on which, Mr. Powell was so
disingenuous, as to make one of his puppets (I wish I knew which of them
it was) declare by way of prologue, that one Isaac Bickerstaff, a
pretended esquire, had wrote a scurrilous piece to the dishonour of that
rank of men; and then, with more art than honesty, concluded, that all
the esquires in the pit were abused by his antagonist as much he was.
This public accusation made all the esquires of that county, and several
of other parts, my professed enemies. I do not in the least question but
that he will proceed in his hostilities; and I am informed, that part of
his design in coming up to town was to carry the war into my own
quarters. I do therefore solemnly declare (notwithstanding that I am a
great lover of art and ingenuity) that if I hear he opens any of his
people's mouths against me, I shall not fail to write a critique upon
his whole performance; for I must confess, that I have naturally so
strong a desire of praise, that I cannot bear reproach, though from a
piece of timber. As for Punch, who takes all opportunities of
bespattering me, I know very well his original, and have been assured by
the joiner who put him together, that he was in long dispute with
himself, whether he should turn him into several pegs and utensils, or
make him the man he is. The same person confessed to me, that he had
once actually laid aside his head for a nutcracker. As for his scolding
wife (however she may value herself at present), it is very well known
that she is but a piece of crabtree. This artificer further whispered in
my ear, that all his courtiers and nobles were taken out of a quickset
hedge not far from Islington; and that Dr. Faustus himself, who is now
so great a conjurer, is supposed to have learned his whole art from an
old woman in that neighbourhood, whom he long served in the figure of a
broomstaff.

But perhaps it may look trivial to insist so much upon men's persons; I
shall therefore turn my thoughts rather to examine their behaviour, and
consider, whether the several parts are written up to that character
which Mr. Powell piques himself upon, of an able and judicious
dramatist. I have for this purpose provided myself with the works of
above twenty French critics, and shall examine (by the rules which they
have laid down upon the art of the stage) whether the unity of time,
place and action, be rightly observed in any one of this celebrated
author's productions; as also, whether in