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Ind that this boasted lord of nature
; both a weak and erring creature ;
That instinct is a surer guide
Chan reason-boasting mortals' pride ;
and that brute beasts are far before 'am,
leus est anima brutorum,
Vivo ever knew an honeft brute
t law his neighbour prosecute ;
ring action for assault and battery,
ir friend beguile with lics and Hattery?
Her plains they ramble unconfin'd,
Lo politicks disturb their mind;
hey eat their meals, and take their sport,
or kuow who 's in or out at court.
hey never to the levee go,
o treat as dearest friend, a foe :
hey never importune his grace,
or ever cringe to men in place ;
or undertake a dirty job,
'or draw the quill to write for Bob ;
raught with invective they neler go
o folks at Pater nofter-row.
o judges, fiddlers, dancing-masters,
o pick-pockets, or poetasters,
re known to honest quadrupeds :
o single brute his fellows leads.
rutes never meet in bloody fray,
for cut each other's throats for pay.
f beasts, it is confess'd, the ape
omes neareft us in human shape ;
ike man, he imitates each fashion,
nd malice is his ruling passion :
ut, both in malice and grimaces,
courtier any ape surpasses :
Sebold him humbly cringing wait
pon the minister of state ;
'iew him soon after to inferiors
iping the conduå of superiors :
le premises with equal air,
ind to perform takes equal care.
le in his turn finds imitators :
it court, the porters, lacqueys, waiters,
Cheir mafters manners still contract;
Ind footmen lords and dukes can act.
Thus, at the court, both great and small
Behave alike ; for all ape all,

*HE life of man to represent,
it did a fuppet-fhow invent,

Where the chief actor is a fool.
The gods of old were logs of wood,

And worship was to puppets paid ;
In antic dress the idol stood,

And priest and people bow!d the head.
No wonder then, if art began

The simple votaries to frame,
To shape in timber foolish man,

And consecrate the block to fame.
From hence poetic fancy learn'd

That trees might rise from human forms,
The body to a trunk be turn'd,

And branches issue from the arms.

Thus Dedalus and Ovid too,

That man 's a blockhead, have confeft; Powel* and Stretch* the hint pursue ;

Life is a farce, the world a jeft. The fame great truth South-Scat hath prov'd

On that fam'd theatre, the alley: Where thousands, by directors mov'd,

Are now fad monuments of folly. What Momus was of old to Jove,

The fame a Harlequin is now; The former was buffoon above,

The latter is a Punch below. This fleeting scene is l»ut a stage,

Where various images appear ; In different parts of youth and age

Alike the prince and peafant Mare. Some draw our eyes by being great,

False pomp conceals mere wood within : And legislators rang'd in ftate

And oft but wisdom in machine. A stock may chance to wear a crown,

And timber as a lord take place ; A ftatue may put on a irown,

And cheat us with a thinking face. Others are blindly led away,

And made to act for ends unknown; By the mere spring of wires they play,

nd speak in language not their own. Too oft', alas ! a scolding wife

Usurps a jolly fellow's throne; And many drink the cup of life,

Mix'd and embitteråd by a Joan. In short, whatever men pursue,

Of pleasure, folly, war, or love; This mimic race brings all to view :

Alike they dreis, they talk, they move,
Goon, great Stretch, with artful hand,

Mortal; to please and to deride ;
And, when death breaks thy vital band,

Thou Thalt put on a pappet's pride,
Thou falt in punywood be nown,

Thy image It ali preserve thy fame ; Ages to come thy worth shall own,

Point at thy limbs, and tell thy name, Tell Tom, he draws a f.irce in vain,

Before he looks in nature's glass ; Puns cannot form a witty scene,

Nor pedantry for humour país,
To make men act as senseless wood,

Ard chatter in a mystic ftrain,
Is a mere force on fleih anal blood,

And thews fome error in the brain,
He that would thus refine on thee,

And turn thy stage into a school, The jest of Punch will ever be, And stand confeft the greater


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16 out,

THE GRAND QUESTION DEBATED: But Hannah*, who listen’d to all that was pait,

And could not endure fo vulgar a tale, Whether Hamilton's Bawn should be turned into a Barrack or a Malt-house. 17.29.

As soon as her Laclyft ip called to be dreft,

Cry'd, “ Madain, why furuly my master's pole THUS spoke to my Lady the Knight* full of " left.

