render in banco regi the defendant, before the return of sci fa, to discharge the bail.

Crab. Prithee, mau, none of thy unintelligible law-jargon to me; but tell me, in the language of common sense and thy country, what I am to do?

Lat. Why, Mr Crab, as you are already possessed of a probat, and letters of administration de bonis are granted, you may sue or be sued. I hold it sound doctrine for no executor to discharge debts, without a receipt upon record; this can be obtained by no means but by an action. Now actions, sir, are of various kinds : There are special actions; actions on the case, or assumpsits; actions of trover; actions of clausum fregit; actions of battery, actions ofCrab. Hey, the devil, where's the fellow running now? But hark'e, Latitat, why I thought all our law-proceedings were directed to be in English?

Lat. True, Mr Crab.

Crab. And what do you call all this stuff, ha? Lat. English.

Crab. The devil you do!

Lat. Vernacular! upon my honour, Mr Crab. For as lord Coke describes the cominon law to be the perfection

Crab. So here's a fresh deluge of impertinence. A truce to thy authorities, 1 beg; and as I find it will be impossible to understand thee without an interpreter, if you will meet me at five, at Mr Brief's chambers, why, if you have any thing to say, he will translate it for me.

Lat. Mr Brief, sir, and translate, sir! Sir, I would have you to know, that no practitioner in Westminster-hall gives clearer——

Crab. Sir, I believe it-for which reason I have referred you to a man who never goes into Westminster-hall.

tat.

Lat. A bad proof of his practice, Mr Crab.
Crab. A good one of his principles, Mr Lati-

Lat. Why sir, do you think that a lawyerCrab. Zounds, sir! I never thought about a lawyer. The law is an oracular idol, you are the explanatory ministers; nor should any of my own private concerns have made me bow to your beastly Baal. I had rather lose a cause than contest it. And had not this old doating dunce, sir John Buck, plagued me with the management of his money, and the care of his booby boy, bedlam should sooner have had me than the bar. Lat. Bedlam! the bar! Since, sit, I am provoked, I don't know what your choice may be, or what your friends may choose for you: I wish I was your prochain ami: But I am under some doubts as to the sanity of the testator, otherwise be could not have chosen for his executor, under the sanction of the law, a person who despises the law. And the law, give me leave to tell you, Mr Crab, is the bulwark, the fence, the protection, the sine qua non, the ne plus ultra

Crab. Mercy, good six and eightpence! Lat. The defence, and offence, the by which, and the whereby, the statute common, and customary: or, as Plowden classically and elegantly expresses it, 'tis

Hæc tria jus statuunt terra Britannia tibi.

Mos commune vetus mores, consulta, senatus,

Crab. Zounds, sir, among all your laws, are there none to protect a man in his own house? Lat. Sir, a man's house is his castellum, his castle; and so tender is the law of any infringement of that sacred right, that any attempt to invade it by force, fraud, or violence, clandestinely, or vi et armis, is not only deemed felonious, but burglarious. Now, sir, a burglary may be committed, either upon the dwelling, or the cuthouse.

Crab. O lud! O lud!

Ser. My young master's travelling tutor, sir, just arrived.

Crab. Oh, then I suppose the blockhead of a baronet is close at his heels. Shew him in. This bear-leader, I reckon now, is either the clumsy curate of the knight's parish church, or some needy Highlander, the outcast of his country, who, with the pride of a German baron, the poverty of a French marquis, the address of a Swiss soldier, and the learning of an academy-usher, is to give our heir-apparent politeness, taste, literature-a perfect knowledge of the world, and of himself.

Enter MACRUTHEN.

Mac. Maister Crab, I am your devoted ser

vant.

Mac. O, the young baronet is o' the road. I was mighty afraid he had o'erta'en ine; for, between Canterbury and Rochester, I was stopt and robbed by a highwayman.

Crab. Robbed! What the devil could he rob you of?

Mac. In gude troth, not a mighty booty. Buchanan's history, Lauder against Melton, and twa pund of high-dried Glasgow.

Crab. A good travelling equipage! Well, and what's become of your cub? where have you left him?

Mac. Main you sir Charles? I left him at Calais, with another young nobleman returning from his travels. But why ca' ye him cub, Maister Crab? In gude troth, there's a meeghty alteration.

Crab. Yes, yes; I have a shrewd guess at his improvements.

Mac. He's quite a phenomenon.

Crab. Oh, a comet, I dare swear; but not an unusual one at Paris. The Fauxbourg of St. Germain's swarms with such, to the no small amusement of our very good friends the French. Mac. Oh, the French were mighty fond of him.

Crab. But as to the language, I suppose he's a perfect master of that?

Mac. He can caw for aught that he need; but he is na quite maister of the accent.

Crab. A most astonishing progress!

