OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 11/From Mary Butler to Jonathan Swift - 2

FROM THE DUCHESS OF ORMOND.
I SHOULD sooner have thanked you for your letter, but that I hoped to have seen you here by this time. You cannot imagine how much I am grieved, when I find people I wish well to, run counter to their own interest, and give their enemies such advantages, by being so hard upon their friends ​as to conclude, if they are not without fault, they are not to be supported, or scarce conversed with. Fortune is a very pretty gentlewoman; but how soon she may be changed, nobody can tell. Fretting her, with the seeing all she does for people only makes them despise her, may make her so sick as to alter her complexion; but I hope our friends will find her constant, in spite of all they do to shock her; and remember the story of the arrows, that were very easily broke singly; but when tied up close together, no strength of man could hurt them. But that you may never feel any ill consequences from whatever may happen, are the sincere wishes of, brother, yours, with all sisterly affection.
M. O.
* ↑ The duke of Ormond was one of the sixteen brothers; the duchess therefore, calls Swift brother in her lord's right.
* ↑ In this letter the duchess alludes to the division then subsisting among the ministers at court; and it is probable, that the hint about the story of the arrows produced the poem called "The Faggot," which the dean wrote about this time. It is said, under the title, to have been written in the year 1713, when the queen's ministers were quarrelling among themselves. See vol. VII, p. 95.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 11/From Matthew Prior to Jonathan Swift - 4

FROM MR. PRIOR.
HEATHROP, AUG. 24, 1717.
YOURS, my good friend, of the sixth, finds me in Oxfordshire with the duke of Shrewsbury, which would sooner have been acknowledged, had I stayed in London. Before I left that pious city, I made due inquiries into the methods and regularity of your correspondence with the earl. He has received your letters; he will answer them, but not to day, sicut olim. Nothing can change him. I can get no positive answer from him, nor can any man else; so trouble yourself no more on that head than he does. He is still in London, and possibly has answered you, while I am a little arraigning his neglect; but in all cases liberavi animam meam.
I wish you were in England, that you might a little look over the strange stuff, that I am to give our friends for their money. I shall be angry if you are near and not with me; but when I see you, that weighty question may easily be decided. In the mean time I am taking your good counsel, and will be in the country as much as I can.
You have found two mistakes in the list, but have not corrected them. I presume we shall have it of the best edition, when you send the list back again; of which, I say, no haste is required.
​Give my service and thanks to all friends; reserve only to yourself the assurance of my being, beyond expression, my friend, yours, &c.
M. PRIOR.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 11/From Mary Butler to Jonathan Swift - 3

FROM THE DUCHESS OF ORMOND.
I WAS extremely pleased to find you had not forgot your friends, when it is so hard for them to write you, and by their concern for you, put you in mind of them. But I find no misfortunes can lessen your friendship, which is so great, as to blind you of the side of their faults, and make you believe you see virtues in them, it were happy for them they enjoyed in any degree; for, I am sure, some of those you named are much wanted at this time. I was, as you heard, very well pleased, that my friend was safe as to his person, but very uneasy at seeing his reputation so treated. As to his fortune, it is yet in dispute. However, as long as he is well, I am satisfied. It is with difficulty I do hear; but now and then a straggling body brings me an account of him: for there has been no encouragement to write by the post, all letters miscarrying, that either he or I have wrote that way, that we have given it over now, and trust to accident for the news of each other. ​I hope I shall hear from you oftener than I have done for some months past: for no friend you have has more respect for you, than your most humble servant,
M. ORMOND.
Your niece Betty is your humble servant.
* ↑ The duke, who being suspected of treasonable practices, or designs, went abroad.
* ↑ Her grace's daughter.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 11/From Mary Butler to Jonathan Swift - 4