« Sir Srthur the maltfter! bow fine it will found! “ Let me have your advice in a weighty afíair. 16 I'd rather the bacon were funk under fround. This Hamilton's Bawnt, whillt it iticks on niy “ But macian, I gucfs 'd there would never come

“ hand, « I lose by the house what I get by the land; • When i faw him fo often with | Darby arid “ But how to dispose of it to the left bidder,

“ Wood, “ For a barracki or malt-kcuje, we now must “ And now my dream 's out; for I was 2. " confider.

« dream'd “ Firít, let me suppose I make it a mal:-heus, " That I saw a huge rat-o dear, how I « Here I have computed the profit will fall t' ui; « scream'd! « There 's nine hundred pounds for labour and “ Acid a'ter, methought, I had lost my new “ grain,

< fhoes; “ I increase it to twelve, so three hundred re “ And Nolly, she said, I should hear some il

« main ; “ A hagdsome addition for wine and good cheer, " Dear inadam, had you but the {pirit to tease, “ Three dishes a day, and three hogsheads a year. “ You nighthavca biruckwhenever you picase: “ With a dozen large vefsels my vault shell be " And, maia, I always beli. v'd you to out, « ftor'd ;

“ That for twenty denials you would not give « No little fcrub joint shall come on my board; “ And you and thic Dean no more shall combine “ tf I had a hufband like him, I furtel, “ To stint me at night to one bottle of wine ; “ Till he gave me my will, I would give him no « Nor shall 1, for his humour, perniit you to

“ reit; ~ purloin,

« Aod, rather than come in the fame pair of thects “ A stone and a quarter of beef from my fur « With such a ciofs man, I would licistlicfr.ets: « loin.

« But, inadlam, I beg you contrive and inve; t, “ If I make it a barrack, the crown is my tenant ; "And worry him out, till he gives his content, My dear, I have ponder'i again and again on 't: « Dear madain, where'er of a barrick I think, In poundage and drawbacks I lole hali my « An I were to be hang', I can't ficep a wink;

* For if a new crotchet comes into my brain, « Whatever they give me, I must be content, “ I can't get it out, though I'd never fo lain. “ Or join with the court inevery debite; " I fancy already a barrack contriv'd « And rather than that, I would lose my estate." " at Hamilton's bawn, and the troop is arrir'd; Thus ended the Kniglit : thus began his incedof this to be fure Sir Arthur ba5 warning, wife :

« And waits on the Captain betimes the nest “ It ma', and it shall be a burrick, my life,

morning. I'm grown a niere mopas; no co:npany comes, “ Norfer, when they meet, bow their Honours • But a rabble of tenants, and ruity dull $mos.

6 belave : “ With Parsons what lady can keep herself clean? Noble Captain, your servant -- Sir Arthur, " I'm all over claub'd when I f! by the Dens.

« mor have " 6. But if you will give us a barracé, ny dear, “ You honour ne much"The honour is " The Captain, I 'm sure, will always come

« mine". « here ;

s 'Twas a fad rainy night"-" But the noro. I then shall not value his Deannip a straw',

« ing is fine.« For the Captain, I warrant, will keep him in " I'ray bow does my Lady?” My wife 's at

your {ervice, “ Or, should he pretend to be brisk od alert, « J think I lease leon her pi?ure by Jervas." “ Will tell him that Chaplains should not be ?o Good morrow, good Captain. ill wait on

“ you down." « That men of his coat hould be minding their “ You tra'n t flir a foot." _You'll think one a “ prayers,

“ clown: “ And not among ladies to give them?lves airs,” « For all the world!, Captain--" « Not balf a3 Thus argued my Lady, but arguod in vain ;

« inch farther." The Knight his opinion reolved to maintain. You must be obey'd!"_". Your servant, Sir

* Sir Arthur Ackejer, it corrsje Jelttiais w.is " Arthur! writion.

" My humble respells to my Lady unknown." † A large old house, tevo miles from Ciritur's " I hope you will ute my house as your own." Jent. F.

“ Go bring me my smock, and leave off your The armyin Ireland is is gedin."ormgelirgi, cver the whole hiig don, called barracks 1. «« Thou nait certainly gotten a cup in thy pate." $ A cart werd in lielcra for 625Cr6

My lady's waiting womar., F. slerzyman. F.

TO of Sir Arthur's managers, F.