Mac. Suspend your judgment a while, and you'll find him all you wish, allowing for the sallies of juvenility; and I must take the vanity to myself of being, in a great measure, the

author.

Crab. Oh, if he be but a faithful copy of the admirable original, he must be a finished piece.

Mac. You are pleased to compliment.

Crab. Not a whit. Well, and what-I suppose you and your-What's your name? Mac. Macruthen, at your service.

Crab. Macruthen! Hum! You and your pupil agreed very well?

Mac. Perfectly. The young gentleman is of an amiable disposition.

Crab. Oh, ay; and it would be wrong to sour his temper. You know your duty better, I hope, than to contradict him?

Mac. It was na for me, Maister Crab. Crab. Oh, by no means, Mr Macruthen; all your business was to keep him out of frays; to take care, for the sake of his health, that his wine was genuine, and his mistresses as they should be. You pimped for him, I suppose?

Mac. Pimp for him! D'ye mean to affrontCrab. To suppose the contrary would be the affront, Mr Tutor. What, man, you know the world? 'Tis not by contradiction, but by com

Crab. Why, what a superlative rascal art thou, thou inhospitable villain! Under the roof, and in the presence, of thy benefactor's representative, with almost his ill-bestowed bread in thy mouth, art thou plotting the perdition of his only child! And from what part of my life didst thou derive a hope of my compliance with such a hellish scheme?

Mac. Maister Crab, I am of a nation

Crab. Of known honour and integrity---I allow it. The kingdom you have quitted, in consigning the care of its monarch, for ages, to your predecessors, in preference to its proper subjects, has given you a brilliant panegyric, that no other people can parallel.

Mac. Why, to se sure

Crab. And one happiness it is, that though national glory can beam a brightness on particulars, the crimes of individuals can never reflect a disgrace upon their country. Thy apology but aggravates thy guilt.

Mac. Why, Maister Crab, I

Crab. Guilt and confusion choak thy utterance! Avoid my sight! vanish! [Exit Mac.] A fine fellow this, to protect the person, inform the inexperience, direct and moderate the desires, of an unbridled boy! But can it be strange, whilst the parent negligently accepts a superficial recommendation to so important a trust, that the person, whose wants, perhaps, more than his abilities, make desirous of it, should consider the youth as a kind of property, and not study what to make him, but what to make of him; and thus prudently lay a foundation for his future sordid hopes, by a criminal compliance with the lad's present prevailing passions? But vice and folly rule the world-Without, there!

Enter Servant.

Rascal, where d'you run, blockhead? Bid the girl come hither.—Fresh instances, every moment, fortify my abhorrence, my detestation of mankind. This turn may be termed misanthropy, and imputed to chagrin and disappointment but it can only be by those fools who, through softness or ignorance, regard the faults of others, like their own, through the wrong end of the perspective.

Enter LUCINDA.

So, what, I suppose your spirits are all afloat? You have heard your fellow's coming?

Luc. If you had your usual discernment, sir, you would distinguish in my countenance an expression very different from that of joy.

Crab. Oh, what! I suppose your monkey has broke his chain, or your parrot died in moulting?

Luc. A person less censorious than Mr Crab, might assign a more generous motive for my dis

tress.

Crab. Distress! A pretty poetical phrase What motive can'st thou have for distress? Has not sir John Buck's death assured thy fortune? and art not thou

Luc. By that very means, a helpless, unprotected orphan.

Crab. Poh! prithee, wench, none of thy romantic cant to me. What, I know the sex the objects of every woman's wish arc property and power. The first you have, and the second you won't be long without; for here's a puppy riding post to put on your chains.

Luc. It would appear affectation not to understand you. And to deal freely, it was upon that subject I wished to engage you.

Crab. Your information was needless; I knew it.

Luc. Nay, but why so severe? I did flatter myself that the very warm recommendation of your deceased friend would have abated a little of that rigour.

Crab. No wheedling, Lucy. Age and contempt have long shut these gates against flattery and dissimulation. You have no sex for me. Without preface, speak your purpose.

Luc. What then, in a word, is your advice with regard to my marrying sir Charles Buck? Crab. And do you seriously want my advice? Luc. Most sincerely.

Crab. Then you are a blockhead! Why, where could you mend yourself? Is not he a fool, a fortune, and in love?-Look'e, girl.

Enter Servant.

Who, sent for you, sir?

broke down at the corner of the street by a coalcart. His clothes are all dirt, and he swears like a trooper.

Crab. Ay! Why, then, carry his chaise to the coach-maker's, his coat to a scowerer's, and him before a justice-Prithee, why dost trouble me? I suppose you would not meet your gallant?

Luc. Do you think I should?

Crab. No, retire. And if this application for my advice is not a copy of your countenance, a mask-if you are obedient, I may set you right.

tions,

Luc. I shall with pleasure follow your direc[Exit. Crab. Now we shall see what Paris has done for this puppy. But here he comes, light as the cork in his heels, or the feather in his hat.

