the kingdom ; to break the entire frame and constitution of things ; to ruin trade, extinguish arts and sciences, with the profes- sors of them ; in short, to turn our courts, ex- 20 changes, and shops, into deserts ; and would be full as absurd as the proposal of Horace, where he ad- vises the Romans, all in a body, to leave their city, and seek a new seat in some remote part of the world, by way of cure for the corruption of their 25 manners. Therefore I think this caution was in itself alto- gether unnecessary, (which I have inserted only to prevent all possibility of cavilling) since every can- did reader will easily understand my discourse to 30 be intended only in defence of nominal Christian- ity; the other having been for some time wholly 94 AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY laid aside by general consent, as utterly inconsistent with our present schemes of wealth and power. But why we should therefore cast off the name and title of Christians, although the general opinion and resolution be so violent for it, I confess I can- 5 not (with submission) apprehend, nor is the conse- quence necessary. However, since the undertakers propose such wonderful advantages to the nation by this project, and advance many plausible objec- tions against the system of Christianity, I shall 10 briefly consider the strength of both, fairly allow them their greatest weight, and offer such answers as I think most reasonable. After which I will beg leave to shew, what inconveniences may possibly happen by such an innovation, in the present pos-15 ture of our affairs. First, one great advantage proposed by the abol- ishing of Christianity, is, that it would very much enlarge and establish liberty of conscience, that great bulwark of our nation, and of the protestant 20 religion ; which is still too much limited by priest- craft, notwithstanding all the good intentions of the legislature, as we have lately found by a severe in- stance. For it is confidently reported, that two young gentlemen of real hopes, bright wit, and pro- 25 found judgment, who, upon a thorough examina- tion of causes and effects, and by the mere force of ' natural abilities, without the least tincture of learn- ing, having made a discovery that there was no God, and generously communicating their thoughts 30 for the good of the public, were some time ago, by AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY 9$ an unparalleled severity, and upon I know not what obsolete law, broke for blasphemy. And as it has been wisely observed, if persecution once begins, no man alive knows how far it may reach, or where 5 it will end. In answer to all which, with deference to wiser judgments, I think this rather shews the necessity of a nominal religion among us. Great wits love to be free with the highest objects ; and if they can- 10 not be allowed a God to revile or renounce^ they will speak evil of dignities, abuse the government, and reflect upon the ministry ; which I am sure few will deny to be of much more pernicious conse- quence, according to the saying of Tiberius, deorum 15 offensa diis curce. As to the particular fact related, I think it is not fair to argue from one instance, perhaps another cannot be produced : yet (to the comfort of all those who may be apprehensive of persecution) blasphemy, we know, is freely spoken 2o a million of times in every coffeehouse and tavern, or wherever else good company meet. It must be allowed, indeed, that to break an English free-born officer, only for blasphemy, was, to speak the gent- lest of such an action, a very high strain of absolute 25 power. Little can be said in excuse for the gen- eral; perhaps he was afraid it might give offence to the allies^ among whom, for aught we know, it may be the custom of the country to believe a God. But if he argued, as some have done, upon a mis- 30 taken principle, that an officer who is guilty of speaking blasphemy, may some time or other pro- 96 AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY ceed so far as to raise a mutiny, the consequence is by no means to be admitted ; for surely the com- mander of an Enghsh army is likely to be but ill obeyed, whose soldiers fear and reverence him as little as they do a Deity. 5 It is farther objected against the gospel system, that it obliges men to the belief of things too diffi- cult for free-thinkers, and such who have shaken of? the prejudices that usually cling to a confined edu- cation. To which I answer, that men should be 10 cautious how they raise objections, which reflect upon the wisdom of the nation. Is not every body freely allowed to believe whatever he pleases, and to publish his belief to the world whenever he thinks fit, especially if it serves to strengthen the party 15 which is in the right? Would any indififerent for- eigner, who should read the trumpery lately writ- ten by Asgill, Tindal^ Toland, Coward, and forty more, imagine the gospel to be our rule of faith, and confirmed by parliaments? Does any man 20 either believe, or say he believes, or desire to have it thought that he says he believes, one syllable of the matter? And is any man worse received upon that score, or does he find his want of nominal faith a disadvantage to him, in the pursuit of any civil or 25 military employment? What if there be an old dormant statute or two against him, are they not now obsolete to a degree, that Empson and Dudley themselves, if they were now alive, would find it impossible to put them in execution ? 30 It is likewise urged, that there are, by computa- AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY 97 tion, in this kingdom, above ten thousand parsons, whose revenues added to those of my lords the bishops, would suffice to maintain at least two hun- dred young gentlemen of wit and pleasure, and 5 freethinking, enemies to priestcraft, narrow princi- ples, pedantry, and prejudices; who might be an ornament to the court and town: and then again, so great a number of able (bodied) divines, might be a recruit to our fleet and armies. This indeed lo appears to be a consideration of some weight: but then, on the other side, several things deserve to be considered likewise: as first, whether it may not be thought necessary, that in certain tracts of coun- try, like what we call parishes, there shall be one 15 man at least of abilities to read and write. Then it seems a wrong computation, that the revenues of the church throughout this island, would be large enough to maintain two hundred young gentlemen, or even half that number, after the present refined 20 way of living; that is, to allow each of them such a rent, as, in the modern form of speech, would make them easy. But still there is in this project a greater mischief behind; and we ought to beware of the woman's folly, who killed the hen, that every 25 morning laid her a golden ^^^. For, pray what would become of the race of men in the next age, if we had nothing to trust to beside the scrofulous, consumptive productions, furnished by our men of wit and pleasure, when, having squandered away 30 their vigour, health, and estates, they are forced, by some disagreeable marriage, to piece up their 98 AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY broken fortunes, and entail rottenness and polite- ness on their posterity? Now, here are ten thou- sand persons reduced, by the wise regulations of Henry the Eighth, to the necessity of a low diet, and moderate exercise, who are the only great re- 5 storers of our breed, without which the nation would, in an age or two, become one great hospital. Another advantage proposed by the abolishing of Christianity, is, the clear gain of one day in seven, which is now entirely lost, and consequently 10 the kingdom one seventh less considerable in trade, business, and pleasure; beside tlie loss to the pubHc of so many stately structures, now in the hands of the clergy, which might be converted into play- houses, market-houses, exchanges, common dormi- 15 tories, and other public edifices. I hope I shall be forgiven a hard word, if I call this a perfect cavil. I readily own there has been an old custom, time out of mind, for people to as- semble in the churches every Sunday, and that 20 shops are still frequently shut, in order, as it is con- ceived, to preserve the memory of that ancient practice; but how this can prove a hindrance to business or pleasure, is hard to imagine. What if the men of pleasure are forced, one day in the week, 25 to game at home instead of the chocolate-houses? are not the taverns and coffee-houses open? can there be a more convenient season for taking a dose of physic? is not that the chief day for traders to sum up the accounts of the week, and for lawyers 3o to prepare their briefs? But I would fain know, AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY 99 how it can be pretended, that the churches are mis- appHed? where are more appointments and ren- dezvouses of gallantry? where more care to appear in the foremost box, with greater advantage of 5 dress? where more meetings for business? where more bargains driven of all sorts? and where so many conveniences or enticements to sleep? There is one advantage, greater than any of the foregoing, proposed by the abolishing of Christian- Toity; that it will utterly extinguish parties among us, by removing those factious distinctions of high and low church, of whig and tory, presbyterian and church of England, which are now so many griev- ous clogs upon public proceedings, and are apt to 15 dispose men to prefer the gratifying of themselves, or depressing of their adversaries, before the most important interest of the state. I confess, if it were certain, that so great an ad- vantage would redound to the nation by this 20 expedient, I would submit and be silent; but will any man say, that if the words drinking, cheating, lying, stealing, were, by act of parliament, ejected out of the English tongue and dictionaries, we should all awake next morning chaste and temper- 25 ate, honest and just, and lovers of truth? Is this a fair consequence? Or, if the physicians would forbid us to pronounce the words gout, rheumatism, and stone, would that expedient serve, like so many talismans, to destroy the diseases themselves? Are 30 party and faction rooted in men's hearts no deeper than phrases borrowed from religion, or founded lOO AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY Upon no firmer principles? And is our language so poor, that we cannot find other terms to express them? Are envy^ pride, avarice, and ambition such ill nomenclators, that they cannot furnish appella- tions for their owners? Will not hey dukes and 5 mamahikcs, mandarins, and patshazvs, or any other words formed at pleasure, serve to distinguish those who are in the ministry, from others, who would be in it if they could? What, for instance, is easier than to vary the form of speech, and in- lo stead of the word church, make it a question in politics, whether the Monument be in danger? Because religion was nearest at hand to furnish a few convenient phrases, is our invention so barren, we can find no other? Suppose, for argument sake, ^5 that the tories favoured Margarita, the whigs Mrs. Tofts, and the trimmers Valentini; would not Mar- garitians, Toftians, and Valentinians be very tol- erable marks of distinction? The Prasini and Veniti, two most virulent factions in Italy, began 20 (if I remember right) by a distinction of colours in ribbons; and we might contend with as good a grace about the dignity of the blue and the green, which would serve as properly to divide the court, the parliament, and the kingdom, between them, as 25 any terms of art whatsoever, borrowed from reli- gion. And therefore, I think, there is little force in this objection against Christianity, or prospect of so great an advantage, as is proposed in the abol- ishing of it. 20 It is again objected, as a very absurd, ridiculous AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY lOl custom, that a set of men should be suffered, much less employed and hired, to bawl one day in seven against the lawfulness of those methods most in use, toward the pursuit of greatness, riches, and 5 pleasure, which are the constant practice of all men alive on the other six. But this objection is, I think, a little unworthy of so refined an age as ours. Let us argue this matter calmly: I appeal to the breast of any polite freethinker, whether, in the pur- 10 suit of gratif3ang a predominant passion, he has not always felt a wonderful incitement, by reflecting it was a thing forbidden: and, therefore, we see, in order to cultivate this taste, the wisdom of the nation has taken special care, that the ladies should 15 be furnished with prohibited silks, and the men with prohibited wine. And, indeed, it were to be wished, that some other prohibitions were pro- moted, in order to improve the pleasures of the town; which, for want of such expedients, begin 20 already, as I am told, to flag and grow languid, giving way daily to cruel inroads from the spleen. It is likewise proposed as a great advantage to the public, that if we once discard the system of the gospel, all religion will of course be banished for 25 ever; and consequently, along with it, those griev- ous prejudices of education, which, under the names of virtiiCy conscience, honour, justice, and the like, are so apt to disturb the peace of human minds, and the notions whereof are so hard to be eradicated, 30 by right reason, or freethinking, sometimes during the whole course of our lives. 102 AG A INS 7' ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY Here first I observe, how difficult it is to get rid \ of a phrase, which the world is once grown fond of, though the occasion that first produced it, be en- tirely taken aw^ay. For several years past, if a man had but an ill-favoured nose, the deep-thinkers of 5 the age would, some way or other, contrive to im- pute the cause to the prejudice of his education. From this fountain were said to be derived all our foolish notions of justice, piety, love of our country; all our opinions of God, or a future state. Heaven, lo Hell, and the like: and there might formerly per- haps have been some pretence for this charge. But so efi^ectual care has been taken to remove those prejudices, by an entire change in the meth- ods of education, that (wath honour I mention it to 15 our polite innovators) the young gentlemen, who are now on the scene, seem to have not the least tincture left of those infusions, or string of those weeds: and, by consequence, the reason for abol- ishing nominal Christianity upon that pretext, is 20 wholly ceased. For the rest, it may perhaps admit a controversy, whether the banishing of all notions of religion whatsoever, would be convenient for the vulgar. Not that I am in the least of opinion with those, 25 who hold religion to have been the invention of politicians, to keep the lower part of the world in awe, by the fear of invisible powers; unless man- kind were then very different to what it is now: for I look upon the mass or body of our people here 30 in England, to be as freethinkers, that is to say, as AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY I03 staunch unbelievers, as any of the highest rank. But I conceive some scattered notions about a superior power, to be of singular use for the com- mon people, as furnishing excellent materials to 5 keep children quiet when they grow peevish, and providing topics of amusement, in a tedious winter- night. Lastly, it is proposed, as a singular advantage, that the abolishing of Christianity will very much 10 contribute to the uniting of protestants, by enlarg- ing the terms of communion, so as to take in all sorts of dissenters, who are now shut out of the pale, upon account of a few ceremonies, which all sides confess to be things indifferent; that this alone 15 will effectually answer the great ends of a scheme for comprehension, by opening a large noble gate, at which all bodies may enter; whereas the chaffer- ing with dissenters, and dodging about this or the other ceremony, is but like opening a few wickets, 20 and leaving them at jar, by which no more than one can get in at a time, and that, not without stoop- ing, and sideling, and squeezing his body. To all this I answer, that there is one darling in- cHnation of mankind, which usually affects to be a 25 retainer to religion, though she be neither its par- ent, its godmother, or its friend; I mean the spirit of opposition, that lived long before Christianity, and can easily subsist without it. Let us, for in- stance, examine wherein the opposition of sectaries 30 among us consists ; we shall find Christianity to have no share in it at all. Does the gospel any- 104 AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY where prescribe a starched, squeezed countenance, a stiff, formal gait, a singularity of manners and habit, or any affected modes of speech, different from the reasonable part of mankind? Yet, if Christianity did not lend its name to stand in the 5 gap, and to employ or divert these humours, they must of necessity be spent in contraventions to the laws of the land, and disturbance of the public peace. There is a portion of enthusiasm assigned to every nation, which, if it has not proper objects to work 10 on, will burst out, and set all in a flame. If the quiet of a state can be bought, by only flinging men a few ceremonies to devour, it is a purchase no wise man would refuse. Let the mastiffs amuse themselves about a sheep's skin stuffed with hay, i5 provided it will keep them from worrying the flock. The constitution of convents abroad, seems, in one point, a strain of great wisdom; there being few irregularities in human passions, that may not have recourse to vent themselves in some of those or- 20 ders, which are so many retreats for the specula- tive, the melancholy, the proud, the silent, the politic, and the morose, to spend themselves, and evaporate the noxious particles; for each of whom, we, in this island, are forced to provide a several 25 sect of religion, to keep them quiet: and whenever Christianity shall be abolished, the legislature must find some other expedient to employ and entertain them. For what imports it how large a gate you open, if there will be always left a number, who 30 place a pride and a merit in refusing to enter? AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY IO5 Having thus considered the most important ob- jections against Christianity, and the chief advan- tages proposed by the aboHshing thereof, I shall now, with equal deference and submission to 5 wiser judgments, as before^ proceed to mention a few inconveniences that may happen, if the gospel should be repealed, which perhaps the projectors may not have sufficiently considered. And first, I am very sensible how much the gen- 10 tlemen of wit and pleasure are apt to murmur, and be choqued at the sight of so many daggled-tail parsons, who happen to fall in their way, and offend their eyes ; but, at the same time, these wise reform- ers do not consider, what an advantage and felicity 15 it is, for great wits to be always provided with ob- jects of scorn and contempt, in order to exercise and improve their talents, and divert their spleen from falling on each other, or on themselves; especially when all this may be done, without the 20 least imaginable danger to their persons. And to urge- another argument of a parallel nature : if Christianity were once abolished, how could the freethinkers, the strong reasoners, and the men of profound learning, be able to find an- 25 other subject, so calculated in all points, whereon to display their abiHties? what wonderful produc- tions of wit should we be deprived of, from those, whose genius, by continual practice, has been wholly turned upon raillery and invectives against 30 religion, and would therefore never be able to shine or distinguish themselves, upon any other subject ! Io6 AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY we are daily complaining of the great decline of wit among us, and would we take away the great- est, perhaps the only, topic we have left? who would ever have suspected Asgill for a wit, or Toland for a philosopher, if the inexhaustible stock 5 of Christianity had not been at hand, to provide them with materials? what other subject, through all art or nature^ could have produced Tindal for a profound author, or furnished him with readers ? it is the wise choice of the subject, that alone adorns 10 and distinguishes the writer. For, had a hundred such pens as these been employed on the side of religion, they would have immediately sunk into silence and oblivion. Nor do I think it wholly groundless, or my fears 1 5 altogether imaginary, that the abolishing Chris- tianity may perhaps bring the church into danger, or at least put the senate to the trouble of another securing vote. I desire I may not be misappre- hended; I am far from presuming to affirm, or 20 think, that the church is in danger at present, or as things now stand; but we know not how soon it may be so, wh^n the Christian religion is repealed. As plausible as this project seems, there may be a dangerous design lurking under it. Nothing can 25 be more notorious, than that the Atheists, Deists, Socinians, Anti-trinitarians, and other subdivisions of freethinkers, are persons of little zeal for the present ecclesiastical establishment : their declared opinion is for repealing the sacramental test; they 30 are very indifferent with regard to ceremonies ; nor AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY \Oj do they hold the jus divinnm of episcopacy; there- fore this may be intended as one poHtic step toward altering the constitution of the church established, and setting up presbytery in the stead, which I 5 leave to be farther considered by those at the helm. In the last place, I think nothing can be more . plain, than that, by this expedient, we shall run into the evil we chiefly pretend to avoid : and that the abolishment of the Christian religion will be TO the readiest course we can take to introduce popery. And I am the more inclined to this opinion, because we know it has been the constant practice of the Jesuits, to send over emissaries, with instructions to personate themselves members of the several pre- 15 vailing sects among us. So it is recorded, that they have at sundry times appeared in the disguise of Presbyterians, Anabaptists, Independents, and Quakers, according as any of these were most in credit ; so, since the fashion has been taken up of 20 exploding religion, the popish missionaries have not been wanting to mix with the freethinkers ; among whom Toland, the great oracle of the Antichris- tians, is an Irish priest, the son of an Irish priest; and the most learned and ingenioils author of a 25 book, called The Rights of the Christian Church, was in a proper juncture reconciled to the Romish faith, whose true son, as appears by a hundred pas- sages in his treatise, he still continues. Perhaps I could add some others to the number ; but the fact 30 is beyond dispute, and the reasoning they proceed by is right : for, supposing Christianity to be ex- I08 AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY m tinguished, the people will never be at ease till they find out some other method of worship ; which will as infallibly produce superstition, as superstition will end in popery. And therefore, if, notwithstanding all I have said, 5 it still be thought necessary to have a bill brought in for repealing Christianity, I would humbly offer an amendment, that instead of the word Christian- ity, may be put religion in general ; which, I con- ceive, will much better answer all the good ends ^o proposed by the projectors of it. For, as long as we leave in being a God and his providence, with all the necessary consequences which curious and inquisitive men will be apt to draw from such prem- ises, we do not strike at the root of the evil, 15 though we should ever so effectually annihilate the present scheme of the gospel : for, of what use is freedom of thought, if it will not produce freedom of action? which is the sole end, how remote so- ever in appearance^ of all objections against Chris- 20 tianity; and, therefore, the freethinkers consider it as a sort of edifice, wherein all the parts have such a mutual dependence on each other, that if you happen to pull out one single nail, the whole fabric must fall to the ground. This was happily ex- 25 pressed by him, who had heard of a text brought for proof of the Trinity, which in an ancient manu- script was differently read; he thereupon immedi- ately took the hint, and by a sudden deduction of a long sorites, most logically concluded ; '' Why, if it 30 be as you say, I may safely sin and drink on, and AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY IO9 defy the parson/' From which, and many the like instances easy to be produced, I think nothing can be more manifest, than that the quarrel is not against any particular points of hard digestion in 5 the Christian system, but against religion in gen- eral ; which, by laying restraints on human nature, is supposed the great enemy to the freedom of thought and action. Upon the whole, if it shall still be thought for the 10 benefit of church and state, that Christianity be abolished, I conceive, however, it may be more convenient to defer the execution to a time of peace; and not venture, in this conjuncture, to dis- oblige our allies, who^ as it falls out, are all Chris- 15 tians, and many of them, by the prejudices of their education, so bigoted, as to place a sort of pride in the appellation. If upon being rejected by them, we are to trust an alliance with the Turk, we shall find ourselves much deceived : for, as he is too re- 20 mote, and generally engaged in war with the Per- sian emperor, so his people would be more scandal- ized at our infidelity, than our Christian neighbours. For the Turks are not only strict observers of religious worship, but, what is worse, believe a 25 God ; which is more than is required of us, even while we preserve the name of Christians. To conclude : whatever some may think of the great advantages to trade by this favourite scheme, I do very much apprehend, that in six months' time 30 after the act is passed for the extirpation of the gospel, the Bank and East India stock may fall at no AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY least one per cent. And since that is fifty times more than ever the wisdom of our age thought fit to venture, for the preservation of Christianity, there is no reason we should be at so great a loss, merely for the sake of destroying it. 5 Zbc ©rapier's Xetters LETTER IV TO THE WHOLE PEOPLE OF IRELAND October 23, 1724. My Dear Countrymen, — Having already Writ- ten three letters upon so disagreeable a subject as Mr. Wood and his halfpence, I conceived my task was at an end ; but I find that cordials must be f re- 5 quently applied to weak constitutions, political as well as natural. A people long used to hardships lose by degrees the very notions of liberty. They look upon themselves as creatures at mercy, and that all impositions, laid on them