My Bookseller informs me, that the bulk of his

Readers, regarding in a work of this kind the Quantity more than the Quality, will not be contented without an additional half-sheet; and he apprehends that a fhort Dedication will answer the purpose.

But as I have no obligations to any great man or woman in this country, and as I will take care that no production of mine fhall want their patronage, I don't know any person whose good offices I so much stood in need of as my Bookseller's: Therefore, Mr. VAILLANT, I think myself obliged to you for the correctness of the Press, the beauty of the Type, and the goodness of the Paper, with which you have decorated this work of

Your humble Servant,

Pall-Mall, April 21, 1753.

SAM. FOOTE.

BETWEEN

MR. MACKLIN AND HIS WIFE.

She.

To contradict me!-Blockhead! Ideot! Fool! Sot!
He. But amidft these hard names, our dispute is forgot.
To contradict you I know is high-treason;

For the will of a wife is always her reason.

She. No, sir, for once, I'll give up my pretension,

And submit to the Pit our cause of dissention.

He. I agree; for the Pit is our natural lord.

LADIES,

She. Hey! How come you to claim the first word? GENTLEMEN, my husband and I have had a difpute, Where the difference lies 'twixt a man and a brute;

Which we beg, whilst the folks for the farce are preparing,
You would please to decide, and give us the hearing.
-Hem! Hem!-

After Plutarch of Rome! and Virgil of Greece!
And Iliads, and Eniends, and authors like these ;
I boldly affirm, deny it who can,

That in laughter consists the true essence of man:
Whilst my husband-

He.

Nay, pray let me state my own case,
And I'll make it as clear as the nose in your face,
That hissing in man preserves the first place.

To begin then with Critics:-'Tis their capital bliss,
Than to laugh-don't you find it more pleasing to hiss?
In this all agree;-Jews! Infidels! Turks!

}

She. I grant it, sweet sir,-if you mean at your works.

Yet even 'gainst that I've a potent objection;
For every rule still has its exception:

Tho' they hiss'd at your farces, your Pasquin, and stuff,
At your Tragedy sure they laugh'd hearty enough.
And again, Mr. Wiseman, regard the world round,
'Tis in mankind alone that laughter is found;
Whilst your favourite hissing, sage sir, if you please,
You enjoy but in common with serpents and geese.

She. And arn't you ashamed-('tis no time to dissemble,) O Critics! these creatures in this to resemble ?

He. Not a jot; in this place 'tis of singular use,
Of bad poets and players to reform the abuse.
In the practice, kind sirs! were I fit to advise,
The hissing like geese I would have you despise,
And copy the serpent,be subtle and wise,
But free from his venom.-

Is your judgment

She.

}

Well, sirs! what d'ye say?

Let us wait 'till the end of the play:

In the progress of that we shall easily find,

Whether laughing or hissing is most to their mind.

He. I'm sure they will hiss.

She. And I hope they'll be kind.

ENGLISHMAN IN PARIS.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Enter Mr. Subtle and Mr. Classic.

Mr. Subtle.

WELL, well, that may be; but still I say that

a Frenchman

Classic. Is a fop; it is their national disease; not one of the qualities for which you celebrate them, but owes its origin to a foible; their taste is trifling, their gaiety grimace, and their politeness pride.

Mr. Sub. Hey-dey! Why what the duce brings you to Paris then?

Class. A debt to Friendship; not but I think a short residence here a very necessary part in every man of fashion's education.

Mr. Sub. Where's the use?

Class. In giving them a true relish for their own domestic happiness, a proper veneration for their national liberties; a contempt for adulation; and an honour for the extended, generous commerce of their country.

Mr. Sub. Why there, indeed, you have the preference, master Classic; the traders here are a sharp set; cozening people; foreigners are their food; civilities with a-Aye! aye! a a congee for a crown, and a shrug for a shilling; devilish dear, master Classic, devilish dear.