Enter BUCK, LORD JOHN, LA LOIRE, BEARNOIS, and MACRUTHEN.

Buck. Not a word, mi Lor; jernie, it is not to be supported!-after being rompu tout vif, disjointed by that execrable pave, to be tumbled into a kennel by a filthy charbonnier, a dirty retailer of sea-coal, morbleu !

Lord John. An accident that might have happened any where, sir Charles.

Buck. And then the hideous hootings of that detestable canaille, that murtherous mob, with barbarous, Monsieur in the mud, huzza!' Ab, pais sauvage, barbare, inhospitable! Ah, ah, qu'est ce que nous avons? Who?

Mac. That is Maister Crab, your father's executor.

Buck. Ha, ha, Serviteur tres humble, Monsieur. Eh bien! What? is he dumb? Mac, mi Lor, mort de ma vie, the veritable Jack-roastbeef of the French Comedy. Ha, ha! how do you do, Monsieur Jack-roast-beef?

Crab. Prithee take a turn or two about the room.

Buck. A turn or two! Volontiers. Eh bien ! Well, have you, in your life, seen any thing so, ha, ha, hey?

Crab. Never. I hope you had not many spectators of your tumble?

Buck. Pourquoi? Why so?

Crab. Because I would not have the public curiosity forestalled. I can't but think, in a country so fond of strange sights, if you were kept up a little, you would bring a great deal of

money.

Buck. I don't know, my dear, what my person would produce in this country, but the counterpart of your very grotesque figure has been extremely beneficial to the comedians from whence I came. N'est-ce pas vrais, mi lor? Ha, ha! Lord John. The resemblance does not strike Perhaps I may seen singular; but the

me.

cule.

Buck. Why so?

rallel.

Crab. His wages, I suppose, are proportioned to his merit?

Crab. Why, there are some glimmerings of common sense about this young thing. Hark'e, child? by what accident did you stumble upon this blockhead?--[To Buck.] I suppose the fine of your understanding is too short to fathom the depth of your companion's reasoning? Buck. My dear!

[Gapes. Crab. I say you can draw no conclusion from the above premises.

Buck. Who, J? Damn your premises and conclusions too! But this I conclude, from what I have scen, my dear, that the French are the first people in the universe; that, in the arts of living, they do, or ought to give laws to the whole world; and that, whosoever would either eat, drink, dress, dance, fight, sing, or even succze, avec elegance, must go to Paris to learn it. This is my creed,

Crab. And these precious principles you are come here to propagate?

Buck. C'est vrai, Monsieur Crab: and, with the aid of these brother missionaries, I have no doubt of making a great many proselytes. And now for a detail of their qualities. Bearnois, avancez! This is an officer of my household, unknown to this country.

Crab. And what may he be?—I'll humour the puppy.

Buck. This is my Swiss porter. Tenez vous droit, Bearnois. There's a fierce figure to guard the gate of an hotel.

Crab. What, do you suppose that we have no porters?

Buck. Yes, you have dunces that open doors; a drudgery that this fellow does by deputy. But for intrepidity in denying a disagreeable visitor; for politeness in introducing a mistress; acuteness in discerning, and constancy in excluding, a dun, a greater genius never came from the

cantons.

Crab. Astonishing qualities!

Buck. Retirez, Bearnois. But here's a bijou, here's a jewel indeed! l'enez ici, mon cher La Loire. Comment trouvez vouz ce Paris ici? La Leire. Très bien.

Buck. Very well. Civil creature! This, Monsicur Crab, is my cook La Loire; and for hors d'autres, entre rotis, 1agoûts, entremets, and the

Crab. You could do no less.

Buck. And now, sir, to complete my equipage, regardez monsieur La Jonquil, my first valet de chambre, excellent in every thing; but, pour l'accommodage, for decorating the head, inimitable. In one word, La Jonquil shall, for fifty to five, knot, twist, tie, fricze, cut, curl, or comb, with any garçon perruquier, from the Land's-end to the Orkneys.

Crab. Why, what an infinite fund of public spirit must you have, to drain your purse, mortify your inclination, and expose your person, for the mere improvement of your countrymen!

Buck. Oh, I am a very Roman for that. But at present I had another reason for returning. Crab. Ay, what can that be?

Buck. Why, I find there is a likelihood of some little fracas between us. But, upon my soul, we must be very brutal to quarrel with the dear agreeable creatures for a trifle.

Crab. They have your affectious, then?

Buck. De tout mon cœur. From the infinite civility shown to us in France, and their friendly professions in favour of our country, they can never intend us an injury.

Crab. Oh, you have hit their humour to a hair! But I can have no longer patience with the puppy. Civility and friendship, you booby! Yes, their civility at Paris has not left you a guinea in your pocket, nor would their friendship to your nation leave it a foot of land in the universe.

