battle of the books et al(书战)

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The Battle of the Books and Other Short Pieces

The Battle of the Books

and Other Short Pieces

Jonathan Swift

The Battle of the Books and Other Short Pieces

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 with in the world, and that so very few are offended

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 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 scumming; let the owner

gather it with discretion, and manage his little stock with husbandry; but,

of all things, let him beware of bringing it under the lash of his betters,

because that will make it all bubble up into impertinence, and he will

find no new supply. 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.

The Battle of the Books and Other Short Pieces

CHAPTER I

A FULL AND TRUE ACCOUNT OF THE BATTLE FOUGHT

LAST FRIDAY BETWEEN THE ANCIENT AND THE

MODERN BOOKS IN SAINT JAMES'S LIBRARY.

WHOEVER examines, with due circumspection, into the annual

records of time, will find it remarked that War is the child of Pride, and

Pride the daughter of Riches:- the former of which assertions may be

soon granted, but one cannot so easily subscribe 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 seldom happens

among men to fall out when all have enough; invasions usually

travelling from north to south, that is to say, from poverty to plenty.

The most ancient and natural grounds of quarrels are lust and avarice;

which, though we 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 politics, we may observe in the republic of dogs, which in

its original seems to be an institution of the many, that the whole state is

ever in the profoundest peace 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, 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 upon a turgescency in any of their females. For the right of

possession lying in common (it being impossible to establish a property

in so delicate a case), jealousies and suspicions do so abound, that the

whole commonwealth 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 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 find the

same reasoning will serve as to the grounds and occasions of each; and

The Battle of the Books and Other Short Pieces

that poverty or want, in some degree or other (whether real or in opinion,

which makes no alteration in the case), has a great share, as well as pride,

on the part of the aggressor.

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 just conclusions upon the merits of

either cause. But the issue or events of this war are not so easy to

conjecture at; for the present quarrel is so inflamed 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 affirmed 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 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

part of 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 into 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 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 therefore to talk with them of a removal

or surrender was a language they did not understand. That if 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 recompensed by the shade and

shelter it afforded them. That as to the levelling or digging down, it was

The Battle of the Books and Other Short Pieces

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

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 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 certain leaders and allies; but, on the other, by the greatness

of their number, upon all defeats affording continual recruits. In this

quarrel whole rivulets of ink have been exhausted, and the virulence of

both parties enormously augmented. Now, it must be here understood,

that ink is the great missive 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 violence, as if it were an engagement of porcupines. This

malignant liquor was compounded, by the engineer 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 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 party that set them up. They are known to the world

under several names; as disputes, arguments, rejoinders, brief

considerations, answers, replies, remarks, reflections, objections,

confutations. For a very few days they are fixed up all in public places,

either by themselves or their representatives, for passengers to gaze at;

whence the chiefest and largest are removed to certain magazines they

The Battle of the Books and Other Short Pieces

call libraries, there to remain in a quarter purposely assigned them, and

thenceforth begin to be called books of controversy.

In these books is wonderfully instilled and preserved the spirit of

each warrior while he is alive; and after his death his soul transmigrates

thither to inform them. This, at least, is the more common opinion; but

I believe it is with libraries as with other cemeteries, where some

philosophers affirm that a certain spirit, which they call BRUTUM

HOMINIS, hovers over the monument, till the body is corrupted and

turns to dust or to worms, but then 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

most disorderly spirits, have always been confined in a separate lodge

from the rest, and for fear of a 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 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

together 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 usurpers have

reigned ever since in his stead; but, to maintain quiet for the future, it

was decreed that all polemics of the larger size should be hold fast with a

chain.

By this expedient, the public peace of libraries might certainly have

been preserved if a new species of controversial books had not arisen of

late years, instinct with a more malignant spirit, from the war above

mentioned between the learned about the higher summit of Parnassus.

When these books were first admitted into the public libraries, I

remember to have said, upon occasion, to several persons concerned,

how I was 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

The Battle of the Books and Other Short Pieces

blending of contrary poisons, their malignity might 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 happened on Friday last between

the Ancient and 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 retained by neither

party, have resolved to comply with the urgent importunity of my friends,

by writing down a full impartial account thereof.