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* Pray, madam, be quiet; what was it I • Hift, huffy, I think I hear somebody com« faid?

« ing “ You had like to have put it quite out of my

“ No, madam ; 'tis only Sir Arthur a-humming. « head

• To Thorten my tale (ior I hate a long story), “ Next day, to be sure, the Captain will come, “ The Captain at dinner appears in his glory; " At the head of his troops, with trumpet and

" The Dean and the Doctor bave humbled u drum.

“ their pride, “ Now, madam, obferve how he marches in " For the Captain 's entreated to fit by your fide;

“ And, because he 's their betters, you carve “ The man with the kettle-drum criters the gate : « for him first; * Dub, dub, adub, dub. The trumpeters fol " The Parlons for envy are ready to burst, "low,

« The fervants amaz'd are scarce ever able " Tartara, tantara ; while all the boy: hollow. “ To keep of their eyes, as they wait at the " See now coines thc Captain all daub'd with gold

« table; « lace:

“ hnd Molly and I have thrust in our nose “Ola! the sweet gentlenian ! look in his face; “ To peep at the Captain in all his fine cloes. “ And fue how he rides like a lord of the land, “ Dear madam, be sure he's a fine-spoken man, “ With the fine tla.ning sword that he holds in

“ Do but hear on the Clergy how glib his tongue « his ha id;

“ ran; “ And his horse, the dear creter, it prances and “ And, madam, says he, if such dinners you

( rears ; « With ribbons in knots at its tail and its ears :

" You'll ne'er want for Parsons as long as you " At hit ownes the troop, by the word of com

“ live. “ mand,

“ I neer krew a Parson without a good nose ; " Drawn up in our court; when the Captain cries, " But the devil's as welcome wherever he goes : « STAND!

“ Gronme! they bid us reform and repent, " Your Ladyship lifts up the fath to be seen “ But, 2-3! by their looks they never keep Lent. “ (For fure I had dizer'd you out like a queen).

" Mifter Curate, for all your grave looks, I'm

« afraid The Captain, to thew he is proud of the fa

“ You cast a sheep's eye on her Ladysip's maid: “ Looks up to your window, and cocks up his

" I wish the would lend you her pretty white « beaver

« hand “ (His beaver is cock'd; pray, madam, mark “ In mending your cassock, and smoothing your " that,

" band “ For a Captain of horfe never takes off his hat, (For the Dean was so shabby, and look'd like " Because he has never a band that is idle ;

“ a ninny, For the right holds the sword, and the left " That the Captain suppos'd he was Curate 10 “ holds the bridle).

• Jinny). • Then flourishes thrice his sword in the air, " Whenever you see a castock and gown, " As a compliment due to a lady so fair ;

" A hundred to ove but it covers a clown.

« Observe how a Parson comes in o a room; (Fiow I tremble to think of the blood it hath “ spilt!)

« Gedon me! he hobbles as bad as my “ Then le lowers down the point, and kisses

groom ; « the hilt,

A singlard, when just from his college broke

is loose, « Your Ladyship smiles, and thus you begin : “ Pray, Captain, be pleas'd to alighi and walk

« Can hardly tell how to cry bo to a goose; « in."

“ Your | Noveds, and Blurlörcks, and Omurs, and “ The Captain falutes you with congee profound;

« fiuff, " And your Lady ship curthes balf way to the “ By G--, they don't fignify this pinch of snuff. « Fround.

“ To give a young gentleman right education, " Kit, run to your master, and bid him come « The army's the only good school in the nation:

« My school-mafter called me a dunce and a fool, " l'm sure he 'll be proud of the honour you do “ But at cuffs I was always the cock of the

« school; And, Captain, you'll do us the favour to stay, “ I never could take to my book for the blood o' " And take a thort dinner here with us to-day : “ You're heartily welcome ; but as for good

“ And the puppy confess’d he expected no good

* o me. u cheer, << You come in the very worst time of the year : “ He caught me one morning coquetting his * If I had expected so worthy a geelid

" wife; « Lord! madam! your Lady ship fure is in « But he mauld me, I ne'er was so maul'd in « jeft;

“ my life : * You banter me, madam; the kingdom must

" So I took to the road, and, what's very odd, « grant"

" The first man I robb'd was a Parson, by G-. You officers, Captain, are fo complaisant!" * Dr. Finny, a clergyman in the neighbourhood. F,

+ Ovids, Plutarchs, Homers,

66 to us;

66 US.

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s Dean,

for your

16 cars,

“ Now, madam, you 'll think it a strange thing you never else had known the Dean, “ to say,

But, as of old, obscurely lain; “ But the light of a book makes me fick to this All things gone on the fame dull track, day.”

