AS a true bred Mastiff walks with Patience thro a Country Town, each whifling Cur, in Emu­lation of his Greatness, runs Yelping at his heels, till at last provoked by the insolence of some forward Mungril, who being Ignorant of his Strength, and thoughtless of his Courage, attempts to bite him by the Breech, which occasions the disdainful Animal to turn back his Head and Grin; and when with Contempt he has view'd his feeble Adversary, he holds up his Leg and Scorn­fully Pisses upon his Trembling Assailant.

With as little Concern have I endur'd the Petulent Snarls, and envious Reproaches of some Deminitive Scrib­lers till now, without so much as showing them my Teeth.

But a Scurrilous Preface, by an Unmannerly Sauce-box, to a naked piece of Plagiarism, published under the Title of A Trip to Holland, I confess hath mov'd me, not only to do my Self, but the World this Justice.

As for the matter contain'd in his Ill-bred Pamphlet, (so very Scandalous by its unseasonable Applycation) it is Stolen from Mr. Feltham Word for word; and is call'd by him, Three Weeks Observation upon the Low Countrys; and may be found, annex'd to his Resolves, in any Book­sellers-shop in Town.

Therefore the PUPPY his Chap (as his well-bred Author calls him in his unsavory Preface, which is of a far more Beastly Composition than his Dutchman) might have had so much respect for his Prince's Country, or that honesty towards the Publick, and have us'd that manners to a Gen­tleman, as not to have show'd himself, by his publication of a paultery piece of Bombast, so very Impudent in the face of Authority, so Knavish to the World, and Rude to a Stranger.

I am sorry a Man who deals in Books should discover his Wit to be so little, or his Necessity so great, as to force him to the use of such unpracticable Measures, which every Prudent Author ought to Condemn, and every Honest Bookseller Detest.

Tho' the little shallow-brain'd Lampooneer (who could never before now extend his Mushroon Fancy above Balla­dian height) hath foolishly suffer'd himself, in a Dtunken Freak, to be carry'd beyond his Tallent; and venture, like an unskilful Swimmer, to wade out of his depth at his own peril: Yet, I thought, the Bookseller might have had more wit, than to Record himself such a PUPPY in Print; and lend himself to his Author, to use him as the worst piece of Rubbish of which he has compos'd his Dunghill of Reflections. I must confess, till now, I could not think there was such a Cocks-comb of the Trade.

The Author, in his filthy Quagmire of Nonsense, sup­poses the West-India Poet to be a Transport Fellon: But I am sure the Dutch Observator, in his pretended Trip to Holland, (patch'd up of as many bits and snips, and appears of as many Colours as a Fools Jacket) hath openly commit­ted such a shameful piece of Theft, that he deserves Tran­sportation into an Island of Fools, where he should have no oppertunity of playing the Ape with any above the Curse of his own Capacity.

I would advise him for the future, to confine his Scurri­lous and Obscene Dialect within its proper bounds; and never presume to attempt any thing beyond a Bloody Murther, Bawdy Ballad, or a Last Dying Speech and Confession. And I must needs take the liberty of giving him this Caution, Un­less he wipes the Bird-lime off his Fingers, that they may no more stick to a Silver Tankard, or draw Books after them into Duck-Lane, to the disgrace of his Family, and scandal of the Purchasers, he may chance to fall into the hands of as scurvy a Poetaster as himself; and become the lamentable Subject of a doleful Ditty.

I hear, within two or three days, there will an Answer be Publish'd, as a check to his upstart Insolence. Who it is that thinks it worth their Labour I know not: I declare to the World it's none of mine, for I shall give my self no other trouble than this, without a further Provocation: But assure the Bookseller I'll not forget his kindness; and as for the Author, if this gentle Correction mend not his manners, the next shall be a Cudgel.