THE PUPPETSHOW.

THE life of man to represent,

And turn it all to ridicule,
Wit did a puppetshow invent,
Where the chief actor is a fook

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 Dædalus and Ovid too,

That man's a blockhead, have confest :.
Powel* and Stretch* the hint pursue ;
Life is a farce, the world a jest.

Two famous puppetshow-men.-In the year 1715 was published,. A second Tale of a Tub; or, the History of Robert Powell, the Puppetshow-man," written by Thomas Burnet, Esq. youngest son to Bishop Burnet, who was bred to the law; and, beside the piece here mentioned, was the author of many other political pamphlets against the ministry of the four last years of Queen Anne, for some of which: he was taken into custody by the messengers; and was suspected of being one of the Mohocks that attacked young Davenant. Sea Journal to Stella, March 8, 1711-12. N..

The same great truth South Sea has prov'd
On that fam'd theatre, the alley;
Where thousands, by directors mov'd,

Are now sad monuments of folly.

What Momus was of old to Jove,
The same a Harlequin is now;
The former was buffoon above,
The latter as a Punch below.

This fleeting scene is but a stage,
Where various images appear;
In different parts of youth and age,
Alike the prince and peasant share.

Some draw our eyes by being great,
False pomp conceals mere wood within;

And legislators rang'd in state,

Are oft but wisdom in machine.

A stock may chance to wear a crowi,
And timber as a lord take place ;

A statue may put on a frown,

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, And 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 embitter'd by a Joan..

In short, whatever men pursue,

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

Alike they dress, they talk, they move.

Go on, great Stretch, with artful hand,
Mortals to please and to deride;
And, when death breaks thy vital band,
Thou shalt put on a puppet's pride.

Thou shalt in puny wood be shown,
Thy image shall preserve thy fame :
Ages to come thy worth shall own,

Point at thy limbs, and tell thy name.

Tell Tom, he draws a farce in vain,
Before he looks in nature's glass;
Puns cannot form a witty scene,
Nor pedantry for humour pass.

To make men act as senseless wood,
And chatter in a mystic strain,
Is a mere force on flesh and blood,
And shows some 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 confest the greater fool.

THE GRAND QUESTION DEBATED.

WHETHER HAMILTON'S BAWN SHOULD BE TURNED INTO A BARRACK OR A MALT-HOUSE.-1729.

THUS spoke to my lady the knight full of care, "Let me have your advice in a weighty affair. This Hamilton's bawn, while it sticks in my hand, I lose by the house what I get by the land; But how to dispose of it to the best bidder, For a barrack‡ or malthouse, we now must consider. First, let me suppose I make it a malthouse, Here I have computed the profit will fall t' us: There's nine hundred pounds for labour and grain, I increase it to twelve, so three hundred remain ; A handsome addition for wine and good cheer, Three dishes a day, and three hogsheads a year; With a dozen large vessels my vault shall be stor❜d; No little scrub joint shall come on my board; And you and the dean no more shall combine To stint me at night to one bottle of wine; Nor shall I, for his humour, permit you to purloin A stone and a quarter of beef from my sir-loin. If I make it a barrack, the crown is my tenant; My dear, I have ponder'd again and again on't: In poundage and drawbacks I lose half my rent, Whatever they give me, I must be content,

* Sir Arthur Acheson, at whose seat this was written. F. A large old house, two miles from Sir Arthur's seat. F.

The army in Ireland was lodged in strong buildings, called barracks, which have lately been introduced into this country likèwise. H.

Or join with the court in every debate;

And rather than that, I would lose my estate."
Thus ended the knight: thus began his meek wife:
"It must, and it shall be a barrack, my life.
I'm grown a mere mopus; no company comes,
But a rabble of tenants, and rusty dull rums.*
With parsons what lady can keep herself clean?
I'm all over daub'd when I sit by the Dean.
But if you will give us a barrack, my dear,
The captain, I'm sure, will always come here;
I then shall not value his deanship a straw,
For the captain, I warrant, will keep him in awe;
Or, should he pretend to be brisk and alert,
Will tell him that chaplains should not be so pert;
That men of his coat should be minding their prayers
And not among ladies to give themselves airs."

Thus argued my lady, but argued in vain;
The knight his opinion resolv'd to maintain:
But Hannah,† who listen'd to all that was past,
And could not endure so vulgar a taste,
As soon as her ladyship call'd to be drest,
Cry'd, "Madam, why surely my master's possest
Sir Arthur the maltster! how fine it will sound!.
I'd rather the bawn were sunk under ground..
But, madam, I guess'd there would never come good,
When I saw him so often with Darby and Wood.‡
And now my dream's out; for I was a-dream'd
That I saw a huge rat-O dear, how I scream'd!
And after, methought, I had lost my new shoes;
And Molly, she said, I should hear some ill news.

* A cant word in Ireland for a poor country clergyman. F. My lady's waiting woman. B.

Two of Sir Arthur's managers. F