by a stronger 10 hand, are, in the phrase of the Report, legal and obligatory. Hence proceed that poverty and low- ness of spirit, to which a kingdom may be subject, as well as a particular person. And when Esau came fainting from the field at the point to die, it 15 is no wonder that he sold his birthright for a mess of pottage. I thought I had sufficiently shewn, to all who could want instruction, by what methods they might safely proceed, whenever this coin should be III 1 1 2 THE DRA PIER 'S LE TTERS offered to them; and, I believe, there has not been, for many ages, an example of any kingdom so firmly united in a poipt of great importance, as this of ours is at present against that detestable fraud. But, however, it so happens, that some 5 weak people begin to be alarmed anew by rumours industriously spread. Wood prescribes to the news- mongers in London what they are to write. In one of their papers, published here by some obscure printer, and certainly with a bad design, we are lo told, '' That the Papists in Ireland have entered into an association against his coin," although it be notoriously known, that they never once offered to stir in the matter; so that the two Houses of Parliament, the Privy-council, the great number of 15 corporations, the lord mayor and aldermen of Dub- lin, the grand juries, and principal gentlemen of several counties, are stigmatized in a lump under the name of " Papists." This imposter and his crew do likewise give out, 20 that, by refusing to receive his dross for sterling, we '' dispute the King's prerogative, are grown ripe for rebellion, and ready to shake off the dependency of Ireland upon the crown of England." To coun- tenance which reports, he has published a para- 25 graph in another newspaper, to let us know, that " the Lord-lieutenant is ordered to come over im- mediately to settle his halfpence." I entreat you, my dear countrymen, not to be under the least concern upon these and the like ru- 30 mours, which are no more than th^ Ust howls of a THE DRAPIER'S LETTERS 1 13 dog dissected alive, as I hope he has sufficiently been. These calumnies are the only reserve that is left him. For surely our continued and (almost) unexampled loyalty, will never be called in ques- 5 tion, for not suffering ourselves to be robbed of all that we have by one obscure ironmonger. As to disputing the King's prerogative, give me leave to explain, to those who are ignorant, what the meaning of that word prerogative is. 10 The Kings of these realms enjoy several powers, wherein the laws have not interposed. So, they can make war and peace without the consent of Parliament — and this is a very great prerogative: but if the Parliament does not approve of the war, 15 the King must bear the charge of it out of his own purse — and this is a great check on the crown. So, the King has a prerogative to coin money without consent of Parliament; but he cannot compel the subject to take that money, except it be sterling 20 gold or silver, because herein he is limited by law. Some princes have, indeed, extended their preroga- tive farther than the law allowed them; wherein, however, the lawyers of succeeding ages, as fond as they are of precedents, have never dared to 25 justify them. But, to say the truth, it is only of late times that prerogative has been fixed and ascer- tained; for, whoever reads the history of England will find, that some former Kings, and those none of the worst, have, upon several occasions, ventured 30 to control the laws, with very little ceremony or scruple, even later than the days of Queen Eliza- 114 THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS beth. In her reign, that pernicious counsel of send- ing base money hither, very narrowly failed of losing the kingdom — being complained of by the lord-deputy, the council, and the whole body of the English here; so that, soon after her death, it was 5 recalled by her successor, and lawful money paid in exchange. Having thus given you some notion of what is meant by '' the King's prerogative,'' as far as a tradesman can be thought capable of explaining it, 10 I will only add the opinion of the great Lord Bacon : '' That, as God governs the world by the settled laws of nature, which he has made, and never transcends those laws but upon high im- portant occasions, so, among earthly princes, those 15 are the wisest and the best, who govern by the known laws of the country, and seldomest make use of their prerogative." Now here you may see, that the vile accusation of Wood and his accomplices, charging us with dis- 20 puting the King's prerogative by refusing his brass, can have no place — because compelling the subject to take any coin which is not sterling, is no part of the King's prerogative, and, I am very confident, if it were so, we should be the last of his people to 25 dispute it; as well from that inviolable loyalty we have always paid to his Majesty, as from the treat- ment we might, in such a case, justly expect from some, who seem to think we have neither common sense, nor common senses. But, God be thanjced, 30 the best of them are only our fellow-subjects, and THE DKAFIER'S LETTERS II5 not our masters. One great merit I am sure we have, which those of EngHsh birth can have no pretence to — that our ancestors reduced this king- dom to the obedience of England; for which we 5 have been rewarded with a worse cHmate, — the privilege of being governed by laws to which we do not consent, — 2. ruined trade, — a House of Peers without jurisdiction, — almost an incapacity for all employments, — and the dread of Wood's halfpence. 10 But we are so far from disputing the King's prerogative in coining, that we own he has power to give a patent to any man for setting his royal image and superscription upon whatever materials he pleases, and Hberty to the patentee to offer 15 them in any country from England to Japan; only attended with one small limitation — that nobody alive is obliged to take them. Upon these considerations, I was ever against all recourse to England for a remedy against the pres- 20 ent impending evil; especially when I observed, that the addresses of both Houses, after long expect- ance, produced nothing but a Report, altogether in favour of Wood; upon which I made some obser- vations in a former letter, and might at least have 25 made as many more, for it is a paper of as singular a nature as I ever beheld. But I mistake; for, before this Report was made, his Majesty's most gracious answer to the House of Lords was sent over, and printed; wherein are 30 these words, granting the patent for coining half- pence and farthings, '' agreeable to the practice of Il6 THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS his royal predecessors/' &c. That King Charles II. and King James II. (and they only,) did grant patents for this purpose, is indisputable, and I have shewn it at large. Their patents were passed un- der the great seal of Ireland, by references to Ire- 5 land; the copper to be coined in Ireland; the patentee was bound, on demand, to receive his coin back in Ireland, and pay silver and gold in return. Wood's patent was made under the great seal of England; the brass coined in England; not the 10 least reference made to Ireland; the sum immense, and the paten'^ee under no obligation to receive it again, and give good money for it. This I only mention, because, in my private thoughts, I have sometimes made a query, whether the penner of 15 those words in his Majesty's most gracious answer, *' agreeable to the practice of his royal predeces- sors," had maturely considered the several circum- stances, which, in my poor opinion, seem to make a difference. 20 Let me now say something concerning the other great cause of some people's fear, as Wood has taught the London newswriter to express it, that his Excellency the Lord-lieutenant is coming over to settle Wood's halfpence. 25 We know very well, that the Lords-lieutenants, for several years past, have not thought this king- dom worthy the honour of their residence longer than was absolutely necessary for the King's busi- ness, which, consequently, wanted no speed in the 30 dispatch. And therefore it naturally fell into most THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS I 17 men's thoughts, that a new governor, coming at an unusual timie, must portend some unusual business to be done; especially if the common report be true, that the Parliament, prorogued to I know not 5 when, is by a new summons, revoking that proro- gation, to assemble soon after the arrival; for. which extraordinary proceeding, the lawyers on the other side of the water have, by great good fortune, found two precedents. lo All this being granted, it can never enter into my head, that so little a creature as Wood would find credit enough with the King and his ministers, to have the Lord-lieutenant of Ireland sent hither in a hurry upon his errand. 15 For, let us take the whole matter nakedly as it lies before us, without the refinements of some peo- ple with which we have nothing to do. Here is a patent granted under the great seal of England, upon false suggestions, to one William Wood, for 2o coining copper halfpence for Ireland. The Parlia- m.ent here, upon apprehensions of the worst con- sequences from the said patent, address the King to have it recalled. This is refused; and a commit- tee of the Privy-council report to his Majesty, that 25 Wood has performed the conditions of his patent. He then is left to do the best he can with his half- pence, no man being obliged to receive them; the people here, being likewise left to themselves, unite as one man, resolving they will have nothing to do 30 with his ware. By this plain account of the fact it is manifest. Il8 THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS that the King and his ministry are wholly out of the case, and the matter is left to be disputed be- tween him and us. Will any man, therefore, at- tempt to persuade me, that a Lord-lieutenant is to be dispatched over in great haste before the ordi- 5 nary time, and a Parliament summoned by antici- pating a prorogation, merely to put a hundred thousand pounds into the pocket of a sharper, by the ruin of a most loyal kingdom? But, supposing all this to be true, by what argu- 10 ments could a Lord-lieutenant prevail on the same Parliament which addressed with so much zeal and earnestness against this evil, to pass it into a law? I am sure their opinion of Wood and his project is not mended since their last prorogation; and, sup- 15 posing those methods should be used, which de- tractors tell us have been sometimes put in practice for gaining votes, it is well known, that, in this kingdom, there are few employments to be given; and, if there were more, it is as well known to 20 whose share they must fall. But, because great numbers of you are altogether ignorant of the affairs of your country, I will tell you some reasons why there are so few employ- ments to be disposed of in this kingdom. 25 All considerable ofifices for life are here possessed by those to whom the reversions were granted; and these have been generally followers of the chief governors, or persons who had interest in the Court of England. So, the Lord Berkeley of Stratton 30 holds that great office of master of the rolls; the THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS lip Lord Palmerstown is first remembrancer, worth near £2000 per annum. One Dodington, secre- tary to the Earl of Pembroke, begged the reversion of clerk of the pells, worth £2500 a year, which he snow enjoys by the death of the Lord Newtown. Mr. Southwell is secretary of state, and the Earl of Burlington lord high treasurer of Ireland by in- heritance. These are only a few among many others which I have been told of, but cannot re- 10 member. Nay, the reversion of several employ- ments, during pleasure, is granted the same way. This, among many others, is a circumstance, whereby the kingdom of Ireland is distinguished from all other nations upon earth; and makes it so 15 difificult an affair to get into a civil employ, that Mr. Addison was forced to purchase an old obscure place, called keeper of the records in Bermingham's Tower, of £10 a-year, and to get a salary of £400 annexed to it, though all the records there are not 20 worth half-a-crown, either for curiosity or use. And we lately saw a favourite secretary descend to be master of the revels, which, by his credit and ex- tortion, he has made pretty considerable. I say nothing of the under-treasurership, worth about 25 £9000 a-year, nor of the commissioners of the reve- nue, four of whom generally live in England, for I think none of these are granted in reversion. But the jest is, that I have known, upon occasion, some of these absent officers as keen against the interest 30 of Ireland, as if they had never been indebted to her for a single groat. 120 THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS I confess, I have been sometimes tempted to wish, that this project of Wood's might succeed; because I reflected with some pleasure, what a jolly crew it would bring over among us of lords and squires, and pensioners of both sexes, and offi- 5 cers civil and military, where we should live to- gether as merry and sociable as beggars; only with this one abatement, that we should neither have meat to feed, nor manufactures to clothe us, unless we could be content to prance about in coats of lo mail, or eat brass as ostriches do iron. I return from this digression to that which gave me the occasion of making it. And I believe you are now convinced, that if the Parliament of Ire- land were as temptable as any other assembly 15 within a mile of Christendom, (which God forbid!) yet the managers must of necessity fail for want of tools to work with. But I will yet go one step farther, by supposing that a hundred new employ- ments were erected on purpose to gratify compilers; 20 yet still an insuperable difficulty would remain. For it happens, I know not how, that money is neither whig nor tory — neither of town nor country party; and it is not improbable, that a gentleman w^ould rather choose to live upon his own estate, 25 which brings him gold and silver, than with the ad- dition of an employment, when his rents and salary must both be paid in Wood's brass, at above eighty per cent, discount. For these, and many other reasons, I am confi- 30 dent you need not be under the least apprehension THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS 121 from the sudden expectation of the Lord-lieuten- ant, while we continue in our present hearty dispo- sition, to alter which no suitable temptation can possibly be offered. And if, as I have often asserted 5 from the best authority, the law has not left a power in the crown to force any money, except sterling, upon the subject, much less can the crown devolve such a power upon another. This I speak with the utmost respect to the per- 10 son and dignity of his excellency the Lord Carteret, whose character was lately given me by a gentle- man that has known him from his first appearance in the world. That gentleman describes him as a young nobleman of great accomplishments, excel- 15 lent learning, regular in his life, and of much spirit and vivacity. He has since, as I have heard, been employed abroad; was principal secretary of state; and is now, about the thirty-seventh year of his age, appointed Lord-lieutenant of Ireland. From such 20 a governor, this kingdom may reasonably hope for as much prosperity, as, under so many discourage- ments, it can be capable of receiving. It is true, indeed, that, within the memory of man, there have been governors of so much dex- 25 terity, as to carry points of terrible consequence to this kingdom, by their power with those who are in office; and by their arts in managing or deluding others with oaths, affability, and even with din- ners. If Wood's brass had in those times been upon 30 the anvil, if is obvious enough to conceive what methods would have been taken. Depending per- 122 THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS sons would have been told in plain terms, '' that it was a service expected from them, under the pain of the public business being put into more comply- ing hands." Others would be allured by promises. To the country gentleman, beside good words, 5 burgundy^ and closeting, it might perhaps have been hinted, '' how kindly it would be taken to com- ply with a royal patent, although it were not com- pulsory; that if any inconveniences ensued, it might be made up with other graces or favours hereafter; lo that gentlemen ought to consider whether it were piudent or safe to disgust England. They would be desired to think of some good bills for encour- aging of trade, and setting the poor to work; some farther acts against Popery, and for uniting Prot- 15 estants.'' There would be solemn engagements, " that we should never be troubled with above forty thousand pounds in his coin, and all of the best and weightiest sort, for which we should only give our manufactures in exchange, and keep our gold and 20 silver at home." Perhaps a seasonable report of some invasion would have been spread in the most proper juncture; which is a great smoother of rubs in public proceedings; and we should have been told, '' that this was no time to create differences, 25 when the kingdom was in danger." These, I say, and the like methods, would, in corrupt times, have been taken to let in this deluge of brass among us; and I am confident, even then, would not have succeeded; much less under the 30 administration of so excellent a person as the Lord THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS 1 23 Carteret; and in a country where the people of all ranks, parties, and denominations, are convinced to a man, that the utter undoing of themselves and their posterity for ever, will be dated from the ad- 5 mxission of that execrable coin; that if it once enters, it can be no more confined to a small or moderate quantity, than a plague can be confined to a few famihes; and that no equivalent can be given by any earthly power, any more than a dead carcass 10 can be recovered to life by a cordial. There is one comfortable circumstance in this universal opposition to Mr. Wood, that the people sent over hither from England, to fill up our va- cancies, ecclesiastical, civil, and military, are all on 15 our side. Money, the great divider of the world, has, by a strange revolution, been the great uniter of a most divided people. Who would leave a hundred pounds a-year in England (a country of freedom) to be paid a thousand in Ireland out of 20 Wood's exchequer? The gentleman they have lately made primate, would never quit his seat in an English House of Lords, and his preferments at Oxford and Bristol, worth twelve hundred pounds a-year, for four times the denomination here, but not 25 half the value; therefore I expect to hear he will be as good an Irishman, at least upon this one article, as any of his brethren, or even of us, who have had the misfortune to be born in this island. For, those who in the common phrase do not come hither to 30 learn the language, would never change a better country for a worse, to receive brass instead of gold. 124 THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS Another slander spread by Wood and his emis- saries, is, '' that by opposing him, we discover an inclination to throw off our dependence upon the crown of England/' Pray observe how important a person is this same William Wood, and how the 5 public weal of two kingdoms is involved in his pri- vate interest. First, all those who refuse to take his coin are Papists; for he tells us, *' that none but Papists are associated against him/' Secondly, " they dispute the King's prerogative." Thirdly, 10 '' they are ripe for rebellion." And, fourthly, '' they are going to shake off their dependence upon the crown of England; " that is to say, they are going to choose another king; for there can be no other meaning in this expression, however some may pre 15 tend to strain it. And this gives me an opportunity of explaining to those who are ignorant, another point, which has often swelled in my breast. Those who come over hither to us from England, and some weak 20 people among ourselves, whenever in discourse we make mention of liberty and property, shake their heads, and tell us, that '' Ireland is a depending kingdom;" as if they would seem by this phrase to intend, that the people of Ireland are in some 25 state of slavery or dependence different from those of England: whereas a depending kingdom is a modern term of art, unknown as I have heard to all ancient civilians, and writers upon government; and Ireland is, on the contrary, called in some 30 statutes '' an imperial crown," as held only from THE DRAPIER'S LETTERS 12$ God; which is as high a style as any kingdom is capable of receiving. Therefore, by this expression, " a depending kingdom," there is no more to be understood, than that, by a statute made here in the 5 thirty-third year of Henry VIIL, the King, and his successors, are to be kings imperial of this realm, as united and knit to the imperial crown of Eng- land. I have looked over all the Enghsh and Irish statutes, without finding any law that makes Ire- 10 land depend upon England, any more than Eng- land does upon Ireland. We have indeed obliged ourselves to have the same king with them; and consequently they are obliged to have the same king with us. For the law was made by our own 15 Parliament; and our ancestors then were not such fools (whatever they were in the preceding reign) to bring themselves under I know not what de- pendence, which is now talked of, without any ground of law, reason, or common sense. 2o Let whoever thinks otherwise I, M. B., drapier, desire to be excepted; for I declare, next unto God, I depend only on the King my sovereign, and on the laws of my own country. And I am so far from depending upon the people of England, that if they 25 should ever rebel against my sovereign (which God forbid!) I would be ready, at the first command from his Majesty, to take arms against them, as some of my countrymen did against theirs at Pres- ton. And if such a rebellion should prove so suc- 3ocessful as to fix the Pretender on the throne of England, I w^ould venture to transgress that statute 126 THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS SO far, as to lose every drop of my blood to hinder him from being King of Ireland. It is true, indeed, that within the memory of man, the Parliaments of England have sometimes assumed the power of binding this kingdom by laws 5 enacted there; wherein they were at first openly opposed (as far as truth, reason, and justice, are capable of opposing) by the famous Mr. Molineux, an English gentleman born here, as well as by several of the greatest patriots and best Whigs in 10 England; but the love and torrent of power pre- vailed. Indeed the arguments on both sides were invincible. For, in reason, all government without the consent of the governed, is the very definition of slavery; but, in fact, eleven men well armed will 15 certainly subdue one single man in his shirt. But I have done;- for those who have used to cramp liberty, have gone so far as to resent even the lib- erty of complaining; although a man upon the rack was never known to be refused the liberty of 20 roaring as loud as he thought fit. And as we are apt to sink too much under un- reasonable fears, so we are too soon inclined to be raised by groundless hopes, according to the na- ture of all consumptive bodies like ours. Thus it 25 has been given about, for several days past, that somebody in England empowered a second some- body, to write to a third somebody here, to assure us that we should no more be troubled with these halfpence. And this is reported to have been done 30 by the same person, who is said to have sworn some THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS 12/ months ago, '' that he would ram them down our throats/' though I doubt they would stick in our stomachs; but whichever of these reports be true or false, it is no concern of ours. For, in this point, 5 we have nothing to do with English ministers ; and I should be sorry to leave it in their power to re- dress this grievance, or to enforce it; for the re- port of the Committee has given me a surfeit. The remedy is wholly in your own hands; and therefore 10 I have digressed a little, in order to refresh and con- tinue that spirit so seasonably raised among you; and to let you see, that by the law^s of God, of na- ture, of nations, and of your country, you are, and ought to be, as free a people as your brethren in 15 England. If the pamphlets published at London by Wood and his journeymen, in defence of his cause, were reprinted here, and our countrymen could be per- suaded to read them, they would convince you of 20 his wicked design more than all I shall ever be able to say. In short, I make him a perfect saint in com- parison of what he appears to be from the writings of those whom he hires to justify his project. But he is so far master of the field (let others guess the 25 reason) that no London printer dare publish any paper written in favour of Ireland; and here no- body as yet has been so bold as to publish anything in favour of him. There was, a few days ago, a pamphlet sent me, 30 of near fifty pages, written in favour of Mr. Wood and his coinage, printed in London; it is not worth 128 THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS answering, because probably it will never be pub- lished here. But it gave me occasion to reflect upon an unhappiness we lie under, that the people of England are utterly ignorant of our case; which, however, is no wonder, since it is a point they do 5 not in the least concern themselves about, farther than perhaps as a subject of discourse in a cofifee- house, when they have nothing else to talk of. For I have reason to believe, that no minister ever gave himself the trouble of reading any papers written 10 in our defence, because I suppose their opinions are already determined, and are formed wholly upon the reports of Wood and his accomplices; else it would be impossible that any man could have the impudence to write such a pamphlet as I have men- 1 5 tioned. Our neighbours, whose understandings are just upon a level with ours (which perhaps are none of the brightest), have a strong contempt for most na- tions, but especially for Ireland. They look upon 20 us as a sort of savage Irish, whom our ancestors conquered several hundred years ago. And if I should describe the Britons to you as they were in Caesar's time, when they painted their bodies, or clothed themselves with the skins of beasts, I 25 should act full as reasonably as they do. How- ever, they are so far to be excused in relation to the present subject, that hearing only one side of the cause, and having neither opportunity nor curiosity to examine the other, they believe a lie 30 merely for their ease; and conclude, because Mr. THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS 1 29 Wood pretends to power he has also reason on his side. Therefore, to let you see how this case is