the discovery of Brobdignag and Laputa. The Big and Little Endians were close to him every day, at court and at church.

Swift took his principal measure from Butler, and he emulated his rhymes; yet his manner is his own. There is a mixture of care and precision in it, announcing at once power and fastidiousness, like Mr. Dean going with his verger before him, in flowing gown and five times washed face, with his nails pared to the quick. His long irregular prose verses with rhymes at the end, are an invention of his own; and a similar mixture is discernible even in those, not excepting a feeling of musical proportion. Swift had more music in him than he loved to let "fiddlers" suppose; and throughout all his writings there may be observed a jealous sense of power, modifying the most familiar of his impulses.

After all, however, Swift's verse, compared with Pope's or with Butler's, is but a kind of smart prose. It wants their pregnancy of expression. His greatest works are Gulliver's Travels, and the Tale of a Tub.

THE GRAND QUESTION DEBATED.,

WHETHER HAMILTON'S BAWN SHOULD BE TURNED INTO A BARRACK OR A MALT-HOUSE, 1729.

Thus spoke to my lady the knight full of care:
"Let me have your advice in a weighty affair
This Hamilton's bawn, whilst it sticks on my hand,
I lose by the house what I get by the land,
But how to dispose of it to the best bidder,
For a barrack or malt-house, we now must consider.
First, let me suppose I make it a malt-house:
Here I have computed the profit will fall t us :
There's nine hundred pounds for labor and grain ;
I increase it to twelve, so three hundred remain ;
A handsome addition to wine and good cheer,
Three dishes a day, and three hogsheads a year.
With a dozen large vessels my vaults shall be stor❜d;
No little scrub joint shall come on my board;
And you and the Dean no more shall combine
To stint me at night to one bottle of wine;

Nor shall I, for his humor, permit you to purloin
A stone and a quarter of beef from my surloin.
If I make it a barrack, the crown is my tenant;
My dear, I have ponder'd again and again on 't:
In poundage and drawbacks I lose half my rent;
Whatever they give me, I must be content,
Or join with the court in every debate;

And rather than that, I would lose my estate."
Thus ended the knight: thus began his meek wife :
"It must, and it shall be a barrack, my life.
I'm grown a mere mopus; no company comes,
But a rabble of tenants, and rusty dull rums.*
With parsons what lady can keep herself clean;
I'm all over daub'd when I sit by the Dean.
But if you will give us a barrack, my dear,
The captain, I'm sure, will always come here:
I then shall not value his deanship a straw,
For the captain, I warrant, will keep him in awe;
Or should he pretend to be brisk and alert,
Will tell him that chaplains should not be so pert;
That men of his coat should be minding their prayers,
And not among ladies to give themselves airs."
Thus argued my lady, but argued in vain;
The knight his opinion resolv'd to maintain.
But Hannah, who listen'd to all that was past,
And could not endure so vulgar a taste,
As soon as her ladyship call'd to be drest,
Cry'd," Madam, why surely my master's possest.
Sir Arthur the maltster! how fine it will sound!
I'd rather the bawn were sunk under the ground.
But, madam, I guess'd there would never come good,
When I saw him so often with Darby and Wood.†
And now my dream's out; for I was a-dream'd
That I saw a huge rat-O dear, how I scream'd!
And after, methought, I had lost my new shoes;
And Molly, she said I should hear some ill-news.

"Dear madam, had you but the spirit to tease,
You might have a barrack whenever you please :
And, madam, I always believed you so stout,
That for twenty denials you would not give out.
If I had a husband like him, I purtest,

Till he gave me my will, I would give him no rest;

* A cant word in Ireland for poor country clergymen. †Two of Sir Arthur's managers.

And rather than come in the same pair of sheets
With such a cross man, I would lie in the streets.
But, madam, I beg you, contrive and invent,
And worry him out, till he gives his consent.
Dear madam, whene'er of a barrack I think,
An I were to be hang'd, I can't sleep a wink:
For if a new crotchet comes into my brain,
I can't get it out, though I'd never so fain.
I fancy already a barrack contriv'd

At Hamilton's bawn, and the troop is arriv'd;

Of this to be sure Sir Arthur has warning,

And waits on the captain betimes the next morning.
Now see, when they meet, how their honors behave:

'Noble captain, your servant,'—' Sir Arthur, your slave; You honor me much'- The honor is mine'

"'T was a sad rainy night'—' But the morning is fine.' Pray how does my lady? My wife's at your service.' 'I think I have seen her picture by Jervas?

'Good-morrow, good captain’— I'll wait on you down.” 'You sha'n't stir a foot.'-' You'll think me a clown.' For all the world, captain, not half an inch farther.' 'You must be obey'd!- Your servant, Sir Arthur! My humble respects to my lady unknown.'

'I hope you will use my house as your own.'

"Go bring me my smock, and leave off your prate, Thou hast certainly gotten a cup in thy pate."

