it the first day in the year,—that is, in the middle of winter!a spring-velvet in the middle of winter!!! That would be a solecism indeed! and yet, to increase the inconsistence, in another part of your letter you call me a beau. Now, on one side or other, you must be wrong. If I am a beau, I can never think of wearing a spring-velvet in winter: and if I am not a beau, why then, that explains itself. But let me go on to your

two next strange lines :—

And bring with you a wig, that is modish and gay,
To dance with the girls that are makers of hay.'

The absurdity of making hay at Christmas you yourself seem sensible of: you say your sister will laugh; and so indeed she well may! The Latins have an expression for a contemptuous sort of laughter, Naso contemnere adunco; that is, to laugh with a crooked nose. She may laugh at you in the manner of the ancients if she thinks fit. But now I come to the most extraordinary of all extraordinary propositions, which is, to take your and your sister's advice in playing at loo. The presumption of the offer raises my indignation beyond the bounds of prose; it inspires me at once with verse and resentment. I take advice! and from whom? You shall hear.

First let me suppose, what may shortly be true,
The company set, and the word to be, Loo;

All smirking, and pleasant, and big with adventure,
And ogling the stake which is fix'd in the centre.

Round and round go the cards, while I inwardly damn,
At never once finding a visit from Pam.

I lay down my stake, apparently cool,

While the harpies about me all pocket the pool.
I fret in my gizzard, yet, cautious and sly,

ΤΟ

I wish all my friends may be bolder than I:
Yet still they sit snug, not a creature will aim,
By losing their money, to venture at fame.
'Tis in vain that at niggardly caution I scold,
'Tis in vain that I flatter the brave and the bold:
All play their own way, and they think me an ass.
'What does Mrs. Bunbury?' 'I, Sir? I pass.
'Pray what does Miss Horneck? Take courage, come

do.'

'Who, I? let me see, Sir, why I must pass too.'
Mr. Bunbury frets, and I fret like the devil,
To see them so cowardly, lucky, and civil.
Yet still I sit snug, and continue to sigh on,
Till made by my losses as bold as a lion,

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I venture at all; while my avarice regards
The whole pool as my own. 'Come, give me five cards.'
'Well done!' cry the ladies; Ah, Doctor, that's good!
The pool's very rich. Ah! the Doctor is loo'd!'
Thus foil'd in my courage, on all sides perplex'd,

I ask for advice from the lady that's next:
'Pray, Ma'am, be so good as to give your advice;
Don't you think the best way is to venture for 't twice?'
'I advise,' cries the lady, to try it, I own.

Ah! the Doctor is loo'd! Come, Doctor, put down.'
Thus, playing, and playing, I still grow more eager,
And so bold, and so bold, I'm at last a bold beggar.
Now, ladies, I ask, if law-matters you're skill'd in,
Whether crimes such as yours should not come before
Fielding?

For giving advice that is not worth a straw,

May well be call'd picking of pockets in law;

And picking of pockets, with which I now charge ye,
Is, by quinto Elizabeth, death without clergy.
What justice, when both to the Old Bailey brought!
By the gods, I'll enjoy it; though 'tis but in thought!
Both are plac'd at the bar, with all proper decorum,
With bunches of fennel, and nosegays before 'em ;
Both cover their faces with mobs and all that,
But the judge bids them, angrily, take off their hat.
When uncover'd, a buzz of inquiry runs round,—

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Pray what are their crimes?' They've been pilfering found.'

'But, pray, whom have they pilfer'd?' 'A Doctor, I

hear.'

'What, yon solemn-faced, odd-looking man that stands

near!'

'The same.'

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'What a pity! how does it surprise one! Two handsomer culprits I never set eyes on!' Then their friends all come round me with cringing and leering,

To melt me to pity, and soften my swearing.

First Sir Charles advances with phrases well strung,
'Consider, dear Doctor, the girls are but young.'
'The younger the worse,' I return him again,
It shows that their habits are all dyed in grain.'

'But then they're so handsome, one's bosom it grieves.'
'What signifies handsome, when people are thieves?'
'But where is your justice? Their cases are hard.'
'What signifies justice? I want the reward.

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'There's the parish of Edmonton offers forty pounds; there's

the parish of St. Leonard, Shoreditch, offers forty pounds; there's the parish of Tyburn, from the Hog-in-the-Pound to St. Giles' Watch-house, offers forty pounds,-I shall have all that if I convict them! '_

'But consider their case, it may yet be your own,

And see how they kneel; is your heart made of stone?'
This moves :-so at last I agree to relent,

For ten pounds in hand, and ten pounds to be spent.

I challenge you all to answer this: I tell you, you cannot. It cuts deep; but now for the rest of the letter: and next— but I want room-so I believe I shall battle the rest out at Barton some day next week.

I don't value you all!

O. G.

THE GOOD-NATUR'D MAN: A COMEDY

AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE ROYAL, IN COVENT-GARDEN

PREFACE

When I undertook to write a comedy, I confess I was strongly prepossessed in favour of the poets of the last age, and strove to imitate them. The term, genteel comedy was then unknown amongst us, and little more was desired by an audience, than nature and humour, in whatever walks of life they were most conspicuous. The author of the following scenes never imagined that more would be expected of him, and therefore to delineate character has been his principal aim. Those who know anything of composition, are sensible, that in pursuing humour, it will sometimes lead us into the recesses of the mean; I was even tempted to look for it in the master of a spunging-house: but in deference to the public taste, grown of late, perhaps, too delicate, the scene of the bailiffs was retrenched in the representation. In deference also to the judgment of a few friends, who think in a particular way, the scene is here restored. The author submits it to the reader in his closet; and hopes that too much refinement will not banish humour and character from ours, as it has already done from the French theatre. Indeed the French comedy is now become so very elevated and sentimental, that it has not only banished humour and Molière from the stage, but it has banished all spectators too.

Upon the whole, the author returns his thanks to the public for the favourable reception which The Good-Natur'd Man has met with: and to Mr. Colman in particular, for his kindness to it. It may not also be improper to assure any, who shall hereafter write for the theatre, that merit, or supposed merit, will ever be a sufficient passport to his protection.

PROLOGUE

WRITTEN BY DR. JOHNSON: SPOKEN BY MR. BENSLEY

Prest by the load of life, the weary mind

Surveys the general toil of human kind;

With cool submission joins the labouring train,
And social sorrow loses half its pain:

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Our anxious bard, without complaint, may share
This bustling season's epidemic care,
Like Cæsar's pilot, dignified by fate,

Tost in one common storm with all the great;
Distrest alike, the statesman and the wit,
When one a borough courts, and one the pit,
The busy candidates for power and fame

Have hopes, and fears, and wishes, just the same;
Disabled both to combat, or to fly,

Must hear all taunts, and hear without reply.
Uncheck'd on both, loud rabbles vent their rage,
As mongrels bay the lion in a cage.
Th' offended burgess hoards his angry tale,
For that blest year when all that vote may rail ;
Their schemes of spite the poet's foes dismiss,
Till that glad night, when all that hate may hiss.
This day the powder'd curls and golden coat,
Says swelling Crispin, begg'd a cobbler's vote.
This night our wit, the pert apprentice cries,
Lies at my feet, I hiss him, and he dies.

The great, 'tis true, can charm th' electing tribe;
The bard may supplicate, but cannot bribe.
Yet judg'd by those, whose voices ne'er were sold,
He feels no want of ill-persuading gold;
But, confident of praise, if praise be due,
Trusts without fear, to merit, and to you.

ΙΟ

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