repre- sented in England by Wood and his adherents, I 5 have thought it proper to extract out of that pamphlet a few of those notorious falsehoods, in point of fact and reasoning, contained therein; the knowledge whereof will confirm my countrymen in their own right sentiments, when they will see, by 10 comparing both, how much their enemies are in the wrong. First, the writer positively asserts, '' that Wood's halfpence were current among us for several months, with the universal approbation of all peo- 15 pie, without one single gainsayer; and we all, to a man, thought ourselves happy in having them." Secondly, he affirms, '' that we were drawn in'o dislike of them only by some cunning, evil-design- ing men among us, who opposed this patent of 20 Wood to get another for themselves. Thirdly, '' that, those who most declared at first against Wood's patent, were the very men who in- tend to get another for their own advantage.'' Fourthly, '' that our Parliament and Privy-coun- 25 cil, the Lord Mayor and aldermen of DubHn, the grand juries and merchants, and, in short, the whole kingdom, nay, the very dogs," as he ex- presses it, '' were fond of those halfpence, till they v/ere inflamed by those few designing persons 30 aforesaid." Fifthly, he says directly, '' that all those who op- 130 THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS posed the halfpence, were Papists, and enemies to King George." Thus far, I am confident, the most ignorant among you can safely swear, from your own knowl- edge, that the author is a most notorious liar in 5 every article; the direct contrary being so mani- fest to the whole kingdom, that, if occasion re- quired, we might get it confirmed under five hun- dred thousand hands. Sixthly, he would persuade us, " that if we sell 10 five shillings worth of our goods or manufactures for two shillings and fourpence worth of copper, although the copper were melted down, and that we could get five shillings in gold and silver for the said goods; yet to take the said two shillings 15 and fourpence in copper, would be greatly for our advantage." And, lastly, he makes us a very fair offer, as em- powered by Wood, '' that if we will take off two hundred thousand pounds in his halfpence for our 20 goods, and likewise pay him three per cent, inter- est for thirty years for a hundred and twenty thousand pounds (at which he computes the coin- age above the intrinsic value of the copper) for the loan of his coin, he will after that time give us good 25 money for what halfpence will be then left." Let me place this offer in as clear a light as I can, to show the insupportable villainy and impu- dence of that incorrigible wretch. '' First," says he, *' I will send two hundred thousand pounds of my 30 coin into your country; the copper I compute to THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS I3I be, in real value, eighty thousand pounds, and I charge you with a hundred and twenty thousand pounds for the coinage; so that, you see, I lend you a hundred and twenty thousand pounds for 5 thirty years ; for which you shall pay me three per cent., that is to say, three thousand six hundred pounds per annum, which in thirty years will amount to a hundred and eight thousand pounds. And when these thirty years are expired, return me 10 my copper, and I will give you good money for it." This is the proposal made to us by Wood in that pamphlet, written by one of his commissioners : and the author is supposed to be the same infamous Coleby, one of his under-swearers at the committee 15 of council, who was tried for robbing the treasury here, where he was an under-clerk. By this proposal, he will, first, receive two hundred thousand pounds in goods or sterling, for as much copper as he values at eighty thousand 20 pounds, but in. reality not worth thirty thousand pounds. Secondly, he will receive for interest a hundred and eight thousand pounds: and when our children come thirty years hence to return his half- pence upon his executors (for before that time he 25 will be probably gone to his own place) those executors will very reasonably reject them as raps and counterfeits, which they will be, and millions of them of his own coinage. Methinks I am fond of such a dealer as this, who 30 m.ends every day upon our hands, like a Dutch reckoning; wherein if you dispute the unreason- 132 THE DRAPIER'S LETTERS ableness and exorbitance of the bill, the landlord shall bring it up every time with new additions. Although these, and the like pamphlets, pub- lished by Wood in London, are altogether un- known here, where nobody could read them with- 5 out as much indignation as contempt would allow; yet I thought it proper to give you a specimen how the man employs his time, where lie rides alone without any creature to contradict him; while our few friends there wonder at our silence : and the 10 English in general, if they think of this matter at all, ' impute our refusal to wilfulness or disaffection, just as Wood and his hirelings are pleased to represent. But although our arguments are not suffered to be printed in England, yet the consequence will be 15 of little moment. Let Wood endeavour to persuade the people there, that we ought to receive his coin; and let me convince our people here, that they ought to reject it, under pain of our utter undoing; and then let him do his best and his worst. 20 Before I conclude, I must beg leave, in all hu- mility, to tell Mr. Wood, that he is guilty of great indiscretion, by causing so honourable a name as that of Mr. Walpole to be mentioned so often, and in such a manner, upon this occasion. A short 25 paper printed at Bristol, and reprinted here, reports Mr. Wood to say, '' that he wonders at the impu- dence and insolence of the Irish in refusing his coin, and what he will do when Mr. Walpole comes to town." Where, by the way, he is mistaken; for 30 it is the true English people of Ireland who refuse THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS 133 it, although we take it for granted that the Irish will do so too whenever they are asked. In another printed paper of his contriving, it is roundly ex- pressed, '' that Mr. Walpole will cram his brass 5 down our throats.'' Sometimes it is given out, '' that we must either take those halfpence, or eat our brogues:'' and in another newsletter, but of yesterday, we read, '' that the same great man has sworn to make us swallow his coin in fire-balls." lo This brings to my mind the known story of a Scotchman, who, receiving the sentence of death with all the circumstances of hanging, beheading, quartering, embowelling, and the like, cried out, ''What need all this Cookery?" And I think we 15 have reason to ask the same question; for, if we believe Wood, here is a dinner ready for us; and you see the bill of fare; and I am sorry the drink was forgot, which might easily be supplied with melted lead and flaming pitch. 20 What vile words are these to put into the mouth of a great counsellor, in high trust with his majesty, and looked upon as a prime-minister? If Mr. Wood has no better a manner of representing his patrons, when I come to be a great man he shall 25 never be suffered to attend at my levee. This is not the style of a great minister; it savours too much of the kettle and the furnace, and came en- tirely out of Wood's forge. As for the threat of making us eat our brogues, 30 we need not be in pain; for, if his coin should pass, that unpolite covering for the feet would no longer 134 THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS be a national reproach; because then we should have neither shoe nor brogue left in the kingdom. But here the falsehood of Mr. Wood is fairly de- tected; for I am confident Mr. Walpole never heard of a brogue in his whole life. 5 As to ''swallowing these halfpence in fire-balls/' it is a story equally improbable. For, to execute this operation, the whole stock of Mr. Wood's coin and metal must be melted down, and moulded into hollow balls with wild-fire, no bigger than a rea- 10 sonable throat may be able to swallow. Now, the metal he has prepared, and already coined, will amount to at least fifty millions of halfpence, to be swallowed by a million and a half of people : so that, allowing two halfpence to each ball, there will be 15 about seventeen balls of wild-fire a piece to be swal- lowed by every person in the kingdom; and to ad- minister this dose, there cannot be conveniently fewer than fifty thousand operators, allowing one operator to every thirty; which, considering the 20 squeamishness of some stomachs, and the peevish- ness of young children, is but reasonable. Now, under correction of better judgments, I think the trouble and charge of such an experiment would exceed the profit; and therefore I take this report 25 to be spurious, or, at least, only a new scheme of Mr. Wood himself; which, to make it pass the bet- ter in Ireland, he would father upon a minister of state. But I will now demonstrate, beyond all contra- 30 diction, that Mr. Walpole is against this project of THE D RAPIER'S LETTERS 135 Mr. Wood, and is an entire friend to Ireland, only bv this one invincible argument; that he has the universal opinion of being a wise man, an able minister, and in all his proceedings pursuing the 5 true interest of the King his master; and that as his integrity is above all corruption, so is his for- tune above all temptation. I reckon, therefore, we are perfectly safe from that corner, and shall never be under the necessity of contending with so for- lo midable a power, but be left to possess our brogues and potatoes in peace, as remote from thunder as we are from Jupiter. I am, my dear countrymen, Your loving fellow-subject, 15 Fellow-sufferer, and humble servant, M. B. H /»obest proposal FOR PREVENTING THE CHILDREN OF POOR PEOPLE IN IRELAND FROM BEING A BURDEN TO THEIR PARENTS OR COUNTRY, AND FOR MAKING THEM BENEFICIAL TO THE PUBLIC 1729 It is a melancholy object to those who walk through this great town, or travel in the country, when they see the streets, the roads, and cabin- doors, crowded with beggars of the female sex, followed by three, four, or six children, all in rags, 5 and importuning every passenger for an alms. These mothers, instead of being able to work for their honest livelihood, are forced to employ all their time in strolling to beg sustenance for their helpless infants : who, as they grow up^ either turn 10 thieves for want of work, or leave their dear native country to fight for the Pretender in Spain, or sell themselves to the Barbadoes. I think it is agreed by all parties, that this prodi- gious number of children in the arms, or on the 15 backs, or at the heels of their mothers, and fre- quently of their fathers, is, in the present deplorable 136 A MODEST PROPOSAL 137 State of the kingdom, a very, great additional grievance; and, therefore, whoever could find out a fair, cheap, and easy method of making these children sound, useful members of the common- 5 wealth, would deserve so well of the public, as to have his statue set up for a preserver of the nation. But my intention is very far from being confined to provide only for the children of professed beg- gars ; it is of a much greater extent^ and shall take 10 in the whole number of infants at a certain age, who are born of parents in efifect as little able to support them, as those who demand our charity in the streets. As to my own part, having turned my thoughts 15 for many years upon this important subject, and maturely weighed the several schemes of our pro- jectors, I have always found them grossly mistaken in their computation. It is true, a child, just born, may be supported by its mother's milk for a solar 20 year, with little other nourishment ; at most, not above the value of two shillings, which the mother may certainly get, or the value in scraps, by her lawful occupation of begging; and it is exactly at one year old that I propose to provide for them in 25 such a manner, as, instead of being a charge upon their parents, or the parish, or wanting food and raiment for the rest of their lives, they shall, on the contrary, contribute to the feeding, and partly to the clothing, of many thousands. 30 There is likewise another great advantage in my scheme, that it will prevent those voluntary abor- 13^ A MODEST PROPOSAL 1 tions, and that horrid practice of women murdering their bastard children, alas^ too frequent among us ! sacrificing the poor innocent babes, I doubt more to avoid the expense than the shame, which would move tears and pity in the most savage and in- 5 human breast. The number of souls in this kingdom being usu- ally reckoned one million and a half, of these I calculate there may be about two hundred thousand couple whose wives are breeders ; from which num- 10 ber I subtract thirty thousand couple, who are able to maintain their own children, (although I appre- hend there cannot be so many, under the present distresses of the kingdom ;) but this being granted, there will remain a hundred and seventy thousand 15 breeders. I again subtract fifty thousand, for those women who miscarry, or whose children die by accident or disease within the year. There only re- main a hundred and twenty thousand children of poor parents annually born. The question there- 20 fore is, How this number shall be reared and provided for? which, as I have already said, under the present situation of affairs, is utterly impossible by all the methods hitherto proposed. For we can neither employ them in handicraft or agriculture; 25 we neither build houses (I mean in the country,) nor cultivate land : they can very seldom pick up a livelihood by stealing, till they arrive at six years old. except where they are of towardly parts ; al- though I confess they learn the rudiments much 30 earlier; during which time they can^ however, be A MODEST PROPOSAL 139 properly looked upon only as probationers ; as I have been informed by a principal gentleman in the county of Cavan, who protested to me, that he never knew above one or two instances under the 5 age of six, even in a part of the kingdom so re- nowned for the quickest proficiency in that art. I am assured by our merchants, that a boy or a girl before twelve years old is no saleable com- modity ; and even when they come to this age they liowill not yield above three pounds or three pounds and half-a-crown at most, on the exchange ; which cannot turn to account either to the parents or king- dom, the charge of nutriment and rags having been at least four times that value. 15 I shall now, therefore, humbly propose my own thoughts, which I hope w^ill not be liable to the least objection. I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young 20 healthy child, well nursed, is, at a year old, a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed^ roasted, baked, or boiled; and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee or a ragout. 25 I do therefore humbly ofifer it to public consid- eration, that of the hundred and twenty thousand children already computed, twenty thousand may be reserved for breed, whereof only one-fourth part to be males ; which is more than we allow to sheep, 30 black-cattle, or swine ; and my reason is, that these children are seldom the fruits of marriage, a circum- 140 A MODEST PROPOSAL stance not much regarded by our savages, therefore one male will be sufficient for four females. That the remaining hundred thousand may, at a year old, be offered in sale to the persons of quahty and for- tune through the kingdom ; always advising the 5 mother to let them suck plentifully in the last month, so as to render them plump and fat for a good table. A child will make two dishes at an entertainment for friends ; and when the family dines alone, the fore or hind quarter will make a lo reasonable dish, and, seasoned with a little pepper or salt, will be very good boiled on the fourth day, especially in winter. I have reckoned, upon a medium, that a child just born will weigh twelve pounds, and in a solar 15 year, if tolerably nursed, will increase to twenty- eight pounds. I grant this food will be somewhat dear, and therefore very proper for landlords, who, as they have already devoured most of the parents, seem 20 to have the best title to the children. Infants' fliesh wall be in season throughout the year, but more plentifully in March, and a little be- fore and after : for we are told by a grave author, an eminent French physician, that fish being a pro- 25 Hfic diet, there are more children born in Roman Catholic countries about nine months after Lent, than at any other season ; therefore, reckoning a year after Lent, the markets will be more glutted than usual, because the number of Popish infants 30 is at least three to one in this kingdom; and there- A MODEST PROPOSAL I4I fore it will have one other collateral advantage^ by lessening the number of Papists among us. I have already computed the charge of nursing a beggar's child (in which list I reckon all cot- 5 tagers, labourers, and four-fifths of the farmers) to be about two shillings per annum, rags included; and I believe no gentleman would repine to give ten shillings for the carcass of a good fat child, which, as I have said, will make four dishes of ex- 10 cellent nutritive meat, when he has only some par- ticular friend, or his own family, to dine with him. Thus the squire will learn to be a good landlord, and grow popular among his tenants; the mother will have eight shillings net profit, and be fit for 15 work till she produces another child. Those who are more thrifty (as I must confess the times require) may flay the carcass ; the skin of which, artificially dressed, will make admirable gloves for ladies, and summer-boots for fine gen- 20 tlemen. As to our city- of Dublin, shambles may be ap- pointed for this purpose in the most convenient parts of it, and butchers we may be assured will not be wanting ; although I rather recommend buy- 25 ing the children alive, then dressing them hot from the knife^ as we do roasting pigs. A very worthy person, a true lover of his coun- try, and whose virtues I highly esteem, was lately pleased, in discoursing on this matter, to offer a 30 refinement upon my scheme. He said, that many gentlemen of this kingdom, having of late destroyed 142 A MODEST PROPOSAL 4 their deer, he conceived that the want of venison might be well supplied by the bodies of young lads and maidens, not exceeding fourteen years of age, nor under twelve; so great a number of both sexes in every country being now ready to starve for 5 want of work and service ; and these to be disposed of by their parents, if alive, or otherwise by their nearest relations. But, with due deference to so excellent a friend, and so deserving a patriot, I can- not be altogether in his sentiments ; for as to the 10 males, my American acquaintance assured me, from frequent experience^ that their flesh was gen- erally tough and lean, like that of our schoolboys, by continual exercise, and their taste disagreeable ; and to fatten them would not answer the charge. 15 Then as to the females, it would, I think, with humble submission, be a loss to the public, because they soon would become breeders themselves : and besides, it is not improbable that some scrupulous people might be apt to censure such a practice, (al- 20 though indeed very unjustly,) as a little bordering upon cruelty; which, I confess, has always been with me the strongest objection against any project, how well soever intended. But in order to justify my friend, he confessed 25 that this expedient was put into his head by the famous Psalmanazar, a native of the island For- mosa, who came from thence to London above twenty years ago; and in conversation told my friend, that in his country, when any young person 30 happened to be put to death^ the executioner sold A MODEST PROPOSAL 143 the carcass to persons of quality as a prime dainty ; and that in his time the body of a plump girl of fif- teen, who was crucified for an attempt to poison the emperor, was sold to his imperial majesty's 5 prime minister of state, and other great mandarins of the court, in joints from the gibbet, at four hun- dred crowns. Neither indeed can I deny, that if the same use were made of several plump young girls in this town, who, without one single groat to 10 their fortunes, cannot stir abroad without a chair^ and appear at playhouse and assemblies in foreign fineries which they never will pay for, the kingdom would not be the worse. Some persons of a desponding spirit are in great 15 concern about that vast number of poor people, who are aged, diseased, or maimed ; and I have been desired to employ my thoughts, what course may be taken to ease the nation of so grievous an en- cumbrance. But I am not in the least pain upon 20 that matter, because it is very well known^ that they" are every day dying, and rotting, by cold and fam- ine, and filth and vermin, as fast as can be reason- ably expected. And as to the young labourers, they are now in almost as hopeful a condition : they 25 cannot get work, and consequently pine away for want of nourishment, to a degree, that if at any time they are accidentally hired to common labour, they have not strength to perform it ; and thus the country and themselves are happily delivered from 30 the evils to come. I have too long digressed, and the;:efore shall r^- 144 A MODEST PROPOSAL turn to my subject. I think the advantages by the proposal which I have made, are obvious and many, as well as of the highest importance. For first, as I have already observed, it would greatly lessen the number of Papists, with whom 5 we are yearly over-run, being the principal breed- ers of the nation^ as well as our most dangerous enemies ; and who stay at home on purpose to de- liver the kingdom to the Pretender, hoping to take their advantage by the absence of so many good 10 Protestants, who have chosen rather to leave their country, than stay at home and pay tithes against their conscience to an Episcopal curate. Secondly, The poorer tenants will have some- thing valuable of their own, which by law may be 15 made liable to distress, and help to pay their land- lord's rent; their corn and cattle being already seized, and money a thing unknown. ^ Thirdly, Whereas the maintenance of a hundred thousand children, from two years old and upward, 20 cannot be computed at less than ten shillings apiece per annum, the nation's stock will be thereby in- creased fifty thousand pounds per annum, beside the profit of a new dish introduced to the tables of all gentlemen of fortune in the kingdom, who have 25 any refinement in taste. And the money will cir- culate among ourselves, the goods being entirely of our own growth and manufacture. Fourthly, The constant breeders, beside the gain of eight shilHngs sterling per annum by the sale of 30 A MODEST PROPOSAL 145 their children, will be rid of the charge of main- taining them after the first year. Fifthly, This food would Hkewise bring great cus- tom to taverns ; where the vintners will certainly be 5 so prudent as to procure the best receipts for dress- ing it to perfection, and, consequently, have their houses frequented by all the fine gentlemen, who justly value themselves upon their knowledge in good eating: and a skilful cook, who understands 10 how to oblige his guests, will contrive to make it as expensive as they please. Sixthly, This would be a great inducement to marriage, which all wise nations have either en- couraged by rewards, or enforced by laws and 15 penalties. It would increase the care and tender- ness of mothers toward their children, when they were sure of a settlement for life to the poor babes, provided in some sort by the public, to their annual profit or expense. We should see an honest emu- 2olation among the married women, which of them could bring the fattest child to the market. Men would become as fond of their wives during the time of their pregnancy, as they are now of their mares in foal, their cows in calf, their sows when 25 they are ready to farrow; nor offer to beat or kick them (as is too frequent a practice) for fear of a miscarriage. Many other advantages might be enumerated. For instance, the addition of some thousand car- 30 casses in our exportation of barrelled beef ; the propagation of swine's flesh, and improvement in 146 A MODEST PROPOSAL the art of making good bacon, so much wanted among us by the great destruction of pigs, too fre- quent at our table; which are no way comparable in taste or magnificence to a well-grown, fat^ year- ling child, which, roasted whole, will make a con- 5 siderable figure at a lord mayor's feast, or any other public entertainment. But this, and many others, I omit, being studious of brevity. Supposing that one thousand families in this city would be constant customers for infants' flesh, be- 10 side others who might have it at merry-meet- ings, particularly at weddings and christenings, I compute that Dublin would take ofif annually about twenty thousand carcasses ; and the rest of the kingdom (where probably they will be sold some- 15 what cheaper) the remaining eighty thousand. I can think of no one objection that will possibly be raised against this proposal, unless it should be urged, that the number of people will be thereby much lessened in the kingdom. This I freely own, 20 and it was indeed one principal design in offering it to the world. I desire the reader will observe, that I calculate my remedy for this one individual kingdom of Ireland, and for no other that ever was, is, or I think ever can be, upon earth. Therefore 25 let no man talk to me of other expedients : of tax- ing our absentees at five shillings a pound : of using neither clothes, nor household-furniture, ex- cept what is our own growth and manufacture : of utterly rejecting the materials and instruments that 30 promote foreign luxury : of curing the expensive- A MODEST PROPOSAL 1 47 ness of pride, vanity, idleness, and gaming in our women ; of introducing a vein of parsimony, pru- dence, and temperance : of learning to love our country, in the want of which we differ even from 5 Laplanders, and the inhabitants of Topinamboo : of quitting our animosities and factions, nor acting any longer like the Jews, who were murdering one another at the very moment their city was taken: of being a little cautious not to sell our country and lo conscience for nothing : of teaching landlords to have at least one degree of mercy toward their ten- ants : lastly^ of putting a spirit of honesty, industrv, and skill into our shopkeepers; who, if a resolution could now be taken to buy only our native goods, 15 would immediately unite to cheat and exact upon us in the price, the measure, and the goodness, nor could ever yet be brought to make one fair proposal of just dealing, though often and earnestly invited to it. 20 Therefore I repeat, let no man talk to me of these and the like expedients, till he has at least some glimpse of hope, that there will be ever some hearty and sincere attempt to put them in practice. But, as to myself, having been wearied out for 25 many years with ofifering vain, idle, visionary thoughts, and at length utterly despairing of suc- cess, I fortunately