66

Pray, madam, be quiet; what was it I said?
You had like to have put it quite out of my head.
Next day, to be sure, the captain will come,
At the head of his troop, with trumpet and drum.
Now, madam, observe how he marches in state;
The man with the kettle-drum enters the gate:
Dub, dub, adub, dub. The trumpeters follow,
Tantarum, tantara; while all the boys hollow.
See now comes the captain all daub'd with gold lace:
Ola! the sweet gentleman! look in his face;
And see how he rides like a lord of the land,

With the fine flaming sword that he holds in his hand;
And his horse, the dear CRETER, it prances and rears,
With ribbons in knots at its tail and its ears:

At last comes the troop, by the word of command,

Drawn up in the court; when the captain cries, STAND! Your ladyship lifts up the sash to be seen

(For sure I had dizen'd you out like a queen).

The captain, to show he is proud of the favor,
Looks up to your window, and cocks up his beaver
(His beaver is cock'd, pray, madam, mark that;
For a captain of horse never takes off his hat,
Because he has NEVER a hand that is idle:

FOR THE RIGHT HOLDS THE SWORD, AND THE LEFT HOLDS THE BRIDLE); Then flourishes thrice his sword in the air,

As a compliment due to a lady so fair;

(How I tremble to think of the blood it has spilt!)

Then he lowers down the point and kisses the hilt.

Your ladyship smiles, and thus you begin:

Pray, captain, be pleas'd to alight and walk in.'

The captain salutes you with congee profound,

And your ladyship curtsies half way to the ground.
Kit, run to your master, and bid him come to us;
I'm sure he'll be proud of the honour you do us.
And, captain, you'll do us the favor to stay,
And take a short dinner here with us to-day;
You're heartily welcome; but as for good cheer,
You come in the very worst time in the year;
If I had expected so worthy a guest―'

'Lord, madam! your ladyship sure is in jest: You banter me, madam; the kingdom must grant—' 'You officers, captain, are so complaisant!'"

66

"Hist, hussy, I think I hear somebody coming!" 'No, madam; 'tis only Sir Arthur a-humming.

To shorten my tale (for I hate a long story),

The captain at dinner appears in his glory;

The Dean and the doctor have humbled their pride,

For the captain's entreated to sit by your side;

And because he's their betters, you carve for him first;
The parsons for envy are ready to burst.

The servants amaz'd are scarce ever able

To keep off their eyes, as they wait at the table;

And Molly and I have thrust in our nose

To peep at the captain in all his fine clo'es.
Dear madam, be sure he's a fine-spoken man;
Do but hear on the clergy how glib his tongue ran;
And 'madam,' says he, if such dinners you give,
You'll ne'er want for parsons as long as you live.
I ne'er knew a parson without a good nose;
But the devil's as welcome wherever he goes.
G-d-n me! they bid us reform and repent,
But z-nds! by their looks they never keep Lent.
Mister Curate, for all your grave looks, I'm afraid
You cast a sheep's eye on her ladyship's maid:

I wish she would lend you her pretty white hand
In mending your cassock, and smoothing your band'
(For the Dean was so shabby, and look'd like a ninny,
The captain suppos'd he was curate to Jinny).*
Whenever you see a cassock and gown,

A hundred to one but it covers a clown.

Observe how a parson comes into a room;
G-d-n me! he hobbles as bad as my groom;

A scholard, when just from his college broke loose,
Can hardly tell how to cry bo to a goose;

Your NOVEDS, and BLUTURCKS, and OмURS, and stuff,†
By G-, they don't signify this pinch of snuff.
To give a young gentleman right education,
The army's the only good school in the nation;
My schoolmaster call'd me a dunce and a fool,
But at cuffs I was always the cock of the school:
I never could take to my book for the BLOOD O' ME,
And the puppy confess'd he expected no GOOD O' ME.
He caught me one morning coquetting his wife;
But he mauld me, I ne'er was so mauld in my life:
So I took to the road, and, what's very odd,
The first man I robb'd was a parson, by G—.
Now, madam, you'll think it a strange thing to say,
But the sight of a book makes me sick to this day.'

"Never since I was born did I hear so much wit,
And, madam, I laugh'd till I thought I should split
So then you look scornful, and snift at the Dean,
As who should say, Now am I skinny and lean?
But he durst not so much as once open his lips,
And the doctor was plaguily down in the hips."
Thus merciless Hannah ran on in her talk,

Till she heard the Dean call, "Will your ladyship walk?"
Her ladyship answers, "I'm just coming down :"
Then turning to Hannah, and forcing a frown,
Although it was plain in her heart she was glad,
Cry'd, "Hussy, why sure the wench is gone mad !
How could these chimeras get into your brains?—
Come hither and take this old gown for your pains;
But the Dean, if this secret should come to his ears,
Will never have done with his gibes and his jeers:
For your life not a word of this matter I charge ye;
Give me but a barrack, a fig for the clergy."

* Dr. Jinny, a clergyman in the neighborhood. † Ovids, Plutarchs, and Homers.