FROM THE DUCHESS OF ORMOND.
I HAD the ill fortune to miss of that letter you upbraid me with. I had deserved any reproaches you could make me, if it had come to my hands, and I not made due acknowledgments for your inquiries after me. I will make you wish you had not been so angry with me; for I will scrawl out myself, what you would rather Betty or my maid had, for they would have made shorter work of it; but I will answer every part of yours, that you obliged me with by Mr. Ford.
First, as to the lady you mention, the reason I had not seen her in a great while was, my being in the country. To tell you the truth, I believe her husband has been a better courtier, than either she, or any of her sex could be; because men have it in their power to serve, and I believe hers has effectually done what lay in him.
You kindly ask how my affairs go. There is yet no end of them, and God only knows when there will be. For when every thing was thought done, a sudden blast has blown all hopes away, and then they give me fresh expectations. In the mean time I am forced to live upon the borrow; my goods all taken away; that I shall not so much as have a bed to lie upon, but what I must buy; and no money of my own to do that with; so that you may imagine me in a cheerful way. I pray God support me.
​The gentleman you inquired after is very well now. The illness you heard he had, he has been subject to a good while. What you desire, I wish were in the power of either his brother or me; but all will go from both of us of every kind. Only they say, that the clothes upon my back I may perhaps call my own, and that's all. I was obliged to leave the country. I was so ill there, that if I had not come to the physicians, I cannot tell what might have happened. My daughter is your most humble servant, and is pretty well in health.
Am not I one of my word, and troubled you twice as long as you would have wished? But you will find by this, that a woman's pen should no more be set at work than her tongue; for she never knows when to let either of them rest. But my paper puts me in mind, that I have but just room to tell you, I wish much to see you here, if it could be with your satisfaction; and that I am, with great sincerity, sir, your faithful humble servant,
M. ORMOND.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 11/From Matthew Prior to Jonathan Swift - 2

FROM MR. PRIOR.
PARIS, AUG. 15-16, 1713.
AS I did not expect, my good friend Jonathan, to have received a letter from you at Dublin, so I am ​sure I did not intend to write one thither to you; but Mr. Rosingrave thinks it may do him service, in recommending him to you. If so, I am very glad of it; for it can be of no other use imaginable. I have writ letters now above twenty-two years. I have taken towns, destroyed fleets, made treaties, and settled commerce in letters. And what of all this? Why, nothing; but that I have had some subject to write upon. But to write a letter only because Mr. Rosingrave has a mind to carry one in his pocket, to tell you, that you are sure of a friendship, which can never do you three pence of good, and wish you well in England very soon, when I do not know when I am likely to be there myself: all this, I say, is very absurd for a letter; especially when I have this day written a dozen much more to the purpose. If I had seen your manuscript; if I had received Dr. Parnell's poem; if I had any news of Landen being taken; why well and good; but as I know no more than the duke of Shrewsbury designs for England within three weeks; that I must stay here till somebody else comes, and then brings me necessarily to say, good Mr. dean, that I am like the fellow in Rehearsal, who did not know if he was to be merry or serious, or in what way or mood to act his part. One thing only I am assured of, that I love you very well; and am, most sincerely and faithfully, dear sir, your servant and brother,
M. PRIOR.
"Prudens futuri temporis exitum Caliginosâ nocte premit Deus, Ridetque————"
* ↑ 'Of the History of the Peace of Utrecht.'
* ↑ He was one of the sixteen.
* ↑ Sir Constantine Phipps.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 11/From Matthew Prior to Jonathan Swift - 6

FROM THE SAME.
II HAVE received yours of the 6th, with the list corrected. I have two colon and comma men. We correct, and design to publish, as fast as the ​nature of this great or sorry work, as you call it, will bear; but we shall not be out before Christmas, so that our friends abroad may complete their collection till Michaelmas, and be returned soon enough to have their names printed and their books got ready for them. I thank you most heartily for what you have been pleased to do in this kind. Give yourself no farther trouble: but if any gentleman, between this and Michaelmas desires to subscribe, do not refuse it. I have received the money of Mr. Mitford.
I am going to morrow morning to the Bath, to meet lord Harley there. I shall be back in a month. The earl of Oxford is still here. He will go into Herefordshire some time in June. He says he will write to you himself. Am I particular enough? Is this prose? And do I distinguish tenses? I have nothing more to tell you, but that you are the happiest man in the world; and if you are once got into la bagatelle, you may despise the world. Beside contriving emblems, such as cupids, torches, and hearts for great letters, I am now unbinding two volumes of printed heads, to have them bound together in better order than they were before. Do not you envy me? For the rest, matters continue sicut olim. I will not tell you how much I want you, and I cannot tell you how well I love you. Write to me, my dear dean, and give my service to all our friends. Yours ever,
M. PRIOR.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 11/From Matthew Prior to Jonathan Swift - 5