fell upon this proposal; which, as it is wholly new, so it has something solid and real^ of no expense and little trouble, full in our own 30 power, and whereby we can incur no danger in dis- obliging England. For this kind of commodity 148 A MODEST PROPOSAL will not bear exportation, the flesh being of too ten- der a consistence to admit a long continuance in salt, although perhaps I could name a country, which would be glad to eat up our whole nation without it. ^ 5 After all, I am not so violently bent upon my own opinion as to reject any offer proposed by wise men, which shall be found equally innocent, cheap, easy, and effectual. But before something of that kind shall be advanced in contradiction to my 10 scheme, and offering a better, I desire the author, or authors, will be pleased maturely to consider two points. First, as things now stand, how they will be able to find food and raiment for a hundred thousand useless mouths and backs. And^ second- 15 ly, there being a round million of creatures in human figure throughout this kingdom, whose whole subsistence put into a common stock would leave them in debt two millions of pounds sterling, adding those who are beggars by profession, to the 20 bulk of farmers, cottagers, and labourers, with the wives and children who are beggars in effect ; I de- sire those politicians who dislike my overture, and may perhaps be so bold as to attempt an answer, that they will first ask the parents of these mortals, 25 whether they would not at this day think it a great happiness to have been sold for food at a year old, in the manner I prescribe, and thereby have avoid- ed such a perpetual scene of misfortunes, as they have since gone through, by the oppression of land- 30 lords, the impossibility of paying rent without A MODEST PROPOSAL 1 49 money or trade, the want of common sustenance, with neither house nor clothes to cover them from the inclemencies of the weather^ and the most in- evitable prospect of entailing the hke, or greater 5 miseries, upon their breed for ever. I profess, in the sincerity of my heart, that I have not the least personal interest in endeavouring to promote this necessary work, having no other mo- tive than the public good of my country, by ad- 10 vancing our trade, providing for infants, relieving the poor, and giving some pleasure to the rich. I have no children by which I can propose to get a single penny; the youngest being nine years old, and my wife past child-bearing. A COMPLETE COLLECTION OF Genteel anJ> Ifngenfous Coupersation ACCORDING TO THE MOST POLITE MODE AND METHOD NOW USED AT COURT, AND IN THE BEST COM- PANIES OF ENGLAND INTRODUCTION As my life hath been chiefly spent in consulting the honour and welfare of my country for more than forty years past, not without answerable suc- cess, if the world and my friends have not flattered me; so, there is no point wherein I have so much 5 laboured, as that of improving and polishing all parts of conversation between persons of quality, whether they meet by accident or invitation, at meals, tea, or visits, mornings, noons, or evenings. I have passed perhaps more time than any other 10 man of my age and country in visits and assemblies, where the polite persons of both sexes distinguish themselves; and could not without much grief ob- serve how frequently both gentlemen and ladies are at a loss for questions, answers, replies and re- i5 joinders. However, my concern was much abated, when I found that these defects were not occasioned by any want of materials, but because those ma- terials were not in every hand: for instance, one lady can give an answer better than ask a question: 20 one gentleman is happy at a reply; another excels in a rejoinder: one can revive a languishing con- versation by a sudden surprising sentence; another 150 POLIl'E CONVERSATION I5I is more dextrous in seconding; a third can fill. the gap with laughing, or commending what hath been said: thus fresh hints may be started, and the ball of discourse kept up. 5 But, alas! this is too seldom the case, even in the most select companies. How often do we see at court, at public visiting days, at great men's levees, and other places of general meeting, that the con- versation falls and drops to nothing, like a fire with- 10 out supply of fuel! This is what we ought to lament; and against this dangerous evil I take upon me to affirm, that I have in the following papers provided an infallible remedy. It was in the year 1695, and the sixth of his late 15 Majesty King William the Third, of ever glorious and immortal memory, who rescued three king- doms from popery and slavery; w^hen, being about the age of six-and-thirty, my judgment mature, of good reputation in the world, and well acquainted 20 with the best families in town, I determined to spend five mornings, to dine four times, pass three afternoons, and six evenings every week, in the houses of the most polite families, of which I would confine myself to fifty; only changing as the 25 masters or ladies died, or left the tow^n, or grew out of vogue, or sunk in their fortunes, (which to me was of the highest moment) or because disaffected to the government; which practice I have followed ever since to this very day; except when I hap- 3opened to be sick, or in the spleen upon cloudy weather; and except when I entertained four of 152 POLIl^E CONVERSATION each sex at my own lodgings once a month, by way of retahation. I always kept a large table-book in my pocket; and as soon as I left the company, I immediately entered the choicest expressions that passed during 5 the visit; which, returning home, I transcribed in a fair hand, but somewhat enlarged; and had made the greatest part of my collection in twelve years, but not digested into any method; for this I found was a work of infinite labour, and what re- lo quired the nicest judgment, and consequently could not be brought to any degree of perfection in less than sixteen years more. Herein I resolved to exceed the advice of Horace, a Roman poet, (which I have read in Mr. Creech's 15 admirable translation) that an author should keep his works nine years in his closet, before he ven- tured to publish them; and finding that I still re- ceived some additional flowers of wit and language, although in a very small number, I determined to 20 defer the publication, to pursue my design, and ex- haust, if possible, the whole subject, that I might present a complete system to the world: for, I am convinced by long experience, that the critics will be as severe as their old envy against me can make 25 them: I foretell, they will object, that I have in- serted many answers and replies which are neither witty, humorous, polite, or authentic; and have omitted others, that would have been highly use- ful, as well as entertaining: but let them come to 30 POLITE CONVERSATION 153 particulars, and I will boldly engage to confute their malice. For these last six or seven years I have not been able to add above nine valuable sentences to enrich 5 my collection; from whence I conclude, that what remains will amount only to a trifle. However, if, after the publication of this work, any lady or gen- tleman, when they have read it, shall find the least thing of importance omitted, I desire they will lo please to supply my defects, by communicating to me their discoveries; and their letters may be di- rected to Simon Wagstafif, Esq., at his lodgings next door to the Gloucester-head in St. James's street, (they paying the postage). In return of 15 which favour, I shall make honourable mention of their names in a short preface to the second edition. In the meantime, I cannot but with some pride, and much pleasure, congratulate with my dear country, which hath outdone all the nations of Eu- 20 rope in advancing the whole art of conversation to the greatest height it is capable of reaching; and tl^erefore being entirely convinced that the collec- tion I now ofifer to the public is full and complete, I may at the same time boldly affirm, that the whole 25 genius, humour, politeness, and eloquence of Eng- land are summed up in it: nor is the treasure small, wherein are to be found at least a thousand shining questions, answers, repartees, repHes, and rejoinders, fitted to adorn every kind of discourse 30 that an assembly of English ladies and gentlemen, met together for their mutual entertainment, can 154 POLITE CONVERSATION- possibly want, especially when the several flowers shall be set off and improved by the speakers, with every circumstance of preface and circumlocution, in proper terms; and attended with praise, laugh- ter, or admiration. 5 There is a natural, involuntary distortion of the muscles, which is the anatomical cause of laughter: but there is another cause of laughter which de- cency requires, and is the undoubted mark of a good taste, as well as of a polite obliging be- lo haviour; neither is this to be acquired without much observation, long practice, and a sound judg- ment: I did therefore once intend, for the ease of the learner, to set down in all parts of the follow- ing dialogues certain marks, asterisks, or nota- 15 hcncs (in English, mark-wells) after most questions, and every reply or answer; directing exactly the moment when one, two, or all the company are to laugh: but having duly considered, that the expe- dient would too much enlarge the bulk of the vol- 20 ume, and consequently the price; and likewise that something ought to be left for ingenious readers to find out, I have determined to leave that whole affair, although of great importance, to their own discretion. 25 The readers must learn by all means to distin- guish between proverbs and those polite speeches which beautify conversation: for, as to the former, I utterly reject them out of all ingenious discourse. I acknowledge indeed, that there may possibly be 30 found in this treatise a few sayings, among so great POLITE CONVERSATION 155 a number of smart turns of wit and humour, as I have produced, which have a proverbial air: how- ever, I hope, it will be considered, that even these were not originally proverbs, but the genuine pro- 5 ductions of superior wits, to embellish and support conversation; from whence, with great impro- priety, as well as plagiarism (if you will forgive a hard word) they have most injuriously been trans- ferred into proverbial maxims; and therefore in lo justice ought to be resumed out of vulgar hands, to adorn the drawang-rooms of princes, both male and female, the levees of great ministers, as well as the toilet and tea-table of the ladies. I can faithfully assure the reader, that there is 15 not one single witty phrase in this whole collection, which hath not received the stamp and approbation of at least one hundred years, and how much longer, it is hard to determine; he may therefore be secure to find them all genuine, sterling, and 20 authentic. But before this elaborate treatise can become of universal use and ornament to my native country, two points, that will require time and much appli- cation, are absolutely necessary. 25 For, first, whatever person w^ould aspire to be completely witty, smart, humorous, and polite, must by hard labour be able to retain in his memory every single sentence contained in this work, so as never to be once at a loss in applying the right an- 30 swers, questions, repartees, and the like, imme- diately, and without study or hesitation. 1S6 POLITE CONVERSATION And, secondly, after a lady or gentleman hath so well overcome this difficulty, as to be never at a loss upon any emergency, the true management of every feature, and almost of every limb, is equally necessary; without which an infinite number of 5 absurdities will inevitably ensue. For instance, there is hardly a polite sentence in the following dialogues which doth not absolutely require some peculiar graceful motion in the eyes, or nose, or mouth, or forehead, or chin, or suitable toss of the 10 head, with certain offices assigned to each hand; and in ladies, the whole exercise of the fan, fitted to the energy of every word they deliver; by no means omitting the various turns and cadence of the voice, the twistings, and movements, and different pos- 15 tures of the body, the several kinds and gradations of laughter, which the ladies must daily practise by the looking-glass, and consult upon them with their waiting-maids. My readers will soon observe what a great com- 20 pass of real and useful knowledge this science in- cludes; wherein, although nature, assisted by gen- ius, may be very instrumental, yet a strong memory and constant application, together with example and precept, will be highly necessary: for these rea- 25 sons I have often wished, that certain male and fe- male instructors, perfectly versed in this science, would set up schools for the instruction of young ladies and gentlemen therein. I remember about thirty years ago, there was a 30 Bohemian woman, of that species commonly POLITE CONVERSATION 157 known by the name of gypsies, who came over hither from France, and generally attended Isaac, the dancing master, when he was teaching his art to Misses of quality; and while the young ladies 5 were thus employed, the Bohemian, standing at some distance, but full in their sight, acted before them all proper airs, and turnings of the head, and motions of the hands, and twistings of the body; whereof you may still observe the good effects in lo several of our elder ladies. After the same manner, it were much to be de- sired, that some expert gentlewomen gone to decay would set up public schools, wherein young girls of quality, or great fortunes, might first be 15 taught to repeat this following system of conversa- tion, which I have been at so much pains to com- pile; and then to adapt every feature of their countenances, every turn of their hands^ every screwing of their bodies, every exercise of their 20 fans, to the huraour of the sentences they hear or deliver in conversation. But above all to instruct them in every species and degree of laughing in the proper seasons at their own w^it, or that of the company. And, if the sons of the nobility and 25 gentry, instead of being sent to common schools, or put into the hands of tutors at home, to learn nothing bu't words, were consigned to able instruc- tors in the same art, I cannot find what use there could be of books, except in the hands of those 30 who are to make learning their trade, which is be- low the dignity of persons born to titles or estates. 158 POLITE CONVERSATION It would be another infinite advantage, that, by cultivating this science, we should wholly avoid the vexations and impertinence of pedants, who affect to talk in a language not to be understood; and whenever a poHte person offers accidentally to use 5 any of their jargon terms, have the presumption to laugh at us for pronouncing those words in a gen- teeler manner. Whereas^ I do here afifirm, that, whenever any fine gentleman or lady condescends to let a hard word pass out of their mouths, every 10 syllable is smoothed and polished in the passage; and it is a true mark of politeness, both in writing and reading, to vary the orthography as well as the sound; because we are infinitely better judges of what will please a distinguishing ear than those, 15 who call themselves scholars, can possibly be; who, consequently, ought to correct their books, and manner of pronouncing, by the authority of our example, from whose lips they proceed with infinitely more beauty and significancy. 20 But, in the mean time, until so great, so useful, and so necessary a design can be put in execution, (which, considering the good disposition of our country at present, I shall not despair of living to see) let me recommend the following treatise to be 25 carried about as a pocket companion, by all gentle- men and ladies, when they are going to visit, or dine, or drink tea; or where they happen to pass the evening without cards, (as I have sometimes known to be the case upon disappointments or ac-30 cidents unforeseen) desiring they would read their POLITE CONVERSATION 159 several parts in their chairs or coaches, to prepare themselves for every kind of conversation that can possibly happen. Although I have in justice to my country, al- 5 lov^ed the genius of our people to excel that of any other nation upon earth, and have confirmed this truth by an argument not to be controlled, I mean, by producing so great a number of witty sentences in the ensuing dialogues, all of undoubted 10 authority, as well as of our own production ; yet,, I must confess at the same time, that we are wholly indebted for them to our ancestors ; at least, for as long as my memory reacheth, I do not recollect one new phrase of importance to have been added ; 15 which defect in us moderns I take to have been occasioned by the introduction of cant words in the reign of King Charles the Second. And those have so often varied, that hardly one of them, of above a year's standing, is now intelligible ; nor 20 anywhere to be found^ excepting a small number strewed here and there in the comedies and other fantastic writings of that age. The Honourable Colonel James Graham, my old friend and companion, did likewise, towards the 25 end of the same reign, invent a set of words and phrases, which continued almost to the time of his death. But, as those terms of art were adapted only to courts and politicians, and extended little further than among his particular acquaintance (of 30 whom I had the honour to be one) they are now almost forgotten. l6o POLITE CONVERSATION Nor did the late D. of R and E. of E ■ succeed much better, although they proceeded no further than single words ; whereof, except hiie, bamboozle, and one or two more, the whole vocabu- lary is antiquated. 5 The same fate hath already attended those other town wits, who furnish us with a great variety of new terms, which are annually changed, and those of the last season sunk in oblivion. Of these I was once favoured with a complete list by the Right lo Honourable the Lord and Lady H , with which I made a considerable figure one summer in the country; but returning up to town in winj:er, and venturing to produce them again, I was partly hooted, and partly not understood. 15 The only invention of late years^ which hath any way contributed towards politeness in discourse, is that of abbreviating or reducing words of many syllables into -one, by lopping ofif the rest. This refinement, having begun about the time of the 20 Revolution, I had some share in the honour of pro- moting it, and I observe, to my great satisfaction, that it makes daily advancements, and I hope in time will raise our language to the utmost perfec- tion ; although, I must confess, to avoid obscurity, 25 I have been very sparing of this ornament in the following dialogues. But, as for phrases, invented to cultivate con- versation, I defy all the clubs of coffee-houses in this town to invent a new one equal in wit, humour, 30 smartness, or politeness, to the very worst of my POLITE CONVERSATION l6l set; which clearly shews, either that we are much degenerated, or that the whole stock of materials hath been already employed. I would willingly hope, as I do confidently believe, the latter; be- 5 cause, having myself, for several months, racked my invention (if possible) to enrich this treasury with some additions of my own (which, however, should have been printed in a different character, that I might not be charged with imposing upon lo the public) and having shewn them to some judi- cious friends, they dealt very sincerely with me ; all unanimously agreeing, that mine were infinitely below the true old helps to discourse, drawn up in my present collection, and confirmed their opinion T5 with reasons, by which I was perfectly convinced, as well as ashamed^ of my great presumption. But, I lately met a much stronger argument to confirm me in the same sentiments ; for, as the great Bishop Burnet, of Salisbury, informs us in the JO preface to his admirable History of his own Times, that he intended' to employ himself in polish- ing it every day of his life, (and indeed in its kind it is almost equally polished with this work of mine) so, it hath been my constant business, for 5 some years past, to examine, with the utmost strictness, whether I could possibly find the small- est lapse in style or propriety through my whole collection, that, in emulation with the Bishop, I might send it abroad as the most finished piece of othe age. It happened one day as I was dining in good 1 62 POLITE CONVERSATION company of both sexes and watching, according to my custom, for new materials wherewith to fill my pocket-book, I succeeded well enough till after dinner, when the ladies retired to their tea, and left us over a bottle of wine. But I found we were not able to furnish any more materials, that were worth the pains of transcribing : for, the discourse of the company was all degenerated into smart sayings of their own invention, and not of the true old standard; so that, in absolute despair, I withdrew, lo and went to attend the ladies at their tea. From whence I did then conclude, and still continue to believe, either that wine doth not inspire politeness, or that our sex is not able to support it without the company of women, who never fail to lead us into iSj the right way, and there to keep us. It much increaseth the value of these apoph- thegms, that unto them we owe the continuance of our language, for at least an hundred years ; neither is this to be wondered at ; because indeed, 2(j besides the smartness of the wit, and fineness of the raillery, such is the propriety and energy of expres- sion in them all, that they never can be changed, but to disadvantage, except in the circumstance of using abbreviations; which, however, I do not des-2 pair, in due time, to see introduced, having already met them at some of the choice companies in town. Although this work be calculated for all persons of quality and fortune of both sexes ; yet the reader may perceive, that my particular view was to the si officers of the army, the gentlemen of the inns of » POLITE CONVERSATION 1 63 courts, and of both the universities ; to all courtiers, male and female, but principally to the maids of honour, of whom I have been personally acquainted with two-and-twenty sets, all excelHng in this noble 5 endowment ; till for some years past^ I know not how, they came to degenerate into selling of bar- gains, and freethinking ; not that I am against either of these entertainments at proper seasons, in compliance with company who may want a taste 10 for more exalted discourse, whose memories may be short, who are too young to be perfect in their lessons. Or (although it be hard to conceive) who have no inclination to read and learn my instruc- tions. And besides, there is a strong temptation 15 for court ladies to fall into the two amusements above mentioned, that they may avoid the censure of affecting singularity, against the general current and fashion of all about them : but, however, no man will pretend to affirm, that either bargains or 20 blasphemy, which are the principal ornaments of freethinking, are so good a fund of polite discourse, as what is to be met with in my collection. For, as to bargains, few of them seem to be excellent in their kind, and have not much variety, because they 25 all terminate in one single point ; and, to multiply them, would require more invention than people have to spare. And, as to blasphemy or freethink- ing, I have known some scrupulous persons, of both sexes, who, by a prejudiced education, are 30 afraid of sprights. I must, however, except the maids of honour, who have been fully convinced, by 164 POLITE CONVERSATION an infamous court chaplain, that there is no such place as hell. I cannot, indeed^ controvert the lawfulness of freethinking, because it hath been universally al- lowed that thought is free. But, however, although it may af¥ord a large field of matter; yet in my poor opinion, it seems to contain very little of wit or humour ; because it hath not been ancient enough among us to furnish established authentic expressions, I mean, such as must receive a sane- 10 tion from the polite world, before their authority can be allowed; neither was the art of blasphemy or freethinking invented by the court, or by persons of great quality, who properly speaking, were patrons, rather than inventors of it; but first 15 brought in by the fanatic faction, towards the end of their power, and after the restoration^ carried to Whitehall by the converted rumpers, with very good reasons; because they knew, that King Charles the Second, who, from a wrong education, 20 occasioned by the troubles of his father, had time enough to observe, that fanatic enthusiasm directly led to atheism, which agreed with the dissolute in- clinations of his youth; and, perhaps, these princi- ples were farther cultivated in him by the French 25 Huguenots, who have been often charged with spreading them among us : however, I cannot see where the necessity lies, of introducing new and foreign topics for conversation, while we have so plentiful a stock of our own growth. 