of much debate among the learned in the latter end of the last century.
Indeed, Sir, I know nothing of the matter. I am not learned. My grandfather was chiefly intent to make me an English, and, I may say, a Bible scholar. I was very young when I had the misfortune to lose him. My whole endeavour has been since, that the pains he took with me, should not be cast away.
I have discovered you, madam, to be a Parthian Lady. You can fight flying, I see. You must not, I tell you, come off so easily for what you have thrown out. Let me ask you, Did you ever read The Tale of a Tub?
The Baronet laughed-out, tho' evidently in the wrong place.
How apt are laughing spirits, said Mr. Walden, looking solemnly, to laugh, when perhaps they ought—There he stopt—[to be laugh'd at, I suppose he had in his head]. But I will not, however, be laugh'd out of my question—Have you, madam, read Swift's Tale of a Tub?—There is such a book, Sir Hargrave; looking with a leer of contempt at the Baronet.
I know there is, Mr. Walden, replied the Baronet, and again laughed—Have you, madam; to me? Pray let us know, what Mr. Walden drives at.
I have, Sir.
Why then, madam, resumed Mr. Walden, you no doubt read, bound up with it, The Battle of the Books; a very fine piece, written in favour of the antients, and against the moderns; and thence must be

acquainted with the famous dispute I mentioned. And this will shew you, that the moderns are but pygmies in science compared to the antients. And, pray, shall not the knowlege which enables us, to understand and to digest the wisdom of these immortal antients, be accounted learning?—Pray, madam, nodding his head, answer me that.
O how these pedants, whispered Sir Hargrave to Mr. Reeves, strut in the livery and brass buttons of the antients, and call their servility, learning!
You are going beyond my learning, or capacity, Sir. I must agree, that the knowlege which enables us to comprehend the wisdom of the antients, and to be improved by it, deserves to be called learning. Yet the antients may be read, I suppose, and not understood?—But pray, Sir, let the Parthian fly the field. I promise you that she will not