And Drapier's-hill* been ftill Drumlic; “ Never since I was born did I hear so much But now your name with Penshurit ris; < wit,

And wing'd with fame shall reach the ks “ And, madam, I laugh'd till I thought I should

« fplit. “ So then you look'd scornful, and fnift at the

DRAPIER'S HILL “ As who should say, Nogo, am 1 * finny and We give the world to undertand,

Our thriving Dean las purchas'do « lear?

A purchase which will bring him clear « But he durft not so much as once open his lips, Above his rent four pounds a year ; « Add the Dudor was plaguily 'down in the Provided, to improve the ground, « bips."

He will but add two hundred pound; Thus mercilefs Hannah'ran on in her talk, And, fro in his endless hoarded ftore, Till Me heard the Dean call, “ Will your Lady. To build a house, five hundred more. trip walk?)

Sir Arthur too frall have his will, Her Ladyship answers, “ I'm juftcoining down:” And call the mansion Drapier's-hill : Then, turning to Hannah, and forcing a frown, That, when a nation, long ensav'd, Although it was plain in her heart she was glad, Forgets by whom it once was sav'd; Cry'd, “ Husly, why sure the wench is gone When none the Drapier's praise hall songs mad!

His figns aloft no longer swing; « How could the fechimera's get into your brains? His medals and his prints forgotten ; « Come hither, and take this old


And all his thandkerchiefs are rotten; « paios.

His famous Letters madle wafte-paper ; «« But the Duan, if this secret should come to his This hill may keep the name of Drapier;

In spight of envy, Aourish ftill, « Will never have done with his gibes and his And Drapier's vie with Cooper's bill.

« jeers : « For your life, not a word of the matter, I


Building at Drapier's-Hill. « Give me but a barrack, a fig for the clergy."

And, should you call me to accoun', BY SIR ARTHUR ACHESON

Consulting with mytelf, I find OOD caufe have I to sing and vapour,

It was no levity of wind.

Whate'er I promis'd or intended,
For I am landlord to the Drapier :
He that of every ear's the charmer,

No fault of mine, the scheme is ended;

Nor can you tax me as unsteady, Now condescends to be my farmer,

I have a hundred causes ready : And grace my villa with his ftrains.

All risen fuce that tiattering time, Líves such a bard on British plains ?

When Drapier's-hill appear!d in rhyme. .No; not in all the British court ;

I am, as pow too late I fnd, For none but witlings there refort,

The greatest cully of mankind : Whose names avd works (though dead) are made

The lowest boy in Martin's school Immortal by the Durciad;

May turn and wind me like a fool. And, fure as monument of brafs,

How could I forni so wild a vision, Their fame to future times Hall pass,

To feek, in desests, Fields Elyfan? How, with a weakly warbling tongue,

To live in fear, fufpicion, variance, Of brazen knight they vainly sung:

With thieves, fanatics, and barbarians ? A subject for their genius ft;

But here my Lady will object : He dares defy both sense and wit.

Your Deanship ought to recolle&t, What dares he not? He can, we know it,

That, near the Knigbt of Gosford plac'd, A laureat make that is no poet;

Whom you allow a man of taste, A judige, without the least pretence

Your intervals of time to spend
To common law, or common sense;

With fo conversable a friend,
A bishop that is no divine;
And coxcombs in red ribbons Thine :

* The Dean gave this name to a farq çats Nay, he can make, what's greater far,

Drumluck, which he rented of Sir Arikur toi A middle-ftate 'twixt peace and var ;

whole seat lay boi ween that and Market-kill; -* And say, there shall, for years together,

intended to build an house speu it, but after si Be peace and war, and both, and neither.

changed his mindo F. Happy, O Market-hill! at least,

* Medals were caft, many figns kung sa That court and courtiers have no taste :

handkerchiefs made with devices, ir hertar of ** * Nick-names for my lady,

Dean, under the name of M. B. Dragier, F,

I :


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His rural walks he ne'cr adorns :
Here poor Pomona sits on thorns;
And there neglected Flora fettles
Her bum upon a bed of nettes.