30 I have likewise, for some reasons of equal weight, POLITE CONVERSATION 1 65 been very sparing in double entendres ; because they often put ladies upon affected constraints, and af- fected ignorance. In shorty they break, or very much entangle, the thread of discourse ; neither am 5 I master of any rules, to settle the disconcerted countenances of the females in such a juncture; I can, therefore, only allow innuendoes of this kind to be delivered in whispers, and only to young ladies under twenty, who, being in honour obliged 10 to blush, it may produce a new subject for dis- course. Perhaps the critics may accuse me of a defect in my following system of polite conversation ; that there is one great ornament of discourse, whereof t5 I have not produced a single example ; which, in- deed, I purposely omitted for some reasons that I shall immediately offer; and, if those reasons will not satisfy the male part of my gentle readers, the defect may be supplied in some manner by an ap- jopendix to the second edition; which appendix shall ' be printed by itself, and sold for sixpence, stitched, and with a marble cover, that my readers may have no occasion to complain of being defrauded. The defect I mean is, my not having inserted, 5 into the body of my book, all the oaths now most in -fashion for embellishing discourse ; especially since it could give no offence to the clergy, who are sel- dom or never admitted to these polite assemblies. And it must be allowed, that oaths, well chosen, )are not only very useful expletives to matter, but great ornaments of style. i l66 POLITE CONVERSATION - What I shall here offer in my own defence upon this important article, will, I hope, be some extenu- ation of my fault. First, I reasoned with myself, that a just collec- tion of oaths, repeated as often as the fashion re- quires, must have enlarged this volume, at least, to double the bulk; whereby it would not only double the charge, but likewise make the volume less commodious for pocket carriage. Secondly, I have been assured by some judicious ic friends, that themselves have known certain ladies to take offence (whether seriously or no) at too great a profusion of cursing and swearing, even when that kind of ornament was not improperly in- troduced ; which, I confess, did startle me not a ij little ; having never observed the like in the com- pass of my own several acquaintance, at least for twenty years past. However, I was forced to sub- mit to wiser judgments than my own. Thirdly, as this most useful treatise is calculated 2( for all future times, I considered, in this maturity of my age, how great a variety of oaths I have heard since I began to study the world, and to know men and manners. And here I found it to be true what I have read in an ancient poet. ; ''For, now-a-days, men change their oaths, As often as they change their clothes." In short, oaths are the children of fashion, they are in some sense almost annuals, like what I ob- s* served before of cant words; and I myself can re- POLITE CONVERSATION 167 member about forty different sets. The old stock oaths I am confident, do not mount to above forty- five, or fifty at most; but the way of mingHng and compounding them is almost as various as that of 5 the alphabet. Sir John Perrot was the first man of quality whom I find upon record to have sworn by God's wounds. He lived in the reign of Queen Elizabeth and was supposed to have been a natural son of 10 Henry the Eighth, who might also have probably been his instructor. This oath indeed still con- tinues, and is a stock oath to this day; so do sev- eral others that have kept their natural simplicity: but, infinitely the greater number hath been so fre- 15 quently changed and dislocated, that if the invent- ors were now alive, they could hardly understand them. Upon these considerations I began to appre- hend, that if I should insert all the oaths as are now current^ my book would be out of vogue with 20 the first change of fashion, and grow useless as an old dictionary: whereas, the case is quite other- ways with my collection of polite discourse; which as I before observed, hath descended by tradition for at least an hundred years, without any change 25 in the phraseology. I, therefore, determined with myself to leave out the whole system of swearing; because, both the male and female oaths are all per- fectly well known and distinguished; new ones are easily learned, and with a moderate share of dis- 30 cretion may be properly applied on every fit occa- sion. However, I must here, upon this article of 168 POLITE CONVERSATION swearing, most earnestly recommend to my male readers, that they would please a little to study variety. For, it is the opinion of our most refined swearers, that the same oath or curse, cannot, con- sistent with true politeness, be repeated above nine 5 times in the same company, by the same person, and at one sitting. I am far from desiring, or expecting, that all the polite and ingenious speeches, contained in this work, should, in the general conversation between 10 ladies and gentlemen, come in so quick and so close as I have here delivered them. By no means: on the contrary, they ought to be husbanded better, and spread much thinner. Nor, do I make the least question, but that, by a discreet thrifty manage- 15 ment, they may serve for the entertainment of a whole year, to any person, who does not make too long or too frequent visits in the same family. The flowers of wit, fancy, wisdom, humour, and polite- ness, scattered in this volume, amount to one 20 thousand, seventy and four. Allowing then to every gentleman and lady thirty visiting families, (not insisting upon fractions) there will want but little of an hundred polite questions, answers, re- plies, rejoinders, repartees, and remarks, to be rj daily delivered fresh, in every company, for twelve solar months; and even this is a higher pitch of delicacy than the world insists on, or hath reason to expect. But I am altogether for exalting this science to its utmost perfection. 30 It may be objected, that the publication of my POLITE CONVERSATION 1 69 book may, in a long course of time, prostitute this noble art to mean and vulgar people; but, I answer, that it is not so easy an acquirement as a few ignorant pretenders may imagine. A footman can 5 swear; but he cannot swear like a lord. He can swear as often; but, can he swear with equal deli- cacy, propriety, and judgment? No, certainly; unless he be a lad of superior parts, of good mem- ory, a diligent observer; one who hath a skilful 10 ear, some knowledge in music, and an exact taste, which hardly fall to the share of one in a thousand among that fraternity, in as high favour as they now stand with their ladies; neither hath one foot- man in six so fine a genius as to relish and apply 15 those exalted sentences comprised in this volume, which I offer to the world. It is true, I cannot see that the same ill consequences would follow from the waiting-woman, who, if she hath been bred to read romances, may have som.e small subaltern, or 20 second-hand politeness; and if she constantly at- tends the tea, and be a good listener, may, in some years, make a tolerable figure, which will serve, per- haps, to draw in the young chaplain or the old steward. But, alas! after all, how can she acquire 25 those hundreds of graces and motions, and airs, the whole military management of the fan, the contor- tions of every muscular motion in the face, the ris- ings and fallings, the quickness and slowness of the voice, with the several turns and cadences; the 30 proper junctures of smiling and frowning, how often and how loud to laugh, when to jibe and 1/0 POLITE CONVERSATION when to flout, with all the other branches of doc- trine and discipline above recited? I am, therefore, not under the least apprehension that this art will be ever in danger of falling into common hands, which requires so much time, study, practice, and genius, before it arrives to per- fection; and, therefore, I must repeat my proposal for erecting public schools, provided with the best and ablest masters and mistresses, at the charge of the nation. lo I have drawn this work into the form of a dia- logue, after the patterns of other famous writers in history, law, politics, and most other arts and sciences, and I hope it will have the same success: for, who can contest it to be of greater consequence 15 to the happiness of these kingdoms, than all human knowledge put together. Dialogue is held the best method of inculcating any part of knowledge; and, as I am confident, that public schools will soon be founded for teaching wit and politeness, after my 20 scheme, to young people of quality and fortune, I have determined next session to deliver a petition to the House of Lords for an act of Parliament, to establish my book, as the standard grammar in all the principal cities of the kingdom where this art 25 is to be taught, by able masters, who are to be ap- proved and recommended by me; which is no more than Lily obtained only for teaching words in a language wholly useless: neither shall I be so far wanting to myself, as not to desire a patent granted 30 of course to all useful projectors; I mean, that I POLITE CONVERSATION I/I may have the sole profit of giving a hcense to every school to read my grammar for fourteen years. The reader cannot but observe what pains I have been at in polishing the style of my book to the 5 greatest exactness: nor, have I been less diligent in refining the orthography, by spelling the words in the very same manner that they are pronounced by the chief patterns of politeness, at court, at levees, at assemblies, at play houses, at the prime lo visiting places, by young templers, and by gentle- men commoners of both universities, who have lived at least a twelvemonth in town, and kept the best company. Of these spellings the public will meet with many examples in the following book. For instance, can't, han't, sha'nt, didn't, coodn't, zvoodn't, isn't, e'n't, w4th many more ; besides sev- eral words which scholars pretend are derived from 15 Greek and Latin, but not pared into a polite sound by ladies, officers of the army, courtiers, and temp- lers, such as jommetry for geometry, verdi for ver- dict. Herd for lord, larnen for learning', together with some abbreviations exquisitely refined; as, pozz for 20 positive] mobb for mobile; pliizz for physiognomy, rep for reputation] plenipo for plenipotentiary] incog for incognito] hypps, or hippo, for hypocondriacs] bam for bamboozle] and bamboozle ior God knows what] whereby much time is saved, and the high road to 25 conversation cut short by many a mile. I have, as it will be apparent, laboured very much, and, I hope, with felicity enough, to make every character in the dialogue agreeable with it- 172 POLITE CONVERSATION self, to a degree, that, whenever any judicious per- son shall read my book aloud, for the entertain- ment and instruction of a select company, he need not so much as name the particular speakers; be- cause all the persons, throughout the several sub- 5 jects of conversation, strictly observe a dififerent manner, peculiar to their characters, which are of dififerent kinds : but this I leave entirely to the pru- dent and impartial reader's discernment. Perhaps the very manner of introducing the sev- 10 era! points of wit and humour may not be less en- tertaining and instructing than the matter itself. In the latter I can pretend to little merit; because it entirely depends upon the memory and the happi- ness of having kept polite company. But, the art 15 of contriving, that those speeches should be intro- duced naturally, as the most proper sentiments to be delivered upon so great variety of subjects, I take to be a talent somewhat uncommon, and a labour that few people could hope to succeed in un- 20 less they had a genius, particularly turned that way, added to a sincere disinterested love of the public. Although every curious question, smart answer, and witty reply be little known to many people; yet, there is not one single sentence in the whole 25 collection, for which I cannot bring most authentic vouchers, whenever I shall be called; and, even for some expressions, which to a few nice ears may perhaps appear somewhat gross, I can produce the stamp of authority from courts, chocolate-houses, 30 theatres, assemblies, drawing-rooms, levees, card POLITE CONVERSATION 173 meetings, balls, and masquerades, from persons of both sexes, and of the highest titles next to royal. However, to say the truth, I have been very sparing in my quotations of such sentiments that seem to 5 be over free; because, when I began my collection, such kind of converse was almost in its infancy, till it was taken into the protection of my honoured patronesses at court, by whose countenance and sanction it hath become a choice flower in the nose- lo gay of wit and politeness. Some will perhaps object, that when I bring my company to dinner, I mention too great a variety of dishes, not always consistent with the art of cookery, or proper for the season of the year, and 15 part of the first course mingled with the second, besides a failure in politeness, by introducing black pudding to a lord's table, and at a great entertain- ment: but, if I had omitted the black pudding, I desire to know what would have become of that 20 exquisite reason given by Miss iSTotable for not eat- ing it; the world perhaps might have lost it for- ever, and I should have been justly answerable for having left it out of my collection. I therefore can- not but hope, that such hypercritical readers will 25 please to consider, my business was to make so full and complete a body of refined sayings, as com- pact as I could; only taking care to produce them in the most natural and probable manner, in order to allure my readers into the very substance and 30 marrow of this most admirable and necessary art. I am heartily sorry, and was much disappointed 1/4 POLITE CONVERSATION to find, that so universal and polite an entertain- ment as cards, hath hitherto contributed very little to the enlargement of my work : I have sat by many hundred times with the utmost vigilance, and my table-book ready, without being able in eight hours 5 to gather matter for one single phrase in my book. But this, I think, may be easily accounted for by the turbulence and justling of passions upon the various and surprising turns, incidents, revolutions, and events of good and evil fortune, that arrive in 10 the course of a long evening at play; the mind be- ing wholly taken up, and the consequence of non- attention so fatal. Play is supported upon the two great pillars of deliberation and action. The terms of art are few, 15 prescribed by law and custom; no time allowed for digressions or trials of wit. Quadrille in particular bears some resemblance to a state of nature, which, we are told, is a state of war, wherein every woman is against every woman : the unions short, incon- 20 stant, and soon broke; the league made this minute without knowing the ally; and dissolved in the next. Thus, at the game of quadrille, female brains are always employed in stratagem, or their hands in action. Neither can I find, that our art hath 25 gained much by the happy revival of masquerading among us; the whole dialogue in those meetings being summed up in one sprightly (I confess, but) single question, and as sprightly an answer. '' Do you know me?" "Yes, I do." And, /' Do you 30 know me?" ''Yes, I do," For thi3 reason I did POLITE CONVERSATION 175 not think it proper to give my readers the trouble of introducing a masquerade, merely for the sake of a single question, and a single answer. Espe- cially when to perform this in a proper manner, I 5 must have brought in a hundred persons together, of both sexes, dressed in fantastic habits for one minute, and dismissed them the next. Neither is it reasonable to conceive that our science can be much improved by masquerades ; 10 where the wit of both sexes is altogether taken up in continuing singular and humoursome disguises ; and their thoughts entirely employed in bringing intrigues and assignations of gallantry to an happy conclusion. 15 The judicious reader will readily discover, that I make Miss Notable my heroine and Mr. Thomas Never-out my hero. I have laboured both their characters with my utmost ability. It is into their mouths that I have put the liveliest questions, an- 2oSwers, repartees, and rejoinders; because my de- sign was to propose them both as patterns for all young bachelors and single ladies to copy after. By which I hope very soon to see polite conversa- tion flourish between both sexes in a more consum- 25 mate degree of perfection, than these kingdoms have yet ever known. I have drawn some lines of Sir John Linger's character, the Derbyshire knight, on purpose to place it in counter-view or contrast with that of the 30 other company ; wherein I can assure the reader, that I intended not the least reflection upon Derby- 1/6 POLITE CONVERSATION shire, the place of my nativity. But, my intention was only to show the misfortune of those persons, who have the disadvantage to be bred out of the circle of politeness ; whereof I take the present lim- its to extend no further than London, and ten 5 miles round ; although others are pleased to com- pute it within the bills of mortality. If you com- pare the discourses of my gentlemen and ladies with those of Sir John^ you will hardly conceive him to have been bred in the same climate, or under 10 the same laws, language, religion, or government : and, a.ccordingly, I have introduced him speaking in his own rude dialect, for no other reason than to teach my scholars how to avoid it. The curious reader will observe, that when con- 15 versation appears in danger to flag, which, in some places, I have artfully contrived, I took care to in- vent some sudden question, or turn of wit, to revive it; such as these that follow. ''What? I think here's a silent meeting! Come, madam, a penny 20 for your thought " ; with several other of the like sort. I have rejected all provincial or country turns of wit and fancy, because I am acquainted with a very few ; but, indeed, chiefly because I found them so very much inferior to those at court, espe- 25 cially among the gentlemen ushers, the ladies of the bed-chamber, and the maids of honour ; I must also add, the hither end of our noble metropolis. When this happy art of polite conversing shall be thoroughly improved, good company will be no 30 longer pestered with dull, dry, tedious story tellers, POLITE CONVERSATION 177 nor brangling disputers : for, a right scholar, of either sex, in our science, will perpetually interrupt them with some sudden surprising piece of wit, that shall engage all the company in a loud laugh ; 5 and, if after a pause, the grave companion resumes his thread in the following manner ; '' Well, but to go on with my story '' ; new interruptions come from the left to the right^ till he is forced to give over. 10 I have made some few essays toward selling of bargains, as well for instructing those, who delight in that accomplishment, as in compliance with my female friends at court. However, I have trans- gressed a little in this point, by doing it in a man- 15 ner somewhat more reserved than as it is now practiced at St. James's. At the same time, I can hardly allow this accomplishment to pass properly for a branch of that perfect polite conversation, which make the constituent subject of my treatise ; 20 and, for which I have already given my reasons. I have likewise, for further caution, left a blank in the critical point of each bargain, which the saga- cious reader may fill up in his own mind. As to myself, I am proud to own, that except 25 some smattering in the French, I am what the pedants and scholars call, a man wholly iUiterate, that is to say, unlearned. But^ as to my own lan- guage, I shall not readily yield to many persons : I have read most of the plays, and all the miscel- ;,3olany poems that have been published for twenty years past. I have read Mr. Thomas Brown's 178 POLITE CONVERSATION works entire, and had the honour to be his intimate friend, who was universally allowed to be the great- est genius of his age. Upon what foot I stand with the present chief reigning wits, their verses recommendatory, which 5 they have commended me to prefix before my book, will be more than a thousand witnesses : I am, and have been, likewise, particularly acquainted with Mr. Charles Gildon, Mr. Ward, Mr. Dennis, that ad- mirable critic and poet, and several others. Each 10 of these eminent persons (I mean those who are still alive) have done me the honour to read this production five times over with the strictest eye of friendly severity, and proposed some, although very few, amendments, which I gratefully accept- 15 ed, and do here publicly return my acknowledg- ment for so singular a favour. And here, I cannot conceal without ingratitude, the great assistance I have received from those two illustrious writers, Mr. Ozell, and Captain Stevens. 20 These, and some others, of distinguished eminence, in whose company I have passed so many agree- able hours, as they have been the great refiners of our language; so, it hath been my chief ambition to imitate them. Let the Popes, the Gays, the Ar-25 buthnots, the Youngs, and the rest of that snarling ' brood burst with envy at the praises we receive from the court and kingdom. | But to return from this digression. The reader will find that the following collection 30 of polite expressions will easily incorporate with all POLITE CONVERSATION 1 79 subjects of genteel and fashionable life. Those, which are proper for morning tea, will be equally useful at the same entertainment in the afternoon, even in the same company, only by shifting the sev- 5 eral questions, answers, and replies, into different hands ; and such as are adapted to meals will indif- ferently serve for dinners or suppers, only distin- guishing between day-Hght and candle-light. By this method no diligent person, of a tolerable mem- lo ory, can ever be at a loss. It hath been my constant opinion, that every man, who is intrusted by nature with any useful talent of the mind, is bound by all the ties of hon- our, and that justice which we all owe our country, 15 to propose to himself some one illustrious action, to be performed in his life for the public emolu- ment. And, I freely confess, that so grand, so im- portant an enterprise as I have undertaken, and executed to the- best of my power, well deserved a 20 much abler hand, as well as a liberal encourage- ment from the Crown. However, I am bound so far to acquit myself, as to declare, that I have often and most earnestly entreated several of my above- named friends, universally allowed to be of the first 25 rank in wit and politeness, that they would under- take a work, so honourable to themselves, and so beneficial to the kingdom ; but so great was their modesty, that they all thought fit to excuse them- selves, and impose the task on me ; yet in so oblig- 30 ing a manner, and attended with such compliments • on my poor qualifications, that I dare not repeat. l8o POLITE CONVERSATION And, at last, their entreaties, or rather their com- mands, added to that inviolable love I bear to the land of my nativity, prevailed upon me to engage in so bold an attempt. I may venture to affirm, without the least viola- 5 tion of modesty, that there is no man, now alive, who hath, by many degrees, so just pretentions as myself, to the highest encouragement from the Crown, the Parliament, and the Ministry, towards bringing this work to its due perfection. I have lo been assured, that several great heroes of antiquity were worshipped as gods, upon the merit of having civilized a fierce and barbarous people. It is mani- fest, I could have no other intentions ; and, I dare appeal to my very enemies, if such a treatise as mine 15 had been published some years ago, and with as much success as I am confident this will meet, I mean by turning the thoughts of the whole nobility and gentry to the study and practice of polite con- versation ; whether such mean stupid writers, as 20 the Craftsman and his abettors, could have been able to corrupt the principles of so many hun- dred thousand subjects, as, to the shame and grief of every whiggish, loyal, and true protestant heart, it is too manifest, they have done. For, I desire 25 the honest, judicious reader to make -one remark, that after having exhausted the whole in sickly pay- day * (if I may so call it) of politeness and refine- ment, and faithfully digested it in the following dia- * This word is spelt by Latinists Encyclopcrdia ; but the judi- cious author wisely prefers the polite reading before the pedantic POLITE CONVERSATION l8l logues, there cannot be found one expression re- lating to politics ; that the ministry is never mentioned, nor the word king, above twice or thrice, and then only to the honour of majesty; so 5 very cautious were our wiser ancestors in forming rules for conversation, as never to give offence to crowned heads, nor interfere with party disputes in the state. And indeed, although there seem to be a close resemblance between the two words po- 10 liteness and politics, yet no ideas are more incon- sistent in their natures. However, to avoid all appearance of disaffection, I have taken care to en- force loyalty by an invincible argument, drawn from the very fountain of this noble science, in the 15 following short terms^ that ought to be writ in gold, Must is for the king ; which uncontrollable maxim I took particular care of introducing in the first page of my book ; thereby to instil early the best protestant loyal notions into the minds of my read- 20 ers. Neither is it merely my own private opinion, , that politeness is the firmest foundation upon which loyalty can be supported : For, thus hap- pily sings the divine Mr. Tibbalds, or Theobalds, in one of his birthday poems : •»5 ^' I am no schollard; but I am polite: Therefore be sure I am no Jacobite." Hear, likewise, to the same purpose, that great master of the whole poetic choir, our most illustri- I ous laureate, Mr. Colley Cibber. ^ ''Who in his talk can't speak a polite thing, Will never loyal be to George our King." l82 POLITE CONVERSATION I could produce many more shining passages out of our principal poets, of both sexes, to confirm this momentous truth. From whence, I think, it may be fairly concluded, that whoever can most con- tribute towards propagating the science contained 5 in the following sheets, through the kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland, may justly demand all the favour, that the wisest court^ and most judicious senate, are able to confer on the most deserving subject. I leave the application to my readers. 