Buck. Lord John, this is a strange old fellow! Take my word for it, my dear, you mistake this thing egregiously. But all you English are constitutionally sullen. November-fogs, with salt boiled beef, are most cursed recipes for good-humour, or a quick apprehension. Paris is the place! 'Tis there men laugh, love, and live. Vive l'amour! Sans amour, et sans ses desirs, un cœur est bien moins heureux quil ne pense.

Crab. Now, would not any soul suppose, that this yelping hound had a real relish for the country he has quitted?

Buck. A mighty unnatural supposition, truly!
Crab. Foppery and affectation all.

Buck. And do you really think Paris a kind of purgatory, ha, my dear?

Crab. To thee the most solitary spot upon earth, my dear.--Familiar puppy!

Buck. Whimsical enough. But come, pour passer le tems, let us, old Diogenes, enter into a little debate. Mi lor, and you, Macruthen, determine the dispute between that source of de

lights, ce paradis de plaisir, and this cave of care, this seat of scurvy and the spleen.

Mac. Let us heed them weel, my lord. Maister Crab has met with his match.

Buck. And first, for the great pleasure of life, the pleasure of the table: Ab, quelle difference! The ease, the wit, the wine, the badinage, the persistage, the double entendre, the chansons à boire! O what delicious moments have I passed chez madume la duchesse de Barbouliac!

Crab. Your mistress, I suppose? Buck. Who, I? Fi donc! How is it possible for a woman to have a penchant for me? Hey, Mac!

Mac. Sir Charles is too much a man of honour to blab. But, to say truth, the whole city of Paris thought as much.

Crab. A precious fellow this!

Buck. Taisez vous, Mac. But we lose the point in view. Now, monsieur Crab, let me conduct you to what you call an entertainment. And first: the melancholy mistress is fixed in her chair, where, by the by, she is condemned to do more drudgery than a dray-horse. Next proceeds the master to marshal the guests; in which as much caution is necessary as at a coronation; with, My lady, sit here,' and, sir Thomas, sit 'there;' till the length of the ceremony, with the length of the grace, have destroyed all apprehensions of the meat's burning your mouths. Mac. Bravo, bravo! Did I na say, sir Charles was a phenomenon?

Crab. Peace, puppy!

Buck. Then, in solemn silence, they proceed to demolish the substantials, with perhaps an occasional interruption of, Here's to you, friends;' Hob or nob;' Your love and mine.' Pork succeeds to beef, pyes to puddings. The cloth is removed. Madam, drenched with a bumper, drops a curtsey, and departs; leaving the jovial host, with his sprightly companions, to tobacco, port, and politics. Violà un repas à la mode d'Angleterre, monsieur Crab.

Crab. It is a thousand pities that your father is not a living witness of these prodigious improvements.

Buck. C'est vrai. But, à propos, he is dead, as you say, and you are

Crab. Against my inclination, his executor.
Buck. Peut-être; well, and-

Buck. Reject me! Very probable, hey, Mac? But could not we have an entrevue?

Crab. Who's there?-Let Lucinda know we expect her.

Mac. Had na ye better, sir Charles, equip yoursell in a more suitable garb upon a first visit to your mistress?

Crab. Oh, such a figure and address can derive no advantage from dress.

Buck. Serviteur. But, however, Mac's hint may not be so mal à propos. Allons, Jonquil, je m'en vais m'habiller. Mi lor, shall I trespass upon your patience? My toilette is but a work of ten minutes. Mac, dispose of my domestics a leur aise, and then attend me with my portfeuille, and read, while I dress, those reinarks I made in last voyage from Fountainbleu to Compeigne. Serviteur, messieurs.

Lord John. Do you suppose then, sir, that no good may be obtained

Crab. Why, prithee, what have you gained?

Lord John. I should be sorry my acquisitions were to determine the debate. But, do you think, sir, the shaking off some native qualities, and the being made more sensible, from comparison, of certain national and constitutional advantages, objects unworthy the attention?

Crab. You show the favourable side, young man: But how frequently are substituted for national prepossessions, always harmless, and often happy, guilty and unnatural prejudices? Unnatural! For the wretch who is weak and wicked enough to despise his country, sins against the

Buck. Ha, ha, la petite Lucinde! et com

ment

Crab. Prithee, peace, and hear mc. She is bequeathed conditionally, that if you refuse to marry her, twenty thousand pounds; and if she rejects you, which I suppose she will have the wisdom to do, only five.

the community where providence has placed him, and should be denied those social benefits he has rendered himself unworthy to partake. But sententious lectures are ill calculated for your time of life.

Lord John. I differ from you here, Mr Crab. Principles, that call for perpetual practice, cannot be too soon received. I sincerely thank