FROM MR. PRIOR.
A PRETTY kind of amusement I have been engaged in; commas, semicolons, italicks, and capitals, to make nonsense more pompous, and furbelow bad poetry with good printing. My friends' letters, in the mean time, have lain unanswered; and the obligations I have to them, on account of the very ​book itself, are unacknowledged. This is not all; I must beg you once more to transfer to us an entire list of my subscribers, with their distinct titles, that they may, for my honour, be printed at the beginning of my book. This will easily be done by revising the list, which we sent to you. I must pray of you, that it may be exact. The money I receive of Mitford as mentioned in your last.
The earl of Oxford has not at all disappointed my expectations. He is semper idem, and has as much business to do now, as when he was governing England, or impeached for treason. He is still in town, but going in a week or ten days into Herefordshire. Lord and lady Harley are at the Bath, and as soon as I shall have settled my affairs of the printing press, (sad business! as you very well call it) I shall go into the country to them.
My health, I thank you, is pretty good. My courage better. I drink very often to your health, with some of our friends here; and am always, with the greatest truth and affection, dear sir, your obliged and most obedient servant,
M. PRIOR.
# The Town of Pawlet v. Daniel Clark

* related portals: Supreme Court of the United States.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.
United States Supreme Court
13 U.S. 292
The Town of Pawlet v. Daniel Clark

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Toys of Peace and Other Papers

one or more chapters are available in a spoken word format.
* The Toys of Peace
* Louise
* Tea
* The Disappearance of Crispina Umberleigh
* The Wolves of Cernogratz
* Louis
* The Guests
* The Penance
* The Phantom Luncheon
* A Bread and Butter Miss
* Bertie's Christmas Eve
* Forewarned
* The Interlopers
* Quail Seed
* Canossa
* The Threat
* Excepting Mrs. Pentherby
* Mark
* The Hedgehog
* The Mappined Life
* Fate
* The Bull
* Morlvera
* Shock Tactics
* The Seven Cream Jugs
* The Occasional Garden
* The Sheep
* The Oversight
* Hyacinth
* The Image of the Lost Soul
* The Purple of the Balkan Kings
* The Cupboard of the Yesterdays
* For the Duration of the War
# The Works of Francis Bacon/Volume 1/Essays/Of Expense

XXVIII. OF EXPENSE.
Riches are for spending, and spending for honour and good actions; therefore extraordinary expense must be limited by the worth of the occasion; for voluntary undoing may be as well for a man's country as for the kingdom of heaven: but ordinary expense ought to be limited by a man's estate, and governed with such regard, as it be within his compass; and not subject to deceit and abuse of servants; and ordered to the best show, that the bills may be less than the ​estimation abroad. Certainly, if a man will keep but of even hand, his ordinary expenses ought to be but to the half of his receipts; and if he think to wax rich, but to the third part. It is no baseness for the greatest to descend and look into their own estate. Some forbear it, not upon negligence alone, but doubting to bring themselves into melancholy, in respect they shall find it broken: but wounds cannot be cured without searching. He that cannot look into his own estate at all, had need both choose well those whom he employeth, and change them often; for new are more timorous and less subtle. He that can look into his estate but seldom, it behoveth him to turn all to certainties. A man had need, if he be plentiful in some kind of expense, to be saving again in some other: as if he be plentiful in diet, to be saving in apparel: if he be plentiful in the hall, to be saving in the stable, and the like; for he that is plentiful in expenses of all kinds will hardly be preserved from decay. In clearing of a man's estate, he may as well hurt himself in being in too sudden, as in letting it run on too long; for hasty selling is commonly as disadvantageable as interest. Besides, he that clears at once will relapse; for finding himself out of straits, he will revert to his customs: but he that cleareth by degrees induceth a habit of frugality, and gaineth as well upon his mind as upon his estate. Certainly, who hath a state to repair, may not despise small things; and, commonly, it is less dishonourable to abridge petty charges than to stoop to petty gettings. A man ought warily to begin charges, which once begun will continue: but in matters that return not, he may be more magnificent.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 7/On the Collar of Tiger

ON THE COLLAR OF TIGER,
MRS. DINGLEY'S LAPDOG.
PRAY steal me not; I'm Mrs. Dingley's, Whose heart in this fourfooted thing lies.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 7/Palinodia. Horace, Book I. Ode XVI.