10 This is the work, which I have been so hardy to attempt, and without the least mercenary view. Neither do I doubt of succeeding to my full wish, except among the tories and their abettors ; who being all Jacobites, and, consequently papists in 15 their hearts, from a want of true taste, or by strong affectation, may perhaps resolve not to read my book ; choosing rather to deny themselves the pleas- ure and honour of shining in polite company among the principal geniuses of both sexes throughout the 20 kingdom, than adorn their minds with this noble art ; and probably apprehending (as, I confess nothing is more likely to happen) that a true spirit of loyalty to the protestant succession should steal in along with it. 25 If my favourable and gentle readers could pos- sibly conceive the perpetual watchings, the number- less toils, the frequent risings in the night, to set down several ingenious sentences, that I suddenly or accidentally recollected; and which, 30 without my utmost vigilance, had been irrecover- : POLITE COiSrVERSATlON 1 83 ably lost forever : if they would consider with what incredible diligence I daily and nightly attended at those houses, where persons of both sexes, and of the most distinguished merit, used to meet and 5 display their talents ; with what attention I listened to all their discourses, the better to retain them in my memory; and then, at proper seasons, withdrew unobserved to enter them in my table-book, while the company little suspected what a noble work I 10 had then in embryo : I say, if all these were known to the world, I think, it would be no great pre- sumption in me to expect, at a proper juncture, the public thanks of both Houses of Parliament, for the service and honour I have done to the whole 15 nation by my single pen. Although I have never been once charged with the least tincture of vanity, the reader will, I hope, give me leave to put an easy question: What is become of all the King of Sweden's victories? where 20 are the fruits of them at this day? or, of what bene- fit will they be to posterity? Were not many of his greatest actions owing, at least in part, to fortune? were not all of them owing to the valour of his troops, as much as to his own conduct? Could he 25 have conquered the Polish king, or the Czar of Muscovy, with his single arm? Far be it from me to envy or lessen the fame he hath acquired; but, at the same time, I will venture to say, without brea:ch of modesty, that I, who have alone with this 30 right hand subdued barbarism, rudeness, and rus- ticity, who have established and fixed forever the l84 POLITE CONVERSATION whole system of all true politeness and refinement in conversation, should think myself most inhu- manely treated by my countrymen, and would ac- cordingly resent it as the highest indignity, to be put upon the level, in point of fame, in after ages, 5 with Charles the Twelfth, late King of Sweden. And yet, so incurable is the love of detraction, perhaps beyond what the charitable reader will easily believe, that I have been assured by more than one credible person, how some of my enemies lo have industriously whispered about, that one Isaac Newton, an instrument maker, formerly living near Leicester-fields, and afterwards a workman at the Mint in the Tower, might possibly pretend to vie with me for fame in future times. The man it ^5 seems was knighted for making sun-dials better than others of his trade, and was thought to be a conjurer, because he knew how to draw lines and circles upon a slate, which nobody could under- stand. But, adieu to all noble attempts for endless 20 renown, if the ghost of an obscure mechanic shall be raised up to enter into competition with me, only for his skill in making pot-hooks and hangers with a pencil, which many thousand accomplished gen- tlemen and ladies can perform as well with a pen 25 and ink upon a piece of paper, and, in a manner, as little intelligible as those of Sir Isaac. My most ingenious friend already mentioned, Mr. Colley Cibber, who does too much honour to the laurel crown he deservedly wears (as he hath 30 often done to many imperial diadems placed on his POLITE CONVERSATION^ 1 85 head) was pleased to tell me, that, if my treatise were formed into a comedy, the representation, per- formed to advantage on our theatre might very much contribute to the spreading of polite conver- 5 sation among all persons of distinction through the whole kingdom. I own, the thought was ingenious, and my friend's intention good. But, I cannot agree to his proposal: for, Mr. Cibber himself allowed, that the 10 subjects handled in my v/ork being so numerous and extensive, it would be absolutely impossible for one, two, or even six comedies to contain them. From whence it will follow, that many admirable and essential rules for poHte conversation must be 15 omitted. And here let me do justice to my friend Mr. Tibbalds, who plainly confessed before Mr. Cibber himself, that such a project, as it would be a great diminution to my honour, so it would intolerably 20 mangle my scheme, and thereby destroy the princi- pal end at which I aimed, to form a complete body or system of this most useful science in all its parts. And therefore Mr. Tibbalds, whose judgment was never disputed, chose rather to fall in with my pro- 25 posal mentioned before, of erecting public schools and seminaries all over the kingdom, to instruct the young people of both sexes in this art, according to my rules, and in the method that I have laid down. I shall conclude this long, but necessary intro- 3oduction, with a request, or indeed rather, a just and reasonable demand from all lords, ladies, and l86 POLITE CONX^ERSATWN gentlemen, that while they are entertaining and im- proving each other with those polite questions, answers, repartees, replies, and rejoinders, which I have with infinite labour, and close application, dur- ing the space of thirty-six years, been collecting for 5 their service and improvement, they shall, as an instance of gratitude, ' on every proper occasion, quote my name, after this or the like manner. '' Madam, as our master Wagstafif says." '' My lord, as our friend Wagstafif has it.'' I do likewise lo expect, that all my pupils shall drink my health every day at dinner and supper during my life; and that they, or their posterity, shall continue the same ceremony to my not inglorious memory, after my decease, forever. NOTES A TALE OF A TUB I The Tale of a Tub contains the following divisions not included in this edition : *' Dedication to the Right Honourable John Lord Somers"; "The Bookseller to the Reader"; "The Epistle Dedi- catory to His Royal Highness Prince Posterity"; "The Author's Preface"; " Sect. I — The Introduction"; " Sect. Ill — A Digression Concerning Critics " ; " Sect. V — A Digression in the Modern kind " ; "Sect. VII — A Digression in Praise of Digressions"; "Sect. VIII — A Tale of a Tub [continued]"; "Sect. IX — A Digression con- cerning the Original, the Use, and Improvement of Madness, in a Commonwealth"; "Sect. X — A Farther Digression"; and "The Conclusion." It will be noticed that nearly every other section is called a "digression." "The abuses in religion," Swift says in his Apology (1709), " he proposed to set forth in the allegory of the coats, and the three brothers, which was to make up the body of the dis- course : those in learning he chose to introduce by way of digres- sions." The digressions are in no way inferior in interest to the sections printed here, and are omitted only on account of lack of space. The student is advised, if possible, to read the Tale of a Tub entire. The sections given here "make up the body of the discourse " or tale proper. A Tale of a Tub. This expression was used long before Swift's time to mean an incredible or pointless story. Sir Thomas More ap- plied it to an incoherent speech made in his court by an attorney named Tubbe. One of Ben Jonson's early comedies has this title and a char- acter called Squire Tub. Cf. G. Gascoigne, Certain Notes of Instruc- tion (1575), Arber's ed., p. 32 : " It [an over-elaborated theme] will appear to the skilfull reader but a tale of a tubbe." Sir Thomas Urquhart uses the phrase (1653) to translate Rabelais's " conte de la 187 l88 NOTES ciguoingne " (Book ii, chap. xxix). Cf. also Spectator^ No. 262; and iee Century Dictionary . The following from the "Preface" to the Tale of a Tub will ex- plain Swift's use of the title : ''At a grand committee some days ago, this important discovery was made by a certain curious aud refined observer — that seamen have a custom, when they meet a w^hale, to fling him out an empty tub by way of amusement, to divert him from lay- ing violent hands upon the ship. This parable was immediately myth- ologized; the whale was interpreted to beHobbes's Leviathan, which tosses and plays with all schemes of religion and government, where- of a great many are hollow, and dry, and empty, and noisy, and wooden, and given to rotation : this is the leviathan, whence the ter- rible wits of our age are said to borrow their weapons. The ship in danger is easily understood to be its old antitype, the commonwealth. But how to analyze the tub, was a matter of difficulty; when, after long inquiry and debate, the literal meaning was preserved; and it was decreed, that, in order to prevent these leviathans from tossing and sporting with the commonwealth, which of itself is too apt to fluctuate, they should be diverted from that game by a Tale of a Tub. And, my genius being conceived to lie not unhappily that way, I had the honor done me to be engaged in the performance." 1 : 2, three sons. These, later called Peter, Martin, and Jack, represent the Church of Rome, the Church of England, and the dis- senters. 1:3, 'which was the eldest. It is impossible. Swift means, to give any one of the churches preference on the ground of antiquity. 1: II. The new coat was the Christian faith and doctrine. It was to be ''worn and managed" in accordance with the will^ i.e.^ the Bible. 2 : 27. The Duchess of Money, Madame Great Titles, and the Countess of Pride. Covetousness, ambition, and pride were, according to Wotton, " the three great vices that the ancient fathers inveighed against, as the first corruptions of Christianity." 2:31. Swift, in the following, interjects some satire on contem- porary wits. 3 : 8, Locket's was a tavern near Charing Cross (Craik). For WilTs see 75 : 15, note. 3 : 14, sub dio = in the open air. That is, they stayed in the street and never got inside. NOTES 189 4 : 4, idol. The idol is the tailor, and the next line refers to. the proverbial idea that "the tailor makes the man." Tailors lodged in ' ' the highest part of the house " because it was the cheapest; they ) sat on tables with their legs crossed. 4 : 10, a goose. That is, the tailor's goose (smoothing-iron), some learned men pretend, is descended from the sacred geese kept in the Roman capitol. 4 : 14, Hell. The tailor's hell is the place where he throws scraps. In Section III it is made '' the type of the critic's commonplace j book." ' 4 : 24, Cercopithecus = a kind of long-tailed monkey. " The Egyp- tians worshipped a monkey, which animal is very fond of eating lice, styled here creatures that feed on human gore." — Hawkesworth. For an interesting note on this see Lane-Poole, Prose Writings of ' Swift, p. 266. I 4 : 28, yard and needle. Two puns ; the words can mean the ' tailor's yard-stick and needle, or the yard of a mast and the mari- I ner's compass. j 5:6, priinum mobile rr " in the Ptolemaic system of astronomy, the tenth or outermost of the revolving spheres of the universe, which j was supposed to revolve from east to west in twenty- four hours, (and to carry the others along with it in its motion." — Century Dic- tionary. 5 : 10, water-tabby. Tabby was originally any silken stuff, not necessarily watered. Water-tabby is therefore watered silk. The word tabby alone has since come to mean watered silk or any watered material. 5 : 16, 77iicro-coat = coat in miniature, a word coined to resemble viicrocosm. Swift says elsewhere : ''Philosophers say that m.an is a microcosm, or little world, resembling in miniature every part of the great ; and the body natural may be compared to the body politic." One of these philosophers was Paracelsus, whose '-models were the oriental reveries of the Cabbala and the theosophy of the mystics. He seized hold of a notion which easily seduces the imagination of those who do not ask for rational proof, that there is a constant anal- ogy between the macrocosm, as they called it, of external nature, and ".he microcosm of man. " — Hallam, Introduction to the Literature of Europe, pt. i, chap, vii, sec. i, § 17. 6 : 14. The two preceding paragraphs contain the germ of Car- I go NOTES lyle's '' clothes philosophy. " Carlyle was familiar with Swift and many ideas in Sartor Resartus are suggested by the Tale of a Tub. Carlyle refers specifically to these paragraphs in Sartor^ Bk. iii, chap, xi : '' The doctrine, which Swift, with the keen forecast of genius, dimly anticipated, will stand revealed in clear light : that the Tailor is not only a Man, but something of a Creator or Divin- ity." The fact, however, hardly detracts from Carlyle's origin- ality : he made infinitely more of the clothes idea than the jest with which Swift stopped. 6:21, ex traduce^ from Latin tradux^ a vine-layer trained for prop- agation. This passage refers to a theological controversy as to the origin of the soul. Traducianism was the theory that the soul of man is derived from the souls of his parents, just as his body is derived from their bodies ; i.e.^ both are ex traduce. Creationism was the opposing theory, that only the body is ex traduce^ and that each soul is a separate creation. This point was much discussed in the seven- teenth century. Craik refers to Sir Thomas Browne, who mentions traduction [Religio Medici, i, 36); and to Sir Kenelm Digby, who in his Observations says : "It [the soul] is not ex traduce, and yet hath a strange kind of near dependence on the body, which is, as it were, God's instrument to create it by." 6 : 23, in them we live. Cf. Acts, chap, xvii, v. 28, "In him we live, and move, and have our being." In his Defeats e of the Reflec- tions (1705), which includes Observations upon the Tale of a Tttb, William Wotton criticises Swift for the light use of this passage from the Bible. Swift made a general reply in his Apology (1709). 6 ; 25, all in all, and all in every part. Swift has in mind Anax- agoras's doctrine of the homogeneity of the universe, according to Craik, who quotes Lucretius, Bk. i, v. 876 : "Quod Anaxagoras sibi sumit, ut omnibus omnes res putet immixtas rebus latitare," ' etc. ; "all things lie secretly mixed with all things." 8 : 10, all of a piece ; but, at the same time, very plain. "This, Wotton says, "is the distinguishing character of the Christian reli- gion : Christiana religio absoluta et simplex^ was Ammianus Marcel- linus's description of it, who was himself a heathen." 8 : 15, ruclles. The ruelle was primarily the space between the bed and the wall; hence the bedroom, or alcove to a bedroom, in which fine ladies in France during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries held receptions in the morning. At this hour persons oii NOTES 191 fashion, wit, and learning were to be found in the ruelles ; and men of fashion were called ho??ij?ies de ruelles. 8:21, twelve penny gallery. The cheapest part of the playhouse. 8 : 22, I anifirst sculler. Of the boats on the Thames "some are rowed but by one man, others by two; the former are called scull- ers, and the latter oars." — Misson in Ashton's Social Life in the Reign of Queen An7ie, chap, xxxiv. The waterman takes it for granted that the brothers want the cheaper boat. 8 : 23, the Rose was a famous tavern in Russell street, Covent Garden, — conveniently near the two theatres, Drury Lane and Lin- coln's Inn Fields. Also near Will's (see 75 : 15, note). 9 : 4, totideiu verbis — in so many words. 9 : 6, inclusive is apparently a Latin word taken from one of the theological writers whom Swift is ridiculing. It is not classical, and is uncommon in mediaeval Latin. 9:21, the distinguishing brother is Peter. 9 : 26, Q. V. C. =^ quibusdam veteribus codicibus ; in some ancient manuscripts. 10 : 2, shoulder knots. These represent the first additions and cor- ruptions introduced in the early church. 10 : 3, jure paterno = in accordance with paternal law. The words are simply the allegorical substitute for jure divino. Abuses in the church were justified a.s Jure divino. 10 : 10, gold lace represents further unauthorized addition to the primitive teaching, perhaps in the way of useless ornamentation in the churches and services. 10 : 23, aliquo mo do ess entice adhcerere. See 10 : 26, note. 10 : 26, dialectica. This title was given, in Latin translations, to Aristotle's Oiganon^ though the more common title was Logica. See Buhle, Aristotelis Opera, vol. i, p. 234. The book De Interpreta- tione is the second of the six logical treatises which make up the Organon and treats of the expression of thought in language. It contains, for example, chapters ''Of Affirmation and Negation," *' Of Contraries and Contradictories." Since it was near the begin- ning of Aristotle's logical writings and treated of forms of disputa- tion, a subject particularly interesting to the Schoolmen, the De In- terpretatione was much studied in the middle ages. In the Latin phrases following (11. 32, 33) Swift is ridiculing the conventional argumentative forms of the Schoolmen. 192 NOTES 11 : I, nunciipatory and scriptory r= oral and written wills. The English law tends to restrict nuncupatory wills, allowing them only in the case of soldiers in actual service and seamen at sea. The nuncupatory will here represents oral tradition in the church as opposed to the written directions of the Bible. 11 : 16, flame-coloured satin. ^'This is purgatory, whereof he speaks more particularly hereafter; but here only to show how Scrip- ture was perverted to prove it, which was done, by giving equal authority with the canon to Apocrypha, called here a codicil an- nexed." — Hawkesworth. 11 : 19, ??ty Lord C — and Sir y. W. The names. Lord Conway and Sir John Walters, are given instead of the initials in some edi- tions. Sir John Walters is several times mentioned in the Journal to Stella. 12 : 5, codicil. The Apocryphal books, which among the Jews were uncanonical {i.e.^ were not included in the Hebrew Bible) but which were later given more or less authority, are spoken of as codi- cils. In the book of Tobit, here referred to particularly, Tobit is accompanied in his wanderings by his dog and the book is therefore ''by a dog-keeper." The book is considered authoritative by the Roman Catholic Church and is apparently used to support the doc- trine of purgatory. 12:21, silver fringe. Some other corruption; according to an early note the pompous habits of the clergy. But cf. 14 : 23 ; 32 : 9. 13 : 23, Indian figures of men^ wo7nen^ and children. Images of the saints and of the Virgin and Child in the churches. 14 : 4. " The excuse was made for the worship of images by the Church of Rome, that they were used, not as idols, but as helps to devotional recollection of those whom they represented." — Scott. 14 : 16, to lock up their father' s will^ etc. The use of the Scriptures in the vulgar tongues was forbidden. They could be read only in the Greek or in the Latin of the Vulgate. 14 : 22, an infinite number of points^ most ofthe??t tagged with silver. Papal decrees authorized practices for their revenue (''tagged with silver") and these, whether primitive or not, were pronounced ex cathedra (from the Papal chair) to be jure pater7io (in accordance with Scripture). 15 : I, canonical ^^ authoritative, in accordance with admitted rule. 16 : 7, obtained the favour of a certain lord^ etc. ; that is, he was ad- NOTES 193 mitted by the Roman emperors into Rome as a bishop. The ' ' deed of conveyance," referred to in the next sentence, is the so-called <' Donation of Constantine, " which purported to be an edict issued by the Emperor Constantine in 324 granting to the bishops of Rome the temporal sovereignty of Italy and the West. 16 : 15. Section II covers the period down to the establishment of the Popes in temporal power; Section IV extends from that time to the Reformation. 16 : 2, Peter is taken for a name because the popes trace their line back to St. Peter, the first bishop of Rome. See 31:7, note. 16 : 6, fonde = fund. The latter word has taken the place oifond 2indfonde which were in use in the seventeenth century. Cf. '' some new fonde of wit," in Section VII (omitted in this edition). 16 : 8, projector and virtuoso. The word projector had a peculiar and somewhat opprobrious meaning in Swift's time (cf. our '' specu- lator") which gives point to this satire. See Defoe's zuxxqm's^ Essay upon Projects^ in which numerous projects, or undertakings, are de- scribed, the first being Noah's Ark and the Tower of Babel. In his I dedication Defoe says: ^' And yet your having a capacity to judge of these things no way brings you under the despicable title of pro- jector^ any more than knowing the practices and subtleties of wicked men, makes a man guilty of their crimes." The following pages in the Tale of a Tub recall in so many ways Defoe's Essay that it is hard to believe Swift did not have it in mind, though it did not appear until May 29, 1698. See 18 : 12, note. For virtuoso see 75 : 20, note. 16 : 22, academies. The number of academies which sprang up in Italy and France in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was enor- mous. Cleder, Notice sur V Academic des Intronati, gives a list of 217 which appeared in Italy alone in the last years of the fifteenth cen- tury and during the sixteenth. The first of modern academies seems to have been the Accademia Platonica, started about 1440 at Florence by Cosimo de' Medici ; others appeared immediately in Naples and Rome. The most famous of the Italian societies was the Accademia della Crusca, established in 1582. The Academic Fran^aise dates from 1635. For the academies see La grande encyclopedic^ vol. i, p. 230. 16 : 26, Eastern Missionaries. Two Franciscan missionaries are said to have gone as far as Pekin in the fourteenth century. After the Dpening of navigation (i486) missionaries to the East were common. 194 NOTES 17 : 4, ^ large continent. According to Bentley this is purgatory; according to the Pate MS. it is the West Indies. The paragraph seems to refer to the granting and regranting of newly discovered lands in America by the Popes. 17 : 17, The patient was to eat nothings etc. , Refers to fasting and penances. 17 : 25, a whispering office =z the confessional. 18 : 9j an office of insurance. This office — which insures things without regard for their liability to fire, not only tobacco pipes and martyrs but shadows and rivers — corresponds to the sale of indul- gences to sinners irrespective of guilt. 18 : 12^ friendly societies = mutual benefit or insurance societies. Defoe, in his Essay upon Projects (1697), speaks of them in his pref- ace as very common. The Essay also includes a chapter on friendly societies which defines them (p. 118) as ^'in short, a number of people entering into a mutual compact to help one another in case any disaster or distress fall upon them." 18 : 18, puppets and raree shows = perhaps, images and cere- monial processions. 18 : 22, his famous universal pickle = the '^holy water," which is prepared from salt and water, with exorcism and benediction; and which, consequently, having the same ingredients, *'to the taste, the smell, and the sight, appeared exactly the same," as the ordinary pickle. The "powder pimperlimpimp " is perhaps the salt which is thrown into the water. 19 : 7, spar gef action = sprinkling. 19 : 17, dulls = the papal bulls, of course. 20 : 4, into common lead. The papal bulls were sealed with a leaden bulla^ or round seal, from which came their name. See 20: 19, note. 20: II, squibs and crackers are two kinds of fireworks. ''These are the fulminations of the Pope, threatening hell and damnation to those princes who offend him." 20 : 16. The quotations are from Horace, Ars Poetica^ vv. 1-5. " Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam Jungere si velit, et varias inducere plumas Undique collatis membris, ut turpiter atrum Desinat in piscem mulier formosa superne, Spectatum admissi risum ten^^tis, amici ? " NOTES 195 20: 19, fishes' tails. Papal briefs closed with the words <'snb annulo piscatoris " and were sealed with the ''fisherman's ring," a signet which represents St. Peter fishing. One point which distin- guishes the brief from the bull is that the former is sealed with the annuliis piscatoris while the latter is sealed with the bulla. Swift's reference is therefore slightly inaccurate. 20 : 22, naughty boys. " That is, kings who incurred his displeas- ure." — Hawkes worth. 20 : 26, appetitus sensibilis is about equivalent to liquorish affec- tion (21 : 7). For liquorish see Century Dictionary. 21 : 3, /^z/^^^^V ^jre^2«" /a<:/2^, ''by the throwing of a little dust." See Virgil, Georgics, iv, 87. 21 : 12, bull- beggars = bug-bears. Swift was not the first to use the word with punning reference to the papal bull. See New Eng- lish Dictionary , 21 : 14, some gentlemen of the northwest^ etc. This refers to the English reformation. In 153 1, with other measures aimed at the papal authority, a proclamation was issued making it unlawful to introduce bulls from Rome. 21 :23, a pardon for a certain sum of money. Pardons seem to have been given by the Popes, for money, to criminals held by the civil power. 22 : 5. In Tatler No. 25 (1709), in ridiculing challenges to duels, Steele quotes this passage, softening it somewhat. 22 : 9, man s man. In official documents the Pope was styled servus servorum Dei. 22 : 17, vere adepti. These words were applied by the Rosicrucians and other pretenders to occult wisdom to those who were masters of the arcana^ such as the* secrets of the elixir of life and of turning the baser metals into gold. In Section X of the Tale of a Tub Swift uses "true illuminated" in the same sense. Cf. also Butler, Hudibras^ I, i, 546, " In Rosicrucian lore as learned As he that ver^ adept us earned." 22 : 20, in the operation = in practical use. 22 : 23, innuendo^ as Craik notes, is used not in the usual modern sense but as equivalent merely to hint or reminder. In the Introduc- tion to Polite Conversation (165 : 7) it is used in the ordinary sense, 196 NOTES 23 : 13, three old high-cr owned hats refers, of course, to the Pope's triple tiara which represents the three -fold authority of the head of the Catholic church. The keys are the keys of St. Peter. The angling-rod Wotton explains as the '' fisher's ring," but it is perhaps more natural to take it as the papal staff, which Swift humorously refers to as an angling-rod because St. Peter was a fisherman. 23 : 19, present them with his foot. Refers to the custom of kiss- ing the Pope's foot. 23 : 28, boutade = sally of wit. 23 : 28, hich both their wives, etc. Refers to the celibacy of the Roman clergy. 24 : 2, drop of drink. Refers to the Roman Catholic rule allow- ing laymen communion in only one kind. The passage following of course ridicules the doctrine of transubstantiation. 25 : 13, take me along with yoii. Cf. Henry IV. , Act ii, scene 4, ** I would your grace would take me with you ; whom means your grace?" The expression in 27 : 10 recalls the same scene: ''If that man should be lewdly given." It would be unwise to conclude that Swift had been reading Henry IV. References to Shakspere are very rare in Swift. Scott says in his Life (ed. 1824, p. 466), *'To the drama particularly he was so indifferent, that he never once alludes to the writings of Shakspere, nor, wonderful to be told, does he appear to have possessed a copy of his works." In the yournal to Stella, however, Jan. 8, 1711-12, Swift quotes from Henry VIII. ; and in his Advice to a Young Feet he has some unob- jectionable criticism of Shakspere. 26 : 3. Leadenhall market has existed since as early as the fifteenth century. It is now a poultry and game market but was the principal meat market in Swift's time. Craik, however, aptly quotes from Gay, Trivia, a passage which shows that Leadenhall was not con- sidered the best place to buy mutton : " Shall the large mutton smoke upon your boards? Such Newgate's copious market best affords. Would'st thou with mighty beef augment thy meal ? Seek Leadenhall : St. James's sends thee veal." 27 : 5, that great a7id famous rupture is, of course, the reforma- tion. 27 : 19, gave as much milk at a 7neal. '' The ridiculous multiply- ing of the Virgin Mary's milk among the Papists." — Wotton, NOTES 197 27 : 22, an old sign-post. So many nails and splinters from the true cross were shown that together they would ''build sixteen large men of war." 27 : 25, Chinese waggons. Cf. Paradise Lost, iii, 437. " The barren plains Of Sericana, where Chineses drive With sails and wind their cany wagons light." 27 : 28, a large house of lime and stone., etc. Swift has in mind the Santa Casa or Holy House at Loreto, in Italy. According to Roman Catholic writers this was originally the house of the Virgin at Naza- reth which was made into a church by the apostles and used until the fall of Jerusalem. In 1291, threatened with destruction by the Turks, it was carried by angels and after several moves ('' granting that it sometimes stopped to bait ") deposited in 1294 at Loreto. 28 : 17, copia vera = true copy. Refers to the translations of the Scriptures which let people see at the Reformation ''how grossly they had been abused." 