Since every beast alive can tell
That I sincerely wish you well,
I may, without offence, pretend
To take the freedom of a friend.

To leave you thus might seem unkind;
But see, the Goat is just behind.
The Goat remarked her pulse was high,
Her languid head, her heavy eye;
My back, says he, may do you harm,
The Sheep's at hand, and wool is warm.
The Sheep was feeble, and complained
His sides a load of wool sustained:
Said he was slow, confessed his fears,
For hounds eat sheep as well as hares.
She now the trotting Calf addressed,
To save from death a friend distressed.
Shall I, says he, of tender age,
In this important care engage?
Older and abler passed you by;

How strong are those, how weak am I!
Should I presume to bear you hence,
Those friends of mine may take offence.
Excuse me, then. You know my heart;
But dearest friends, alas! must part.
How shall we all lament! Adieu!
For, see, the hounds are just in view!

SWIFT.

From THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS.

The quarrel first began (as I have heard it affirmed by an old dweller in the neighborhood) about a small plot 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 the Ancients; and the other was held by the Moderns. But these, disliking their present station, sent certain ambassadors to the Ancients complaining of a great nuisance-how the height of that Parnassus quite spoiled the prospect of theirs, 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 summit, which the Moderns would graciously surrender to them, and advance in their

...

place; or else that the Ancients would 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 that they would advise the Moderns rather to raise their own side of the hill than dream of pulling down that of the Ancients. . . . And so this difference broke out into a long and obstinate war. In this quarrel whole rivulets of ink have been exhausted. . . . Now it must be understood that ink is the great missile 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 either side. This malignant liquor was compounded by the engineer, who invented it, of two ingredients, gall and copperas, by its bitterness and venom to suit in some degree, as well as to foment, the genius of the combatants. . . . The terrible fight took place on Friday last, between the Ancient and Modern books in the King's library.

Now the Moderns had not proceeded with secrecy enough to escape the notice of the enemy. For those advocates who had begun the quarrel, by setting first on foot the dispute 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, determined to act upon the defensive. Upon which several of the Moderns fled over to their party, and among them Temple himself. This Temple, having been educated and long conversed among the Ancients, was, of all the Moderns, their greatest favorite and became their greatest champion.

It is wonderful to conceive the tumult arisen among the books, upon the close of this long descant of Æsop; both parties took the hint and resolved it should come to a battle. The Moderns were in warm debate upon the choice of their leaders. The difference was greatest among the horse, where every private trooper pretended to the chief command, from Tasso and Milton to Dryden and Withers. The light-horse were commanded by Cowley and Despreaux (Boileau).

The army of the Ancients were much fewer in 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 rear.

Day being far spent, and the numerous forces of the Moderns half

inclining to a retreat, there issued forth from a squadron of their heavyarmed foot a captain, whose name was B-ntl-y; in person the most deformed of all the Moderns. The generals made use of him for his talent of railing. As he came near, behold two heroes of the Ancients' army, Phalaris and Æsop, lay fast asleep. B-ntl-y would fain have dispatched them both, and stealing close aimed his flail at Phalaris's heart. . . . Boyle observed him well, and soon discovering the helmet and shield of Phalaris, his friend, both which he had lately with his own hands new polished and gilded, he furiously rushed on against this new approacher.

I am always very well pleased with a country Sunday, and think, if keeping holy the seventh day were only a human institution, it would be the best method that could have been thought of for the polishing and civilizing of mankind. It is certain the country people would soon degenerate into a kind of savages and barbarians, were there not such frequent returns of a stated time in which the whole village meet together with their best faces, and in their cleanliest habits, to converse with one another upon different subjects, hear their duties explained to them, and join together in adoration of the Supreme Being. Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week, not only as it refreshes in their minds the notions of religion, but as it puts both the sexes upon appearing in their most agreeable forms, and exerting all such qualities as are apt to give them a figure in the eye of the village. A country fellow distinguishes himself as much in the churchyard as a citizen does upon the 'Change, the whole parish politics being generally discussed in that place either after sermon or before the bell rings.

My friend Sir Roger, being a good churchman, has beautified the inside of his church with several texts of his own choosing. He has likewise given a handsome pulpit-cloth, and railed in the communiontable at his own expense. He has often told me, that at his coming to his estate he found his parishioners very irregular, and that, in order to make them kneel and join in the responses, he gave every one of them a hassock and a common-prayer book, and, at the same time, employed an itinerant singing-master, who goes about the country for that pur

*The papers relating to Sir Roger de Coverly are-No. 2 is his Character, by Steele -No. 106, Visit to his Country Seat, by Addison-No. 107, his Conduct to his Servants, by Steele-No. 109, his Ancestors, by Steele-No. 112, his Behavior at Church, by Addison--No. 113, his Disappointment in Love, by Steele-No. 116, A Hunting Scene with Sir Roger, by Budgell-No. 118, Sir Roger's Reflections on the Widow, by Steele-and Nos. 122, 130, 269, 271, 329, 335, 383, and 517 containing an account of his death, all by Addison.

pose, to instruct them rightly in the tunes of the Psalms; upon which they now very much value themselves, and indeed outdo most of the country churches that I have ever heard.

As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself; for if by chance he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees anybody else nodding, either wakes them himself or sends his servants to them. Several other of the old knight's particularities break out upon these occasions. Sometimes he will be lengthening out a verse in the singing Psalms, half a minute after the rest of the congregation have done with it; sometimes, when he is pleased with the matter of his devotion, he pronounces amen three or four times to the same prayer; and sometimes stands up, when everybody else is upon their knees, to count the congregation, or see if any of his tenants are missing.

I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old friend, in the midst of the service, calling out to one John Matthews to mind what he was about, and not disturb the congregation. This John Matthews, it seems, is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at that time was kicking his heels for his diversion. This authority of the knight, though exerted in that odd manner which accompanies him in all the circumstances of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, who are not polite enough to see anything ridiculous in his behavior; besides that, the general good sense and worthiness of his character make his friends observe these little singularities as foils that rather set off than blemish his good qualities.

As soon as the sermon is finished, nobody presumes to stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the church. The knight walks down from his seat in the chancel between a double row of his tenants, that stand bowing to him on each side; and every now and then inquires how such a one's wife, or mother, or son, or father does, whom he does not see at church, which is understood as a secret reprimand to the person that is absent.

The chaplain has often told me, that upon a catechising day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a boy that answers well, he has ordered a Bible to be given him next day for his encouragement, and sometimes accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his mother. Sir Roger has likewise added five pounds a year to the clerk's place; and, that he may encourage the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the church service, has promised, upon the death of the present incumbent, who is very old, to bestow it according to merit.