PALINODIA.
HORACE, BOOK I. ODE XVI.
GREAT sir, than Phœbus more divine, Whose verses far his rays outshine, Look down upon your quondam foe; O! let me never write again, If e'er I disoblige you, dean, Should you compassion show.
Take those iambicks which I wrote, When anger made me piping hot, And give them to your cook, To singe your fowl, or save your paste, The next time when you have a feast; They'll save you many a book.
To burn them, you are not content; I give you then my free consent, To sink them in the harbour: If not, they'll serve to set off blocks, To roll on pipes, and twist in locks; So give them to your barber. ​Or, when you next your physick take, I must entreat you then to make A proper application; 'Tis what I've done myself before, With Dan's fine thoughts, and many more, Who gave me provocation.
What cannot mighty anger do? It makes the weak the strong pursue, A goose attack a swan; It makes a woman, tooth and nail, Her husband's hands and face assail, While he's no longer man.
Though some, we find, are more discreet, Before the world are wondrous sweet, And let their husbands hector: But, when the world's asleep, they wake, That is the time they choose to speak; Witness the curtain lecture.
Such was the case with you, I find: All day you could conceal your mind; But when St. Patrick's chimes Awak'd your Muse (my midnight curse, When I engag'd for better for worse) You scolded with your rhymes.
Have done! have done! I quit the field, To you, as to my wife, I yield: As she must wear the breeches: So shall you wear the laurel crown, Win it, and wear it, 'tis your own; The poet's only riches.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 7/On a Very Old Glass at Market Hill

The next poem, Dr. Swift's Answer, is a response to this poem.
ON A VERY OLD GLASS AT MARKET HILL.
FRAIL glass! thou bear'st that name as well as I; Though none can tell, which of us first shall die.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 7/On the Five Ladies at Sot's-hole

The next poem, The Five Ladies Answer, is a response to this poem.
ON THE
FIVE LADIES AT SOT'S-HOLE,
WITH THE DOCTOR AT THEIR HEAD.
N. B. THE LADIES TREATED THE DOCTOR.
SENT AS FROM AN OFFICER IN THE ARMY. 1728.
FAIR ladies, number five, Who, in your merry freaks, With little Tom contrive To feast on ale and steaks;
While he sits by a grinning, To see you safe in Sot's hole, Set up with greasy linen, And neither mugs nor pots whole;
Alas! I never thought, A priest would please your palate; Besides, I'll hold a groat, He'll put you in a ballad;
Where I shall see your faces On paper daub'd so foul, They'll be no more like Graces, Than Venus like an owl.
And we shall take you rather To be a midnight pack Of witches met together, With Beelzebub in black. ​It fills my heart with woe, To think, such ladies fine Should be reduc'd so low, To treat a dull divine.
Be by a parson cheated! Had you been cunning stagers, You might yourselves be treated By captains and by majors.
See how corruption grows, While mothers, daughters, aunts, Instead of powder'd beaux, From pulpits choose gallants.
If we, who wear our wigs With fantail and with snake, Arc bubbled thus by prigs; Z—ds! who would be a rake?
Had I a heart to fight, I'd knock the doctor down; Or could I read or write, Egad! I'd wear a gown.
Then leave him to his birch; And at the Rose on Sunday, The parson safe at church, I'll treat you with burgundy.
* ↑ An alehouse in Dublin famous for beef-steaks.
* ↑ Dr. Thomas Sheridan.
* ↑ Dr. Sheridan was a schoolmaster.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 7/On the Little House by the Churchyard of Castlenock