29 : 6, a pardon fro?n the king. Luther taught that remission of sins could be obtained, not by the purchase of an indulgence, but only through the mercy of God. 29 : 7, a file of dragoons is the civil power called on by the Pope to suppress the reformers. 31 : 7, Martin, standing for the Church of England, is from Martin Luther; yack, from John Calvin, represents the dissenters and pres- byterians. Swift gives the brothers their names at the proper point in the story, chronologically; the first brother is called Peter in 16 : 2, but Martin and Jack of course do not come in until the Reformation. 31 : 24, deal entirely with invention, etc. Swift is returning to the subject of the Battle of the Books. Cf. 67 : 12, 69 : 30. 32 : 9, only those tagged with silver ; i.e., only those that would yield a revenue. Cf. " silver fringe," 12 : 21. 32 : 16. Swift in this paragraph means to say that, though the English Church was radical in its reformation at first (in Henry VIII's time), it was afterwards wisely conservative and pursued a middle course. He has shown that the Church of Rome was mer- cenary and idolatrous on the one hand; he proceeds to show that the dissenters were fanatical and hypocritical on the other. 198 NOTES 34 : 6, historUtheo-phy si-logical account. This ridicules the long compounds used for titles and the elaborate subdivisions of their subjects made by the learned writers of the seventeenth century. Cf. the title of Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy^ 1660, " Philosophi- cally, Medicinally, Historically opened «& cut up." 34 : 12, the modern way of subscription. In 1697, while Swift was writing the Tale of a Tub, Dry den's Virgil was published by sub- scription. This new method of selling books doubtless attracted considerable attention. According to Beljame, Le public et les hom7nes de letires, p. 382, Dryden's Virgil was the fourth book published in this way, the others being Walton's Polyglot Bible (1654-57), Ton- son's reprint of Paradise Lost (1688), and A Wood's Aihence Oxo- nienses (1691). But this list is doubtless incomplete; and Walton's Bible was probably not the first. See Dictionary of National Biog- raphy, under ''Walton." 36 : 16, kennel = gutter. 36 : 10, dispensable. Dispensations were licenses granted by church authorities to do what was forbidden, or to leave undone what was required, by ecclesiastical law. Dispensable means subject to such dispensation; permissible though contrary to law. 37 : 5, garnish was money paid by a -'fresh tenant" to the jailer and used partly to buy refreshment for the other prisoners. This payment was abolished by Parliament in 1764. See Fielding, Amelia^ Bk. I, chap. iii. 37 : 7, Exchange women. "The galleries over the piazzas in the Royal Exchange were formerly filled with shops, kept chiefly by women; the same use was made of a building called the New Ex- change in the Strand." — Hawkesworth. 37 : 16, fox's argiwients. See L'Estrange's Fables of ^sop, No. loi, which Swift may have read. The fox, losing his tail in a trap, to persuade the others to cut off theirs, "made a learned discourse upon the trouble, the uselessness, and the indecency of foxes wearing tails." 38 : I. The names refer to particular kinds of dissenters : Jack the bald (calvus) to the Calvinists ; jfack with a lantern to those who pretended to see everything by the inward light of the spirit; Dutch yack to the Anabaptists, of whom John of Leyden was a fanatical leader; French Hugh to the Huguenots; Tom the Beggar to Les Gueux—thQ Beggars — as those who resisted Philip II. and Catholi- NOTES 199 cism in the Low Countries were called; Knocking Jack of the North to the Scotch presbyterians, from John Knox. 38 : 8, epidemic. Frequently used by Swift in the sense of wide- spread. 38 : 8, ^olists. From ^olus, god of the winds. In Section VIII this epidemic sect is described; they ''maintain the original cause of all things to be wind." 38 : 14. ''O'erlaying all with honied charm." Swift misquotes from Lucretius, i, 934, ''Musseo contingens cuncta lepore," confus- ing this line with i, 938 or i, 947. The second syllable of meii'eo^ be- ing short, does not suit the meter, and Scott reads mellceo. 38 : 22, allowing. Misrelated participles are common in Swift. Cf. 40 : 10. 39 : 18, let them jog on. This abrupt change to a more direct form for the sake of vividness would be hardly allowable at present. It is common enough in the prose of Swift's time. Cf. 56 : 22. 40 : 4, from two of the foregoing. Refers probably to two sections omitted here, Section VIII, on the ^olists, and Section IX, on Mad- ness. 40 : 14, mysteries =: hidden significations. 40 : 25, conve7'ting imaginations =: -'imaginations that are always hunting after symbolical interpretations." — Craik. 41 : 4, creature z= first a being created, and so one wholly subser- vient to the will of the creator. Fondest creature = most foolishly credulous slave. 41 : 12, prove this very skin oj parchment to be, etc. Refers to the extravagant reliance of the puritans and dissenters on the Bible, and their belief that the very book itself had miraculous power. 41 : 27, ran wholly in the phrase of his will. Refers to the puritan's constant quotation from the Bible and reference to it. See 45 : 3, note. 41 : 31, never to say grace to his meat. The sacrament was taken by dissenters without ceremony. 42 : 4, snap-dragon, a game, consisted in snatching raisins out of burning brandy. It is described in Tatler, No. 85. 42 : 16, his own lantern. See 38 : I, note. 42 : 27, // was ordained. This passage ridicules the doctrine of foreordination or predestination. 44 : 4, Lauralco. The ' ' valorous Lauralco, Lord of the Silver 200 NOTES Bridge," is one of the knights seen by Don Quixote in his encounter with the sheep. See Part I, chap, xviii. 44 : 17, an ancieyzt temple of Gothic structure. This refers to Stonehenge, a celebrated prehistoric ruin in Salisbury Plain. '^ Swift had, like most of his contemporaries, no interest whatever in the his- toric or antiquarian aspects of Stonehenge: he simply regarded it as typical of the chaos whence all things arose and to which the sec- taries would fain reduce us." — Craik. Gothic is used loosely to mean merely, belonging to a barbarous past. 4i : 23, In winter he went always loose, etc. Morley notes that this is borrowed from Joseph Hall's Mundus Alter et Idejn (1605). In Lib. Ill, cap. ii, Hall describes the manners of Moronia, or Fool's Land. "In midwinter they go with their chests open, and the rest of the body lightly clothed, that the warmth may enter more rapidly, and the cold go out of them ; but in summer they put on thick over- coats and cloaks, and all the clothes they have, to shut out the heat." 45 : 3, ^ strange kind of speech. Refers to the nasality of the dis- senting preachers, and of dissenters generally. '-'• The extreme puri- tan," Macaulay says, "was at once known from other men by his gait, his garb, his lank hair, the sour solemnity of his face, the up- turned white of his eyes, the nasal twang with which he spoke, and above all by his peculiar dialect. He employed, on every occasion, the imagery and style of Scripture." 45 : 5, braying is called a Spanish accomplishment, probably be- cause mules and asses were particularly common in Spain. 45 : 13, dog mad at the noise of 7?iusic. The puritans opposed music not only as one of the fine arts, but as an idolatrous form of worship in the churches. They hated painting (45 : 20) for the same reasons. 45 : 15. The noisiest places are mentioned. Westminster Hall was the centre of the law courts. Billingsgate is still a fishmarket, and the noise and foul language of the fishwives make the word pro- verbial. A boarding school, in Swift's time as at present, usually meant a girls' school. In the Royal Exchange was a noisy market. See 37 : 7, and note. A state coffee-house was one where political discussions went on. 45 : 24, over head and ears into the water. Refers to immersion. 45 : 30, soporiferous medicine. "Fanatic preaching, composed either of hell and damnation, or a fulsome description of the joys of heaven. ' ' — Hawkesworth. NOTES 201 46 t 3, artificial caustics = ascetic practices. 46 : 5, t/ie famous board. No one seems able to explain this allu- sion. 46 : 1 6, made shift to procure a bastings etc. Ridicules the efforts of the dissenters to make themselves appear martyrs to the public good. 48 : I, medicines for the worms. Cf. 17 : 1 6. 48 : 14, nothing but the white. See 45 : 3, note. Craik quotes Hudibras^ III, i, 479: *' While thus the lady talked, the knight Tum'd the outside of his eyes to white (As men of inward light are wont To turn their optics in upon't)." 49 : 5, Desunt nonnulla. See 77 : 13, note. 49 : 14. From Horace, Satires, ii, 3, 71. ''Yet even these bonds the accursed Proteus will escape." 49 : 21, among the artes perditce. The holding of men by their ears — i.e.^ through their credulity and superstition — is no longer possible. 49 : 26, tenure = holding. 49 : 30, loppings and mutilations. Religious offenders often sat in the pillory and had their ears slit or cropped. 50 : 5, The proportion of largeness, etc. The puritans cut their hair close, which made their ears stand out prominently. Hence they were called "prick-eared curs " by the cavaliers. Cf. Spectator^ No. 125. Swift probably means that in Cromwell's time ("while this island of ours was under the dominion of grace ") large ears were regarded among the puritans as ornamental and typical of grace. 50 : 12, a cruel king. "This was King Charles the Second, who, at his restoration, turned out all the dissenting teachers that would not conform. ' '—Scott. 50 : 30, the six senses. There is a note by Swift here, " Including Scaliger's." Craik identifies Swift's reference to Julius Caesar Sca- liger (cf. 84 : 8, and note). See Scaliger's chief philosophical work, Exercitationes de Subtilitate, ad H. Cardanum (286, 3), where the sextus sensus is spoken of. The sexual passion is referred to. 51 : 17, oscitancy = yawning. 51 : 28, Peter got a protection out of the King's Bench, etc. James IL, by his dispensing power, protected the papists from the penal 202 J\rOT£S laws against them. The presbyterians, by the king's invitation, joined the papists against the Church of England, and addressed him for repeal of the penal laws. After the revolution the penal laws were renewed against the papists, but the presbyterians continued to enjoy protection. 52 : 7, he got upon a great horse. *'Sir Humphrey Edwin, a dis- senter, when lord mayor of London in 1697, had the folly to go in his formalities to a conventicle, with the ensigns of his office." — Nichols. 52 : "J^ custard was one of the dishes at the lord mayor's feast. 52: 17. to the ceremonial part of an accomplished writer; that is, to the Conclusion, which follows this section. THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS. The Preface of the Author. This is preceded in the first edition by two paragraphs entitled, ''The Bookseller to the Reader," which were probably not written by Swift. 53 : I. Swift's idea of satire is worth noting. 54 : 3, ci sort of cream. Cf. ''We skim off the cream of other men's wits, pick the choice flowers of their tilled gardens to set out our own sterile plots." — Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy (1893), vol. i, p. 20. 54 : 9, Annual Records of Time. Swift is apparently referring to an ephemeris, or almanac, of the day which contained aphorisms of this kind, "War is the child of pride," etc. There is a note in the first edition: "Riches produceth Pride; Pride is War's Ground, &c. Vid. Ephem. de Mary Clarke; opt. Edit." — to which Hawkesworth adds, "Now called Wing's Sheet Almanack and printed for the com- pany of Stationers." Wing' s Almanack was current all through the eighteenth centurj-. See British Museum Catalogue. 54 : 10-22. The relationship is obscure and cannot be explained satisfactorily. 54 : 16, happens among men to fall out. Note the construction, hardly allowable at present, and not regular even in Swift's time. Sheridan (1785) notes this sentence, among others, as " ungrammat- ical." But to expressions like this and those mentioned in the follow- ing note — all irregular but all perfectly clear — Swift's style owes much of its individuality and idiomatic force. NOTES 203 55 : 2, them does not refer naturally to its antecedent, dogs. Cf. loose use of each in 55 : 21. 55 128, the first ground of disagreement ; i.e., lust and avarice arising from want on the part of the moderns. 56 : 16, especially towards the east. Cf. 85 : 3. The east is per- haps thought of as the natural source of light. But under the alle- gory is probably a reference to the theory advanced by Sir William Temple that all learning came originally from the east. " Science and arts have run their circles, and had their periods in the several parts of the world; they are generally agreed to have held their course from east to west," etc. Works (London, 1770), vol. iii, p. 449. 57 : 7, folly, etc. = folly if they did, and ignorance if they did not, know. 57 : 20, allies = the moderns engaged on the side of the ancients. See 71 : 29. 57 : 28, infinite numbers of these, etc. The which is left hanging and a new construction begun. Swift is constantly taking liberties of this kind. See 54 : 16, note. 58 : 2, gall and copperas are used in making ink. 58 : 10, revived of late, in the art of war. This may possibly refer to the ten years' war closing in 1697 in which neither England nor France could claim the advantage. By the Peace of Ryswick, made while Swift was writing the Battle of the Books ^ France and England mutually restored territory taken in the war. 58 : 21, their representatives. A note in the first edition explains this as "their title pages." The title pages were used as posters. 58 : 30, infor?jz =:to animate or give life to. Cf. ' ' forma informans, " Tale of a Tub, Sec. VIII, and, ''If one soul were so perfect as to inform three distinct bodies, that were a petty trinity." — Sir T. Browne, Religio Medici, i, 12. 59 : I, so7?ie philosophers ajfirfji. Swift has in mind the experi- mental philosophers or ''virtuosos" whom he often satirizes. See 75 : 15, 75 : 20, notes. Sir Thomas Browne and Sir Kenelm Digby were much occupied with experiments in natural philosophy, and among other things with restoring to their original forms plants which had been reduced to ashes. See Browne, Works (Bohn ed.), vol. ii, p. 396. "Schott, Kircher, Gaffarel, Borelli, Digby, and the whole of that admirable school, discovered in the ashes of plants their primitive forms, which were again raised up by the force of 204 NOTES heat. Nothing, they say, perishes in nature; all is but a continua- tion, or a revival. The semina of resurrection are concealed in ex- tinct bodies, as in the blood of man; the ashes of roses will again revive into roses, though smaller and paler than if they had been planted; unsubstantial and unodoriferous, they are not roses which grow on rose-trees, but their delicate apparitions; and, like appa- ritions, they are seen but for a moment." The same theory ac- counts for human apparitions and flickering grave-lights. " Thus the dead naturally revive; and a corpse may give out its shadowy reani- mation, when not too deeply buried in the earth. Bodies corrupted in their graves have risen, particularly the murdered ; for murderers are apt to bury their victims in a slight and hasty manner. Their salts, exhaled in vapor by means of their fermentation, have arranged themselves on the surface of the earth, and form those phantoms, which at night have often terrified the passing spectator, as authentic history witnesses. " Disraeli, Curiosities of Literature (Boston, iSk,S), vol. iv, p. 187. When *^the body is corrupted" and ^^fermentation" is complete, this brutufn hoininis. or elementary essence of man, of course, ''vanishes and dissolves." For Swift's belief in regard to ghosts see Thoughts on Various Subjects, Scott's Works {1824), vol. ix, p. 226. 59 : 14, with strong iron chains. To prevent their being misplaced or stolen, books were sometimes fastened with chains in churches and libraries. 59 : 16, Scotus. Joannes Duns Scotus (1265 ?-i';o8 ?) one of the most famous of the schoolmen. He is supposed to have been pro- fessor of divinity at Oxford and to have removed in 1304 to Paris. See Dictionary of National Biography. Like the other schoolmen he regarded Aristotle as his '* master " and wrote works of commentary on Aristotle. 59 : 20, to seize Plato, etc. This refers to the fundamental conflict between Aristotelianism and Platonism, and to the triumph of the former in the period of Duns Scotus, at which scholasticism reached its height. 59 : 26, polemics = controversial arguments. 60 : 15, on Friday last. Swift gives a definite time for the sake of vividness. 60 : 24, the regal library = the royal library at St. James's, of which Bentley was made '' guardian " in 1694. NOTES 205 60:25, humanity. This word was often applied sarcastically to Bentley by Boyle's party. Boyle, in the preface to his edition of the Letters of Phalaris (1695), had attacked Bentley for demanding the return of a manuscript which Boyle had borrowed from the king's library at St. James's. Boyle's words were: ^ ' Bibliotecarius pro singulari humanitate sua [with his somewhat peculiar ideas of cour- tesy] negavit." Boyle probably meant at first to charge Bentley merely with lack of courtesy, but Bentley's opponents soon began to give the word ''humanitate" a stronger rendering and charge him with lack of humanity. Cf. 68 : 13 ; 84 : 13. 60 : 26, a fierce chauipion for the moderfts. It should be noted that Bentley was really a '' modern " only in a very limited sense. He first entered the controversy only to set Temple right on a point of classical learning; and, being the best classical scholar of his day, he was much better qualified to set up for a champion of the ancients than any of Boyle's party. 60 : 28, two of the ancient chiefs = Phalaris and ^sop. Bentley, in his Dissertation appended to the second edition of Wotton's Re- flections (1697), had shown that the so-called Letters of Phalaris and Fables of ^F, sop were wrongly attributed to Phalaris and ^sop. The Dissertation is reprinted in Dyce's ed. of Bentley, vol. ii. 61 : 7, Having thus failed in his design. This illustrates Swift's readiness in his satire to take an advantage unwarranted by facts. Bentley is represented as having failed owing to the weight of his pedantry when in fact he had triumphantly succeeded because of his superior learning. 61 : 10, 17. Swift is probably echoing charges which were act- ually made against Bentley as librarian. ^\\y:>, Descartes. Rene Descartes (1596-1650), the celebrated French philosopher, whose principal work is entitled Discours de la Methode (Leyden, 1637). This work, which marks the beginning of modern philosophy, overthrew the Aristotelian philosophy which had flourished during the middle ages. Hence the mistake in clapping " Descartes next to Aristotle." 62 : I, Hobbes. Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury (1588-1679), the famous English philosopher, to whom Swift is fond of referring. Cf. 70 : 30, and note on p. 188. His best known work is the Leviathan (165 1). He was a rationalist and niateriaU§t and therefore not a lit companion for Plato. 206 NOTES The Seven Wise Masters was the popular name for a collection of moral tales, resembling the Thousand and One Nights but of ancient Indian origin ; called in the West the Book of the Seven Sages and in the East the Book of Sindibdd, The earliest mention of the latter is in Arabian writers of the tenth century, but it is probably much more ancient. Swift seems to make a mistake, therefore, in including the ^' Seven Wise Masters" among the moderns. See Comparetti, Re- searches respecting the Book of Sindibdd^ Publications of the Folk- I^ore Society, IX. 62 : 3, Wither. "Withers" is the spelling in the first edition, fol- lowed in all the others. The same spelling is used by Swift in 70 : 27; by Dry den. Essay of Dramatic Poesy; by Butler, Htidibras, I, i, 646; by Pope, Dtinciad, i, 296. The name, like many others, was spelled indifferently with or without the s. See Beljame, La prononciation du nom de yean Law, p. 16. George Wither (1588 1667) was generally underestimated in Swift's time, partly because of his puritanism. In coupling him with Dry den (cf. 70 : 27) Swift intends a fling at the latter, who had shortly before blasted Swift's own poetical hopes with his famous, '^Cousin Swift, you will never be a poet." Wither came into popularity again at the beginning of the present century. See, for example. Lamb's essay, *<0n the Poetical Works of George Wither." 62 : 12, light horse, etc. See notes on 70 : 25 and 71 : 12. 62 : 16, trading among the ancients. By copying ancient writers. 62 : 30, the moderns zvere much the more ancient of the two. Fol- lowed in the first edition by a note, "According to the modern paradox." Cf. Bacon, Advance7nent of Learning, Bk. I. "And to speak truly, Antiquitas scbcuH juventus viundi. These times are the ancient times, when the world is ancient, and not those which we account ancient ordine retrogrado, by a computation backward from ourselves." Spedding, in a note on the same passage in the De 'Augmentis (Bacon's Works, Boston, 1863, vol. ii, p. 136) shows that Bacon was not the first to advance the "paradox " and even, that the paradox is not "modern." Swift probably got the idea from Hobbes since the following passage, which precedes the Battle of the Books in Nichols's edition, William Pate is said (Nichols's ed., New York, 1812, vol. iii, pp. 2, 200) to have had "from the Dean's own mouth." "Though I reverence those men of ancient time, that either have written truth perspicuously or set us in any better wa^ to find it Qut NOTES 207 ourselves ; yet to the antiquity itself I think nothing due. For if we will reverence the age, the present is the oldest." Leviathan^ (Molesworth's ed., vol. iii, p. 712). 63:19, those advocates, who had begun the quarrel. The quarrel began in France with Perrault and Fontenelle. It was introduced into England by Temple. See 78 : 25, note. 64 : 29, Beelzebub. From a mistaken derivation Beelzebub was supposed to be the fly-god of the Philistines ; primarily the protector of flies, as here ; when propitiated the averter of flies, similar to the Zeu5 dnojiivio'^,. 65 : 18, Good words, friend, etc. The suavity and moderation of the bee who represents the ancients is contrasted with the virulence of the spider who is a modern. 66 : 16, drone-pipe. The bass pipe of a bagpipe which emits one continuous bass note. 66 : 22. Sir William Temple in his Essay upon Ancient and Mod- ern Learning had urged the superiority of the ancients in architec- ture, mathematics, and fortification. William Wotton in his Reflec- tions had tried to show the superiority of the moderns in mathematics. As in other places, Swift is supporting his patron. Temple. Cf. 64 : 9 ; 67 : 14; 69 : 13. 66 : 30. The closeness and clearness with which in this paragraph the fable applies to the real controversy should be noticed. The bee states the case for the ancients eloquently. 67 : 24-29. These lines, given as in the first edition, do not make sense as they stand. Scott, by omitting the second which, probably gives Swift's meaning. 68 : 13, regent's humanity. Cf. 60 : 25, note. 68 : 13, had tore off the title-page, etc. See 60 : 28, note. 70 : II, sweetness and light. The original of the expression used so effectively by Matthew Arnold. See Ctdture and Anarchy, chap. i. 70 : 25, the horse. In the following enumeration the horse are the epic poets; the light horse are the poets of other kinds ; the bowmen are the philosophers ; the dragoons are the medical writers ; the heavy-armed foot are the historians; the engineers are the mathe- maticians. 70 : 26, Tasso. Torquato Tasso (1544-1595), whose principal work w^l-s the epic Gerusalemme Liberata, T^§so seems to hav^ been 2o8 NOTES the first of the moderns to attempt a heroic poem following the great classical models. 70 : 27, Dryden and Wither, See 62 : 3, note. 70 : 28, Cowley. See 81 : 11, note. 70 : 28, Despreaux. Nicolas Boileaii-Despreaux (1636-1711). Perrault in his ParalVeles des anciens et des modernes had, among other names, mentioned Boileau as superior to Horace. Boileau himself had been the first to disavow this claim made on his behalf and to , oppose the contentions made for the moderns, replying to Perrault in his Reflexions critiques sur Longin (1693). See 147 : 5, note. Boileau, therefore, had every right to a place among the ^< allies" of the ancients. This Swift knew very well but he was probably more anxious to reenforce Temple than to be fair or accu- rate in his satire. Boileau is one of those mentioned by Temple in his Essay upon Ancient and Modern Learning to show the inferiority of the moderns. Several others in this paragraph {^e.g, Harvey, Davila, Wilkins) were probably suggested to Swift by Temple's Essay. 70 : 29, Descartes^ Gassendi, and Hobbes were among the foremost names in philosophy in Swift's day. See notes on 61 : 30 and 62 : I. Pierre Gassendi (1592-1655), a French writer on physical science and metaphysics, was almost exactly contemporaneous with Descartes and, like Descartes, opposed the Aristotelian philosophy. His repu- tation seems to have lost more since Swift's time than that of either of the others. 71 : 2, like that of Evander. Swift probably means, and should have written, Acestes, the flight of whose shaft is described in jEneid^ v, 525 ff. 71 : 3, Paracelsus^ a Swiss (1493-1541), is made leader of the chemists (''stink-pot flingers"). Rhaetia was the name of a Roman province corresponding to the Tyrol. 71 : 6, Harvey^ their great aga. William Harvey (1578-1657) dis- covered the circulation of the blood. Temple's Essay ^ however, had doubted the modernness of this discovery. Aga^ a Turkish word =r commander or chief officer. 71 : 10, white powder. The experimental philosophers apparently tried their hands at noiseless gunpowder. "Of white powder, and such as is discharged without report there is no small noise in the world," etc. — Sir Thomas Browne, Pseudodoxia Epidemica^ Bk. H, NOTES 209 chap. V. § 5. Here of course there is a punning reference to the deadly powders of physicians. 71 : 12, mercenaries. What Swift means by this word, used also in 62 : 12 and 80 : 14, is not entirely clear. Perhaps here he means that, like mercenaries, these historical writers have little interest in the conflict and will do little to decide it either way. 71 : 13, Guicciardini^ etc. Guicciardini (1482- 15 40) was an Italian historian whose chief work, Storia d' Italia^ was published in 15 61- 64. Davila (1576-163 1), another Italian historian, wrote Storia delle guerre civili di Francia (1630). He is compared in Temple's Essay with Herodotus and Livy. Polydore Virgil (1470 ?