The guardian of the regal library, a person of great valour, but chiefly

renowned for his humanity, 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 ancient chiefs who guarded a small pass on

the superior rock, but, endeavouring to climb up, was cruelly obstructed

by his own unhappy weight and tendency towards his centre, a quality to

which those of the Modern party are extremely subject; for, being light-

headed, they have, in speculation, a wonderful agility, and conceive

nothing too high for them to mount, but, in reducing to practice, discover

a mighty pressure about their posteriors 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 showing all marks of his

favour to the books of their adversaries, 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 Ancients was buried alive in some

obscure corner, and 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

several reasons were assigned. Some imputed it to a 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 spleen, and some climbed up into his head,

to the great perturbation of both. And lastly, others maintained that,

The Battle of the Books and Other Short Pieces

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 books, he

was apt to mistake and clap Descartes next to Aristotle, poor Plato had

got between 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 make a progress through the whole library,

examine the number and strength of their party, and concert their affairs.

This messenger performed all things very industriously, and brought

back with him a list of their forces, in all, fifty thousand, consisting

chiefly of light-horse, heavy-armed foot, and mercenaries; whereof the

foot were in general but sorrily armed and worse clad; their horses large,

but extremely out of case and heart; however, some 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 Ancient, squeezed up among a whole shelf of Moderns, offered

fairly to dispute the case, and to prove by manifest reason that the

priority was due to them from long possession, and in regard of their

prudence, antiquity, and, above all, their great merits toward the

Moderns. But these denied the premises, and seemed very much to

wonder how the Ancients could pretend to insist upon their antiquity,

when it was so plain (if they went to that) that the Moderns were much

the more ancient of the two. As for any obligations they owed to the

Ancients, they renounced them all. "It is true," said they, "we are

informed some few of our party have been so mean as to borrow their

subsistence from you, but the rest, infinitely the greater number (and

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 were of our own breeding, our arms of our

own forging, and our clothes of our 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

The Battle of the Books and Other Short Pieces

but rags underneath, he laughed loud, and in his pleasant 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 begun the quarrel, by setting first on foot the dispute of

precedency, talked so loud of coming to a battle, that Sir William Temple

happened to overhear them, and gave immediate intelligence to the

Ancients, who thereupon drew up their scattered troops together,

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 greatest favourite, and became their

greatest champion.

Things were at this crisis when a material accident 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 infinite numbers

of flies, whose spoils lay scattered 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, 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, without 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,

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 endeavoured to

force his passage, and thrice the centre shook. The spider within,

feeling the terrible convulsion, supposed at first that nature was

approaching to her final dissolution, or else that Beelzebub, with all his

legions, was come to revenge the death of many thousands of his

The Battle of the Books and Other Short Pieces

subjects whom his enemy had slain and devoured. However, he at

length valiantly resolved to issue forth and meet his fate. Meanwhile

the bee had acquitted himself of his toils, and, posted securely at some

distance, was employed in cleansing his wings, and disengaging them

from the ragged remnants of the cobweb. By this time the spider was

adventured 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 madman, and swelled till he was ready to burst. At length,

casting his eye upon the bee, and wisely gathering causes from events

(for they know each other by sight), "A plague split you," said he; "is it

you, with a vengeance, that have made this litter 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 give you my hand and word to come near your kennel no

more; I 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 should come and

teach you better manners." "I pray have patience," said the bee, "or

you'll 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 should have more respect to a person whom

all the world allows to be so much your betters." "By my 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 a disputant, began his argument in the true

spirit of controversy, with resolution to be heartily scurrilous and angry,

to urge on his own reasons without the least regard to the answers or

objections of his opposite, and fully predetermined in his mind against

all conviction.

"Not to disparage myself," said he, "by the comparison with such a

rascal, what art thou but a vagabond without house or home, without

stock or inheritance? born to no possession of your own, but a pair of

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TheBattleoftheBooksandOtherShortPieces1TheBattleoftheBooksandOtherShortPiecesJonathanSwiftTheBattleoftheBooksandOtherShortPieces2THEPREFACEOFTHEAUTHOR.SATIREisasortofglasswhereinbeholdersdogenerallydiscovereverybody'sfacebuttheirown;whichisthechiefreasonforthatkindreceptionitmeetswithintheworld,andt...

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