ON THE LITTLE HOUSE BY THE CHURCHYARD OF CASTLENOCK. 1710.
WHOWEVER pleases to inquire Why yonder steeple wants a spire, The gray old fellow, poet Joe, The philosophick cause will show. Once on a time a western blast At least twelve inches overcast, Reckoning roof, weathercock, and all, Which came with a prodigious fall; And tumbling topsyturvy round Lit with its bottom on the ground. For, by the laws of gravitation, It fell into its proper station. This is the little strutting pile, You see just by the churchyard stile; The walls in tumbling gave a knock, And thus the steeple got a shock; ​From whence the neighbouring farmer calls The steeple, Knock; the vicar, Walls. The vicar once a week creeps in, Sits with his knees up to his chin; Here cons his notes, and takes a whet, Till the small ragged flock is met. A traveller, who by did pass, Observ'd the roof behind the grass: On tiptoe stood, and rear'd his snout, And saw the parson creeping out; Was much surpris'd to see a crow Venture to build his nest so low. A schoolboy ran unto 't and thought, The crib was down, the blackbird caught. A third, who lost his way by night, Was forc'd for safety to alight, And stepping o'er the fabrick roof, His horse had like to spoil his hoof. Warburton took it in his noddle, This building was design'd a model; Or of a pigeon-house or oven, To bake one loaf, and keep one dove in. Then Mrs. Johnson gave her verdict, And every one was pleased that heard it: All that you make this stir about Is but a still which wants a spout. The reverend Dr. Raymond guess'd More probably than all the rest; He said, but that it wanted room, It might have been a pigmy's tomb. ​The doctor's family came by, And little miss began to cry; Give me that house in my own hand! Then madam bade the chariot stand, Call'd to the clerk, in manner mild, Pray, reach that thing here to the child: That thing, I mean, among the kale; And here's to buy a pot of ale. The clerk said to her, in a heat, What! sell my master's country seat, Where he comes every week from town! He would not sell it for a crown. Poh! fellow, keep not such a pother; In half an hour thou 'lt make another. Says Nancy, I can make for miss A finer house ten times than this; The dean will give me willow sticks, And Joe my apron full of bricks.
* ↑ Mr. Beaumont of Trim.
* ↑ Archdeacon Wall, a correspondent of Swift's.
* ↑ Dr. Swift's curate at Laracor.
* ↑ Stella.
* ↑ Minister of Trim.
* ↑ The waiting-woman.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 7/On Wood the Ironmonger

This is the fourth of seven poems about William Wood’s proposal for Ireland: 1. Epigram on Wood's Brass Money; 2. A Simile on our Want of Silver; 3. Wood an Insect; 4. On Wood the Ironmonger; 5. Will Wood's Petition; 6. A new Song on Wood's Halfpence; and 7. A serious Poem upon Will Wood.
ON WOOD THE IRONMONGER.
1725.
SALMONEUS, as the Grecian tale is, Was a mad coppersmith of Elis; Up at his forge by morning peep, No creature in the lane could sleep; Among a crew of roystering fellows Would sit whole evenings at the alehouse: His wife and children wanted bread, While he went always drunk to bed. This vapouring scab must needs devise To ape the thunder of the skies: With brass two fiery steeds he shod, To make a clattering as they trod. Of polish'd brass his flaming car Like lightning dazzled from afar; And up he mounts into the box, And he must thunder, with a pox. Then furious he begins his march, Drives rattling o'er a brazen arch: With squibs and crackers arm'd, to throw Among the trembling crowd below. All ran to prayers, both priests and laity, To pacify this angry deity: ​When Jove, in pity to the town, With real thunder knock'd him down. Then what a huge delight were all in, To see the wicked varlet sprawling; They search'd his pockets on the place, And found his copper all was base; They laugh'd at such an Irish blunder, To take the noise of brass for thunder. The moral of this tale is proper, Apply'd to Wood's adulterate copper: Which, as he scatter’d, we like dolts Mistook at first for thunderbolts, Before the Drapier shot a letter, (Nor Jove himself could do it better) Which, lighting on th' impostor's crown, Like real thunder knock'd him down.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 7/On a Curate's Complaint of Hard Duty

on
A CURATE'S COMPLAINT of HARD DUTY.
I MARCH'D three miles through scorching sand, With zeal in heart, and notes in hand: I rode four more to Great St. Mary, Using four legs, when two were weary: To three fair virgins I did tie men, In the close bands of pleasing Hymen: I dipp'd two babes in holy water, And purify'd their mother after. ​Within an hour and eke a half, I preach'd three congregations deaf; Where thundering out, with lungs longwinded, I chopp d so fast, that few there minded.
| My emblem, the laborious sun, | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ |
| Saw all these mighty labours done | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ |
| Before one race of his was run. | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ |
What mortal else could e'er go through it!