-i555) was born in Italy, but in 1501 was sent by the Pope to England, where he held several important positions in the church. His Historia Anglica ap- peared in 1534. Buchanan (1506-1582), one of the most famous of Scotch scholars, was made preceptor of James VI. (James I. of England) in 1570, and to him James owed his scholarly tendencies. He wrote two works on the history of Scotland. Mariana (15 36-1623), a Spaniard, wrote a history of Spain, published 1592-1605. William Camden (1551-1623) is best known for his Britannia^ a historical and antiquarian survey of the British Isles, originally written in Latin (1586) but often translated. The first translation (1610) by Holland is supposed to have been made with Camden's approval and help. 71 : 15, Regiomontanus, Johann Miiller (1436-1476), a German astronomer and mathematician, is commonly referred to under this Latin name, derived from Konigsberg, his birthplace. 71 : 16, Wilkins. John Wilkins (1614-1672), Bishop of Chester, was one of the founders of the Royal Society (see 75 : 15, note) and represents well both the. merits and the eccentricities of the science of the ''moderns," the value of which was so much in controversy. His Discourse concerning a new Planet : tending to prove it is probable our earth is one of the Planets^ was a valuable argument in favor of the Copernican system and did much to spread a belief in the new system in England. Another LHscourse^ aiming to show the possibil- ity of a passage to the moon, is clearly marked by the unsoundness and extravagance characteristic of seventeenth century science. 71 : 17, Scotus, Aquinas y and Bellarmine. For Scotus see 59: 16, note. Thomas Aquinas (1225 or 1 227-1274), an Italian, was also a scholastic philosopher. Bellarmine (1542-1621) was a noted Italian cardinal, and a Jesuit writer on theology and philosophy. The three 210 NOTES names are apparently chosen by Swift as representative of the eccle- siastical and scholastic philosophy, just as Descartes, Gassendi, and Hobbes (70 : 29) represent the newer philosophy of the seventeenth century. 71 : 20, calones = soldiers* servants. Here they are the pam- phleteers. 71:21, L Estrange. Sir Roger L'Estrange (1616-1704), a jour- nalist and pamphleteer, served Charles I. in his wars with Parliament and wrote innumerable pamphlets in the royalist cause. As a tory he is naturally selected by Swift for ridicule. Dr. Johnson {^Literary Magazine^ 175^, p. 197) speaks of him as the first writer who wrote regularly in the service of a party for pay, just as Swift accuses him of following ''the camp for nothing but the plunder.*' 71 : 28, Hippocrates^ the famous Greek physician (of the fifth cen- tury B.C.) is mentioned often in Temple*s Essay, 71:29, Vosshis. Gerard Voss (1577-1 649) was a Dutch classical scholar, a professor at Dort, Leyden and Amsterdam. He wrote a large number of works on classical subjects, and hence is ranged with Temple among the allies. 72 : 12, MomuSy a Greek god, according to Hesiod ( Theogony^ 1. 214) the son of Night, personifying mockery and censure. In Lu- cian {Her^notimus y 20) Momus blames Vulcan for not leaving in the breast of the man whom he had made openings through which his innermost thoughts might be seen. Momus is a fit spokesman for the moderns, because he is child of darkness and natural opponent of Pallas Athena, goddess of wisdom and light. 72 :3i, by a light chain^ etc. Homer i^Iliad^ viii, 19) fastens the gods and the earth to Jupiter by a chain. Cf. also Paradise Lost^ ii, 1004. 73 : 18, Nova Zemhla. Swift probably thought of Nova Zembla merely as a place of polar cold and darkness, removed as far as the map would allow from the brightness and warmth of Greece. 73:21, Ignorance. Cf. the relationship given to the True Critic in the Tale of a Tub^ Section III. 73 : 28, The goddess herself had claws like a cat^ etc. This pas- sage recalls some of the terrible descriptions in Gulliver's Travels. But this kind of writing is much more rare in the early than in the later prose of Swift. NOTES 211 74: 19 ff. Cf. the '* Digression concerning Critics," Tale of a Tub^ Section III. 75: 15, Gresham and Covent Garden. At Gresham College were held the meetings of the Royal Society, organized in 1660 for the advancement of experimental philosophy. Here again Swift fol- lows Temple. Temple's second Essay upon Ancient and Modern Learnings which Swift afterwards edited (1701), says: *'The next to set up for the excellency of the new learning above the old were some of Gresham College, after the institution of that society by King Charles II. These began early to debate and pursue this pretence." Will's Coffee-house in Russell Street, Covent Garden, was in Swift's time a favorite resort of wits and poets, among others of Dryden. i ' Swift is fond of ridiculing both the scientists and the wits. In the Tale of a Tub^ Sections I and X, Gresham and Will's are coupled again. Cf. also 3:8, and "59:1, notes. See Ashton, Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne^ chaps. 18 and 28, for an account of the Coffee-houses and the Royal Society. 75 : 20, virtuosos = experimental philosophers. The word is com- mon in the sense of one skilled in curiosities of art or antiquity. In Swift's time it was used also to mean one skilled in natural curiosities •and in natural science generally. Cf. Addison, Spectator, No. 275 : **I was yesterday engaged in an assembly of virtuosos, where one of them produced many curious observations which he had lately made ' in the anatomy of the human body." Also Tatler, No. 216. 76 : 30. One who reads the Battle of the Books aloud will notice that much of the remainder of the piece is metrical and that parts of it fall almost regularly into blank verse. See K. Feyerabend, Beispiel einer Satura Menippea bei Swift, in Englische Studien, xi, 487-491. 77 : 8, Galen (born about 130 A.D.), the celebrated Greek physician, was the most authoritative medical writer among the ancients. 77 : 13, Hie pauca desunt. The many gaps in the text following ^are probably merely humorous imitations of the gaps found in clas- sical manuscripts. It has been suggested that Swift did not feel com petent to discuss the medical writers (to whom the supposed omitted matter here would refer) ; but he would hardly have hesitated to put them into his satire from a fear of being unfair or inaccurate. See notes on 60:26 and 70:28. The "wounded aga '' is probably Harvey. 77 : 22, which missed the valiant modern, etc. This is perhaps 212 NOTES \ Swift's way of showing his respect for Bacon. Scott says: "The Ij author, in naming Bacon, does a piece of justice to modern philos- I ophy which Temple had omitted. ' I know of no new philosophers j that have made entries on that noble stage for fifteen hundred years past unless Descartes and Hobbes should pretend to it ; of whom I shall make no critique here, but only say, that, by what appears of i learned men's opinions in this age, they have by no means eclipsed i the lustre of Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, or others of the ancients.' — Essay on Ancient and Modern Learning. — Neither Swift nor Temple mentions the discoveries of Newton, though the Principia were pub- lished in 1657." Swift mentions Bacon in other writings— always; with respect. . 77 : 25, it pierced the leather and the pasteboard. Descartes is re- garded merely as a book. The Bookseljer's Preface to the Battle of the Books warns the reader ^ ' to beware of applying to persons what, is here meant only of books, in the most literal sense." ' 77 : 29, his own vortex, Descartes attempted to account for the formation of the universe by a theory of vortices, which were masses of subtile particles revolving rapidly about an axis. Cf. Tale of a^ Tub, Sec. IX: "Cartesius reckoned to see, before he died, the senti-' ments of all philosophers, like so many lesser stars in his romantic; system, rapt and drawn within his own vortex." i 77 : 30. The first part of the description of the battle of the horse is supposed to be omitted. { 78 : 7, Gondibert is an unfinished poem (of two books and a half by Sir William D'Avenant (1606-1668), written about 1650. Most of D'Avenant's work was dramatic and Go7idibert was to have hacl the plan of a play, '< proportioning five books to five acts, and canton I to scenes." In describing Gondibert as '^mounted on a staid, sobei gelding " Swift probably has in mind the meter, the choice of whicl, D'Avenant explains in a Preface, addressed to Thomas Hobbes. "'1 believed it would be more pleasant to the reader in a work of length' to give respite or pause between every stanza . . . than to run hinj out of breath with continued couplets. Nor doth alternate rime bi any lowliness of cadence make the sound less heroic, but rather adapl it to a plain and stately composing of music." Another reason for thr' meter and the division into cantos is the hope that "it might (lik<^ the works of Homer ere they were joined together and made a voll ume by the Athenian kings) be sung at village feasts," The Prefacl NOTES 213 Degins with a criticism of Homer and other epic poets, — whose faults D'Avenant hopes to avoid. 78 : 12, till he had spoiled. There is a note here in the first edi- ;ion, <'Vid. Homer." 78 : 17, Denham. Sir John Denham (1615-1669) is best known by lis Cooper's Hill, a poem descriptive of natural scenery and one of :he earliest poems of a purely descriptive kind. It was imitated by Pope in Windsor Forest. The famous apostrophe to the Thames in Cooper' s Hill, ** O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme ! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full," bmid so many imitators that Swift writes in Apollo's Edict : " Nor let my votaries show their skill In aping lines from Cooper's Hill ; For know I cannot bear to hear The mimicry of * deep yet clear.' " 78 : 23, Wesley. Samuel Wesley (1662- 1735), a mediocre poet, )est known as the father of John and Charles Wesley, the founders of \Iethodism. 78 : 24, Perrault. Charles Perrault (1628-1703) is remembered as he collector of a book of fairy-tales, Les Contes de ma mere Foye, vhich includes such stories as ^'Cinderella*' and <' Little Red Riding nEood." He was the leading figure in the quarrel between the mcients and moderns in France. In 1687 he read before the Aca- l^mie a poem, Le Siecle de Louis le Grand, which was the first num- )er in the controversy. In 1688- 1697 he published four volumes of Paralleles des anciens et des modernes. He is noticed by Temple in lis second Essay and by Wotton in his Re/lections, and is altogether 00 important to be passed over by Swift. 78 : 25, Fontenelle, Bernard le Bovier de Fontenelle (1657-1757), mother supporter of the moderns in France, published (1688) his Digression sur les anciens et les modernes. A work of Fontenelle — apparently this Digression — first attracted Temple's attention to the rontroversy and led to its introduction into England. See Temple, Works (1770), vol. iii, p. 431. 79 : 18, the lady in a lobster — ''the triturating apparatus in the itomach of a lobster; — so called from a fancied resemblance to a eated female figure." — Webster's Dictionary. 214 NOTES 79 : 22, Dry den, in a long harangue, etc. Swift refers to the long Dedication of Dryden's Mneid. See, for a passage which Swift may have had particularly in mind, in which Dryden <' soothed up the good ancient; called him father," etc., Scott and Saintsbury's Works, vol. xiv, p. 214. This reference helps to fix the date of the compo- sition of the Battle of the Books. 79 : 29, his was of gold and cost a hundred beeves. There is a note here in the first edition, ^' Vid. Homer." The reference is to Iliad, vi, 234. 80 : 13, Blackmore, Sir Richard Blackmore (d. 1729), a physician and a writer of much worthless verse and prose, is treated mildly by Swift, perhaps because he was a good whig. Dryden's attacks on Blackmore in the preface to the Fables and the prologue to the Pil- grim (1700) may also have come in time to influence Swift. Later, after Swift became a tory, he showed Blackmore little mercy. See Works (Scott's 1824 ed.), vol. xii, p. 140. 80 : 17, ^sculapius, the god of medicine, because Blackmore was a physician. 80 : 29, Creech. Thomas Creech (1659-1700) was a translator from the classics. Of his translations the best known was that of Lucretius, which was often reprinted in the eighteenth century. It was commended by Dryden. Swift refers here to his translation of Horace which was dedicated to Dryden. i 81 : 4, Ogilby. John Ogilby (1600-1676) was another voluminous translator of the generation preceding Creech's — and so called Creech's "father." His translation of Virgil was published in 1649 ; his Iliad \\\ 1660 ; his Odyssey in 1665. According to Spence's Anecdotes Pope first read Homer in Ogilby 's translation. " Ogilby 's Virgil" is the first book in the lady's library of Spectator No. 37. 81 : 6, Oldham. John Oldham (165 3- 1683) wrote numerous Pin- daric odes. See 81 : 11, note. 81:7, ^f'^o, the Amazon. Afra Behn (1640-1689) is best known for her novels and plays, but she is mentioned here with the light horse because she was also the author of verse, some of it in the Pindaric style. 81 : II, Cowley, Abraham Cowdey (1618-1667) published, 1656, *' Pindariquc Odes written in imitation of the stile and manner of the Odes of Pindar." These odes were mistaken in conception, for <'the numbers are various and irregular" and lawlessness of meter ; NOTES 215 is not a characteristic of Pindar ; but among Cowley's followers imitation of Pindar became popular, and Dr. Johnson says, ** all the boys and girls caught the pleasing fancy and they who could do nothing else could write like Pindar." Swift's first poetry, which included an Ode in honor of Sir William Temple, was in the Pindaric style. In saying that Cowley avoided death by opposing *' the shield that had been given him by Venus" Swift perhaps refers to the Mistress^ a collection of about a hundred love poems, published by Cowley in 1647. But in this case Swift is at variance with later critics, who, from Dryden down, have preferred the Pindarics to the love poems. Dr. Johnson's Life, which contains the well-known pages on the " metaphysical poets," is the best criticism of Cowley. 82 : 22. This paragraph in the first edition has a marginal note, '*The Episode of Bentley and Wotton." The episode includes the rest of the book. 82:31, Etesian wind. The Etesian winds blow in the Mediter- ranean region from the Northwest for about forty days in summer. 83 : 4, copperas^ etc. See 58 : 2, note. 84 : I, presimiptuons dogs, etc. This in the first edition has a note, <* Vid. Homer, de Thersite." See Iliads ii, 212. 84:8, Scaliger, Joseph Scaliger (1540-1609) was attacked in Boyle's reply to Bentley's first Dissertation (p. 225). Bentley in his second Dissertation spoke of this attack as unbecoming and defended Scaliger (JVor^s, Dyce's ed., vol. i, p. Ixiv). It is therefore prob- able that Swift here refers to Joseph Scaliger rather than to his father, Julius Caesar Scaliger, who is equally well known. Both figure in the Ta/e of a Tub, See 50 : 30, note. 85 : I, Aldrovandus's tomb. The work of Aldrovandi (1522-1607), the Bolognese naturalist, was recorded in thirteen large, elaborately illustrated volumes. Swift goes back to the idea that libraries are cemeteries (69 :i) and represents the spot where these thirteen volumes rested as Aldrovandus's tomb. Aldrovandi is mentioned in Wotton' s Reflections. 85 : 30, Phalaris and yEsop, See note on 60 : 28. 86 : 9, got him roaring in his bull. The tyrant Phalaris, the sup- posed author of the Letters^ is said to have constructed a brazen bull in which his victims were shut up, and, by means of a fire kindled underneath, roasted alive This story figured in the Bentley-Boyle controversy. Bentley's Dissertation says : ** At the end of his book 2l6 NOTES lie [Boyle] has got me into Phalaris's Bull, and he has the pleasure j of fancying he hears me begin to bellow (p. 290). Well; since it's certain then that I am in the Bull, I have performed the part of the 1 sufferer. For as the cries of the tormented in old Phalaris's Bull, [ being conveyed through pipes lodged in the machine, were turned ^ into music for the entertainment ot the tyrant; so the complaints which my torments express from me, being conveyed to Mr. B. by this answer, are all dedicated to his pleasure and diversion. And yet, methinks, when he was setting up to be Phalaris Junior, the very omen of it might have deterred him. For, as the old tyrant himself at last bellowed in his own bull; so his imitators ought to consider, that at long run their own actions may chance to overtake them." Works, Dyce's ed., vol. i, p. xxvi. 88 : 7, put on the shape of . Refers perhaps to Francis Atter- bury, who wrote most of Boyle's reply to Bentley, but whose name was suppressed. 88 : 12, given him by all the gods. Boyle had the assistance, not only of Atterbury, but of several other friends at Christ Church, Ox- ford. 89 : I, ivith his own hands new polished and gilded. Refers to Boyle's edition of the Letters of Phalaris (1695). ARGUMENT AGAINST ABOLISHING CHRISTIANITY. 91 : 5, forbidden upon several penalties. Some measure like this may actually have been passed by the English Parliament which used every means to promote the Union. But Swift is probably ex- aggerating and writing ironically. He hated the Scotch and, though the Union was a whig measure, was strongly opposed to it. See his verses On the Unio7t, Scott's 1824 ed., vol. xiv, p. 72. 91 : II, majority of opinion the voice of God. The proverbial ex- pression of course is, vox populi vox Dei. Swift is still ironical. 91 : 16. We should probably say : '< as we cannot but allow they are from their actions," etc. 93 : I, opinions like fashions, etc. The interjection of pithy sen- tences of this kind is characteristic of Swift. 93 : 5, mistaken = misapprehended. 93 : 9. We should say, '< so weak as to stand up." NOTES 217 93 : 21, proposal of Horace. " In the 1 6th Epode Horace puts into poetical form the aspiration in which Sertorius, according to Plutarch, actually indulged, to sail to the Blessed Isles in order to escape from tyranny and endless wars." — Craik. 94 : 10, / shall briefly consider^ etc. For ironical effect Swift lays out his ground in formally argumentative style. 95 : 2, broke z= cashiered; deprived of their commissions. Cf. 95 : 22. 95 : 14, deorum offensa diis curcB. Swift has in mind Tacitus, Annals^ Book I, chap. 73 : Deorum injurias diis curce; '^ Wrongs done to the gods are the gods' concern." This was an old maxim of the Roman law, under which offenses against the gods, like perjury, were not punished. 95 : 27, the allies refers to Holland, Prussia, and other allies of England in the War of the Spanish Succession. 96: 18, Asgill, John Asgill (1659-1738), a rather eccentric and unscrupulous person, who, for his Argument to prove that death is fwt obligatory on Christians (1700), was expelled from the Irish Parliament, and later (17 12) from the English Parliament. The burning of this book by order of the House of Commons in 1707 was perhaps what called Swift's attention to him. See Craik's note and interesting references in the Dictionary of National Biography. Tindal. Matthew Tindal (1656-1733) styled himself a '' Christian deist." He wrote various pamphlets against the high church party, and in 1706 a book, The Rights of the Christian Church asserted against the Romish and all other Priests who claim an Independent Power over it, etc., which called out many replies from high church- men. Swift wrote Remarks on it in 1 708, which for some reason remained unpublished. This book was burnt by order of the House of Commons, curiously enough with Sacheyerell's sermon, March 25, 17 10. Poland. John Toland (1670-1722), another deist, who aroused much controversy by publishing (1696) his Christianity not Mys- terious, beginning ''the warfare between deists and the orthodox which occupied the next generation." This book, too, was burnt and the author prosecuted. Coward. William Coward (1657? -1725) published a number 'of works to show that there is no such thing as a separate soul, the first and most important being Second Thoughts concerning Human 2l8 NOTES Soul, etc. These books were ordered to be burnt by the House of Commons, 1704. 96 : 28, Ef?ipson and Dudley. Sir Richard Empson and Edmund Dudley were employed by Henry VH. in collecting taxes and feudal dues, and became objects of general hatred for their extortions. Such an outcry was raised against them at the accession of Henry VIII. that he was forced to commit them to the Tower. They were attainted and beheaded, 15 10. 98 : 3. regulations of Henry the Eight h, which deprived the Church of its revenues. 98 : 17, a hard word. Ironical of course. The reader expects something less harmless than cavil. 98 : 26, ga?ne at home. At the coffee-houses card-playing and dicing were prohibited and no wager might be made exceeding five shillings. The chocolate-houses, on the other hand, were virtually gambling-houses, and perhaps for that reason were closed on Sunday. See Ashton, Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne, chap, xviii. 100 : 5, hey dukes (spelled variously in English — from the Hungarian hajduk) were mercenary Magyar foot-soldiers who served in Hungary and were given hereditary privileges for their gallantry. The Mamalukes were a corps of Turkish cavalry who in the thirteenth century became masters of Egypt. Mandarins = Chinese officials of any one of the nine recognized grades. Patshaws (commonly spelled /flj-^d! J ) are the higher officials in Turkey. 100 : 12, the Monu7nent was a column designed by Wren, and erected in 1671-77, near London Bridge, to commemorate the great fire of 1666. An inscription on it attributes the fire to the papists, and the Monument was therefore a source of contention. Pope's only expression on religious matters is, according to Dr. Johnson, his reference to this inscription in the Epistle to Lord Bathurst, 11. 339-340: " Where London's column, pointing at the skies, Like a tall bully, lifts the head, and lies." 100 : 16, Margarita. Italian opera became popular in London at the beginning of the eighteenth century. The Daily Courant for Jan. 16, 1705, announces a performance at the Theatre Royal, 1 Drury Lane, of **Arsinoe '*— apparently the first opera given in England. The singers were all English, but *«^), though in 1743, in a later edition, ^'Tibbald" was ^'dethroned " and Colley Gibber put in his place. 181 : 28, our most illustrious laureate. Colley Cibber (1671-1757), the famous actor and dramatist, obtained the laureateship (for which Theobald was also a candidate) in 1730. The reasons for Pope's hostility to him and for his substitution in the Dunciad are obscure; see Dictionary of National Biography. But here again (as in 178: 9) Swift seems to be working on an understanding with Pope. Swift is reported to have said that Cibber 's Apology^ published 1740, capti- vated him, and that he sat up all night to read it through. 184 : II, Isaac Newton (1642-1727), through his friendship with Charles Montague, was made warden of the mint in 1695 and master of the mint in 1697. Li 1705 Queen Anne visited Cambridge and made him a knight. His sun-dials seem to have been well known. ' ' One of these dials, which went by the name of Isaac^s dial, and was often referred to by the country people for the hour of the day, appears to have been drawn solely from the observations of several years." — Brewster, Life of Newton (1875), p. 8. 184 : 27, those of Sir Isaac. The grammar is shaky. As Saints, bury says, "this, like other things in this introduction, is clearly writ in character, the character of the more polite than pedantic Wag- staff." 184 131, many imperial diadems. Refers to crowns worn by Cib- ber as an actor. For a list of Cibber's plays and parts see Dictionary of National Biography, NOTES 229 186 : 2^ for^ned into a comedy, "The proposal here stated in jest actually took place; for Faulkner informs us, that the Treatise on Polite Conversation being universally admired at Dublin, was exhib- ited at the theatre in Angier Street as a dramatic performance, and received great applause." — Scott. Englisb IReaMngs for Stu&ents. English masterpieces in editions at once competently edited and inexpensive. The aim will be to fill vacancies now existing because of subject^ treatment ^ or price. Prices given below are NET, postage eight per cent, additional, idmo. Cloth. Arnold (Matthew): Prose Selections. Edited by Lewis E. Gates, Asst. Professor in Harvard, xci -f 348 pp. 90c. Includes The Function of Criticism, First Lecture on Trans- lating Homer, Literature and Science, Culture and Anarchy, Sweetness and Light, Compulsory Education, ** Life a Dream," Emerson, and twelve shorter selections, including America. Bliss Perry, Pro/essor in Princeton :—'" Tht selections seem to me most happy, and the introduction is even better if possible than his introduction to the Newman volume. Indeed I have read no criticism of ArnoWs prose which appears to me as luminous and just, and expressed with such literary charm." Browning: Selected Lyrical and Dramatic Poems. With the essay on Browning from E. C. Stedman's *' Victorian Poets." Edited by Edward T. Mason. 275 pp. 60c. Burke : Selections. Edited by Bliss Perry, Professor in Princeton, xxvi -f- 298 pp. 6oc.. Contents. 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The selections lead the reader through some of the more picturesque and concrete passages of Newman's prose, to his impeachment of the liberal and irreligious tendencies of the age, his insistence on the powerlessness of science to make men moral, his defense of super- naturalism, his ridicule of English prejudice against Catholics, his statement of the Catholic position, and finally to two powerful imaginative pictures of supernatural interferences in the natural world-order. Tennyson: The Princess. Edited by L. A. Sherman, Profes«)r in the University of Nebraska. [In Reparation. 1 Postage 8 per cent, additionaL HENRY HOLT & CO., 29 W. 23d St., New York. English 'fadings for Students. Specimens of prose Composftfoiu idmo. Cloth, Per volume^ 5o^., net. Prose Narration* Edited by William T. Brewster, Tutor in Columbia College, xxzviil 4-209 pp. Includes Selections from Scott, Thackeray, Hawthorne, Jane Austen, George Eliot, Stevenson, and Henry James. Part I. 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Some 250 complete poems, besides selections from such long poems as "The Faerie Queene," " Childe Harold's Pilgrim- age," etc. There are 19 pages of Ballads, 33 of Spenser, 22 of Elizabethan Songs and Lyrics, 16 of Elizabethan Sonnets, 51 of Seven- teenth Century Songs, 51 of verse from Dryden to Thomson, 277 of verse from Thomson to Tennyson, and icx> of Victorian verse, 164 of Notes (chiefly biographical and appreciative), and an index of titles. New York Tribune : ** We believe it will be received cordially by all lovers of poetry, whether elementary students or not. Basing his selections on the individual excellence and historic importance of the poems, the editor has not allowed his fidelity to the latter test to overrule his taste, and there is very little matter in the book which is historically significant alone. First and last, this is an anthology of the best poetry." Prof. Henry A. 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