66

For he fights like a god, and Pallas or Apollo are 66 ever at his elbow. But, Oh, mother! if what Fame reports be true, that I am the fon of fo great a "goddess, grant me to hit Temple with this lance, "that the ftroke may fend him to hell, and that I may "return in fafety and triumph, laden with his fpoils." The first part of this prayer the gods granted, at the interceffion of his mother, and of Momus; but the reft, by a perverfe wind, fent from Fate, was fcattered in the air. Then Wotton grafped his lance, and brandishing it thrice over his head, darted it with all his might; the goddess, his mother, at the fame time, adding ftrength to his arm. Away the lance went hizzing, and reached even to the belt of the averted Ancient; upon which lightly grafing it fell to the ground. Temple neither. felt the weapon touch him, nor heard it fall. And Wotton might have efcaped to his army, with the honour of having emitted his lance against fo great a leader, unre venged; but Apollo, enraged, that a javelin flung by the affiftance of fo foul a goddess, fhould pollute his fountain, put on the shape of and foftly came to young Boyle, who then accompanied Temple: he point ed first to the lance, then to the distant Modern that flung it, and commanded the young hero to take immediate revenge. Boyle, clad in a fuit of armour which had. been given him by all the gods, immediately advanced against the trembling foe, who now fled before him. As a young lion in the Libyan plains, or Araby Desert, fent by his aged fire to hunt for prey, or health, or exercife; he fcours along, wifhing to meet fome tyger. from the mountains, or a furious boar; if chance a wild afs, with brayings importune, affronts his ear; the generous beaft, though loathing to diftain his claws with. blood fo vile, yet much provoked at the offenfive noife; which Echo, foolish nymph, like her ill-judging fex,. repeats much louder, and with more delight than Philomela's fong; he vindicates the honour of the forest, and

2

Boyle was affifted in this difpute by Dean Aldrich, Dr.. Atterbury, afterwards Bishop of Rochester, and other perfons at Oxford, celebrated for their genius and their learning, then called the Chrift-church wits. Hawkes,

hunts

hunts the noify long-ear'd animal: fo Wotton fled, fo Boyle purfued. But Wotton, heavy-armed, and flow of foot, began to flack his course; when his lover Bentley appeared, returning laden with the fpoils of the two fleep-ing Ancients. Boyle obferved him well; and foon difcovering the helmet and fhield of Phalaris, his friend, both which he had lately, with his own hands, new polifhed and gilt; rage fparkled in his eyes; and leaving his purfuit after Wotton, he furiously rushed on against this new approacher. Fain would he be revenged on both; but both now fled different ways. And as a woman in a little houfe, that gets a painful livelihood by fpinning; if chance her geefe be fcattered o'er the common, fhe courfes round the plain from fide to `fide, compelling here and there the fragglers to the flock; they cackle loud, and flutter o'er the champain: fo Boyle purfued, fo fled this pair of friends. Finding at length their flight was vain, they bravely joined, and drew themselves in phalanx. First, Bentley threw a fpear with all his force, hoping to pierce the enemy's breaft.

Pallas came unfeen, and in the air took off the point, and clapped on one of lead; which, after a dead bang against the enemy's fhield, fell blunted to the ground. Then Boyle, obferving well his time, took up a lance of wondrous length and sharpness; and as this pair of friends compacted flood clofe fide to fide, he wheeled him to the right, and, with unufual force, darted the weapon. Bentley faw his fate approach; and flanking down his arms clofe to his ribs, hoping to fave his body; in went the point, paffing rhrough arm and fide: nor ftopt, or spent its force, till it had alfo pierced the valiant Wotton; who going to fuftain his dying friend, fhared his fate. As when a fkilful cook has truffed a brace of woodcocks, he, with iron fkewer, pierces the tender fides of both, their legs and wings clofe pinioned to their ribs fo was this pair of friends transfixed, till down they fell, joined in their lives, joined in their

:

*This is alfo after the manner of Homer; the woman's getting a painful livelihood by fpinning, has nothing to do with the fimilitude, nor would be excufable without fuch an authority.

Vid. Homer.

1

deaths;

deaths; so closely joined, that Charon would mistake them both for one, and waft them over Styx for half his fare. Farewel, beloved, loving pair; few equals have you left behind and happy and immortal fhall you be, if all my wit and eloquence can make you.

And, now *

*

*

*

Defunt cætera.

A

170

A DISCOURSE concerning the MECHANICAL OPERATION of the SPIRIT.

In a LETTER to a FRIEND.

A FRAGMENT.

The BOOKSELLER'S ADVERTISEMENT.

T

HE following difcourfe came into my hands perfect and entire. But there being feveral things in it which the prefent age would not very well bear, I kept it by me fome years, refolving it fhould never fee the light. At length, by the advice and affiftance of a judicious friend, I retrenched thofe parts that might give moft offence, and have now ventured to publish the remainder. Concerning the author, I am wholly ignorant; neither can I conjecture, whether it be the fame with that of the two foregoing pieces; the original having been fent me at a different time, and in a different hand. The learned reader will better determine; to whofe judgment I entirely fubmit it.

A DISCOURSE concerning the MECHANIOPERATION of the SPIRIT*.

CAL

For T. H. Efg: t at his chambers in the academy of the Beaux-Efprits in New England.

I

SIR,

T is now a good while fince I have had in my head fomething, not only very material, but abfolutely neceffary to my health, that the world should be informed in. For, to tell you a fecret, I am able to contain it no longer. However, I have been perplexed for fome time, to refolve what would be the most proper form to fend it abroad in. To which end, I have been three days courfing through Westminster-ball, and St. Paul's church-yard, and Fleet-street, to perufe titles; and I do not find any which holds fo general a vogue, as that of A letter to a friend. Nothing is more common than to meet with long epiftles addreffed to perfons and places, where, at first thinking, one would be apt to imagine it not altogether fo neceffary or convenient; fuch as, a neighbour at next door, a mortal enemy, a per

*This difcourfe is not altogether equal to the former, the beft parts of it being omitted. Whether the bookfeller's account be true, that he durft not print the rest, I know not: nor indeed is it easy to determine, whether he may be relied on in any thing he lays of this, or the former treatifes, only as to the time they were writ in: which, however, appears more from the difcourfes themfelves, than his relation.

This difcourfe is a fatire against enthusiasm, and thofe affected inspirations, which conftantly begin in folly, and very often end in vice. In this treatise, the author has revelled in too licentious a vein of farcafm: many of his ideas are naufeous, fome are indecent, and others have an irreligious tendency. Nor is the picce itfelf equal in wit and humour, either to The Tale of a Tub, or The Battle of the Books. I fhould constantly chufe rather to praife, than to arraign any part of Swift's writings but in thofe tracts where he tries to make us uneafy with ourfelves, and unhappy in our present existence, there I muft yield him up entirely to cenfure. Orrery.

f Supposed to be Col. Hunter. VOL. I.

P

fect