Contents ( 59)
- THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS
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- JONATHAN SWIFT
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- Contents
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- Introduction
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- The Bookseller to the Reader
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- The Preface of the Author
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- The Battle of the Books
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- The Episode of Bentley and Wotton
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- A Meditation Upon a Broomstick
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- Predictions for the Year 1708
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- The Accomplishment of the First of Mr. Bickerstaff's Predictions
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- Baucis and Philemon
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- The Logicians Refuted
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- The Puppet Show
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- Cadenus and Vanessa
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- Stella's Birthday, 1718
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- Stella's Birthday, 1720
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- Stella's Birthday
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- Stella's Birthday, 1724
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- Stella's Birthday, March 13, 1726
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- To Stella
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- The First He Wrote Oct 17, 1727
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- The Second Prayer was Written Nov 6, 1727
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- The Beasts' Confession
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- An Argument Against Abolishing Christianity
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- Hints Towards an Essay on Conversation
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- Thoughts on Various Subjects
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- A Modest Proposal
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- * * *
- Endnotes
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The goddess and her train, having mounted the 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 metropolis, what blessings did she not let fall upon her seminaries of Gresham and Covent-garden! And now she reached the fatal plain of St. James's library, at what time the two armies were upon the point to engage; where, entering with all her caravan unseen, and landing upon a case of shelves, now desert, but once inhabited by a colony of virtuosos, she stayed 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 the head of a troup 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 begot by stolen embraces with this goddess. He was the darling of his mother above all her children, and she resolved to go and comfort him. But first, 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 therefore gathered up her person into an octavo compass: her body grow white and arid, and split in pieces with dryness; the thick turned into pasteboard, and the thin into paper; upon which her parents and children artfully strewed a black juice, or decoction of gall and soot, in form of letters: her head, and voice, and spleen, kept their primitive form; and that which before was a cover of skin did still continue so. In this guise she marched on towards the Moderns, indistinguishable in shape and dress from the divine Bentley, Wotton's dearest 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 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 eye-balls, gave him a distorted look, and half-overturned his brain. Then she privately ordered two of her beloved 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 fight began; whereof, before I dare adventure to make a particular description, I must, after the example 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 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 upon his shield, the point breaking in the second fold . . . Hic pauca . . . . desunt They bore the wounded aga on their shields to his chariot . . . Desunt . . . nonnulla. . . .