Those thankless and officious cares
I usd to take in friends'affairs,
From which I never could refrain,
Asid have been often chid in vain ;
From these I am recover'd quite,
At least in what regards the Kniglat.
Preserve his health, his store increase;
May nothing interrupt his peace !
But now let all his tenants round
First milk his cows, and after, pound:
Let every cottager conspire
To cut his hedges down for fire :
The raughty boys about the village
His crabs and noes may freely pillage :
He still may keep a pack of knaves
To spoil his work, and work by halves :
His meadows may be dug by swine,
It shall be no concern of miné.
For why thould I continue still
To serve a friend against his will?

A PANEGYRICK ON THE DEAN, In the Perfon of a Lady in the North*. 1730.

ESOLV'D my gratitude to now,

I owe,

It would not fignify a pin
Whatever climate you were in.

'Tis true, but what advantage comes
To me from all a usurer's plumbs;
Though I should see him twice a day,
And am his neighbour cross the way ;
If all my rhetoric must fail
To strike him for a pot of ale?

Thus, when the learned and the wise
Conceal their talents from our eyes,
And from deserving friends with-hold
Their gifts, as Misers do their gold ;
Their knowledge to themselves confind
Is the same avarice of mind;
Nor makes their conversation better,
Than if they never knew a letter.
Such is the fate of Gosford's Knight,
Who keeps his wisdom out of fight;
Whose uncommunicative heart
Will scarce one precious word impart :
Still rapt in fpeculations deep,
His outward fenfes fast alleep;
Who, while I talk, a song will hum,
Or, with his fingers, beat the drunı ;
Beyond the skies transports his mind,
And leaves a lifeless corpse behind.

But, as for me, who ne'er could clamber high,
To understand Malebranche or Cainbray ;
Who send my mind (as I believe) less
Than others do, on errands Neeveless ;
Can listen to a tale humdrum,
And with attention read Tom Thumb;
My fpirits with my body progging,
Both hand in hand together jogging ;
Sunk over head and ears in matter,
Nor can of metaphyfics smatter;
Am more diverted with a quibble,
Than dream of worlds intelligible ;
And think all notions too abstracted
Are like the ravings of a crackt head;
What intercourse of minds can be
Betwixt the Knight sublime and me,
If when I talk, as talk I muft,
It is but prating to a bust?

Where friendship is by Fate design'd,
It forms an union in the mind :
But here I differ from the Knight
Iu every point, lidze black and white :
For none can say that ever yet
We both in one opinion inet;
Not in philofophy, or ale ,
In ftate affairs, or planting cale ;
In rhetoric, or picking ftraw ;
In roasting larks, or making laws;
In public schemes, or catching files ;
lo parliaments, or pudding-pies.

The neighbours wonder why the Knight
Should in a country life delight,
Who not one pleasure entertains
To cheer the folitary scenes :
His guests are few, his visits rare?
Nor uses time, nor time will spare ;
Nor rides, nor walks, nor hunts, nor fowls,
Nor plays at cards, or dice, or bowls ;
But, feited in an easy chair,

De pisos exercise and aix.

Too long I have my thanks delay'd,
Your favours left too long unpaid ;
But now, in all our fex's name,
My artless Mufe shall sing your fame.

Indulgent you to female kind,
To all their weaker fides are blind;
Nine more such champions as the Dean
Would foon restore our ancient reign.
How well, to win the ladies' hearts,
You celebrate their wit and parts !
How have I fek iny spirits rais'd,
By you so oit', so highly prais'd!
Transtorm’d by your convincing tongue :
To witty, beautiful, and young,
I hope to quit that aukward same,
Affected by each vulgar dame,
To modely a weak pretence ;
And foon grow pert on nen of sense;
To Mew my face with scornful air ;
Let others inateh it, if they dare.

Impatient to be out of dcbt,
Oh, may I never once forget
The bard who humbly deigos to choose
Me for the subject of his Muse!
Behind my back, before my nofe,
He founds my praise in verse and prose.

My heart with emulation burns
To make you suitable riturns :
My gratitude the world shall know ;
And see, the Printer's boy below;
Ye hawkers all, your voices lift :
" A Panegyrick on Dean Swift !"
Anc then, to mend the matter still,
By Lady Anne of Market-hill.”

+' Tishoddy of Sir Arthur diheferi,

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