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what is worse, I have never confidered whether any one would read. Nay, I have been fo very bad as to defign to reprint; but then a wicked thought came across me, with "Who will buy ?" For, if I tell you the title, you will be of my mind, that the very name will deftroy it: "The "Art of Cookery, in imitation of Horace's Art "of Poetry; with fome familiar Letters to Dr. "Lifter and others, occafioned principally by the "Title of a Book, published by the Doctor, cons "cerning the Soups and Sauces of the Ancients." To this a beau will cry," Phough! what have I "to do with kitchen stuff?" To which I answer, "Buy it, and give it to your fervants." For I hope to live to fee the day when every miftrefs of a family, and every steward fhail call up their children and fervants, with, "Come, Mifs Betty, "how much have you got of your Art of Cook"ery?"-- Where did you leave off, Mifs Ifabel." "Mifs Kitty, are you no farther than King Henry and the Miller?"-"Yes, Madam, I ant

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come to

-His name fhall be enroll'a "In Efcourt's book, whofe gridiron's fram'd of gold."

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Pray, mother, is that our Master Escourt ?"-
"Well, child, if you mind this, you fhall not be

put to your Affembly Catechifm next Saturday." What a glorious light it will be, and how becoming a great family, to fee the butler out-learning the fteward, and the painful fcullery-maid exert

The image (which is the great perfection of a pet) is fo extremely lively, and well painted, hat methinks I fee the whole audience with a difh f buttered eggs in one hand, and a woodcockye in the other. I hope I may be excufed, after great an example; for I declare i have no degn but to encourage learning, and am very far rom any defigns against it. And therefore I hopeing her memory far beyond the mumping houfeHe worthy gentleman, who faid that the "Journey to London" ought to be burnt by the common angman, as a book, that, if received, would difourage ingenuity, would be pleased not to make is bonfire at the upper end of Ludgate-ftreet, for ear of endangering the bookfellers' fhops and the Cathedral.

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I AM no great lover of writing more than I am forced to, and therefore have not troubled you. with my letters to congratulate your good fortune in London, or to bemoan our unhappiness in the lofs of you here, The occafion of this is, to defire your affiftance in a matter that I am fallen into by the advice of fome friends; but, unless they help me, it will be impoffible for me to get out of it. I have had the misfortune to-write; but,

Some critics read it chair.

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keeper! I am told, that, if a book is any thing ufeful, the rinters have a way of pirating on one another, and printing other perfons' copies; which is very barbarous. And then shall I be forced to come out with "The true Art of Cookery is only to be had at Mr. Pindar's, a patten-maker's, under St. Dunstan's Church, with the Au"thor's feal at the title page, being throe fauce66 pans, in a bend proper, on a cook's apron, argent. Beware of counterfeits." And be forced to put out advertisements, with " Strops for razors, and the beft fpectacles are to be had only at the Archimedes, &c.".

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I defign propofals, which I must get delivered to the Cooks' Company, for the making an order that every apprentice hall have the " Art of Cookery" when he is bound, which he shall fay by heart before he is made free; and then he shall have Dr. Lifter's book of "Soups and Sauces" delivered to him for his future practice. you know better what I am to do than I. For the kindnels you may thew me, I fhall always endeavour to make what returns lay in my power. I am yours, &c.

DEAR SIR,

LETTER VIII.
To Mr.

But

I CANNOT but recommend to your perufal a late exquifite comedy, called "The Lawyer's For

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In the fecond act, Valentine, Mrs. Bonona's fon, the confummate character of the play, hav ing in the first act loft his hawk, and confequently his way, benighted, and loft, and fecing a light in a diflant boufe, comes to the thrifty widow Furiofu's (which is exactly according to the rule, "A prince, "who in a foreft rides aftray.") where be finds the old gentlewoman carding, the fair Florida ber daughter, working on a parchment, whilft the maid is Spinning. Peg reaches a chair; fack is called for; and, in the mean time, the god old gentlewoman complains fo of rogues, that he can fearce keep a goofe or a turkey in fafety, for them. Then Florida enters, with a little white bottle, about a pint, and an old fafeioned glafs, fills, and gives ber mother; fhe driks to Valentine, be to Florida, jie to him again, be to Furiofa, who fets it down on the table. After a Small time, the old lady cries, "Well, it is my bed. "time; but my daughter will fhew you the way "to your's: for I know you would willingly be "in it." This was extremely kind! Now, upon her retirement, (fee the great judgment of the poet!) the being an old gentlewoman that went to bed, he fuits the following regale according to the age of the perfon. Had boys been put to bed, it had been proper to have laid the goofe to the "fire" but here it is otherwife; for, after fome intermediate difcourfe, he is invited to a repaft; when he modeftly excules himself with, Truly, "Madam, I have no ftomach to ary meat, but "to comply with you. You have, Madam, en"tertained me with all that is defirable already The lady tells him," cold fuper is better than "none" fo be fits at the table, offers to cat, but cannot. I am fure, Horace could not have pre

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pared himself more exactly; for (according to the rule, "A widow has cold pye.") though V lentine, being love-fick, could not eat, yet it wa his fault, and not the et's. But when Va tine is to return the civili y, and to invite Mad Furiofa, and Madam Florida, with other g company, to his mother, the hospitable L Bonora's (who, by the bye, had called for tw bottles of wine for Latitat her attorney), the affluence and dainties are to ap ear (according this verfe "Mangoes, Peta.go Champignon, Caveare"); and Mrs. Favourite, the hea keeper, makes, these most importa: t inquiries:

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"BON. What you will."

But, however magnificent the dinner might be, yet Mrs. Bonona, as the manner of f me certa is, makes her excufe for it, with, "Well, Ger men, can ye fpare a little time to take a furt "dinner? I promise you, it fhall not be long. It is very probable, though the author dat make any of the guests give a relation of it, Valentine, being a great sportsman might far the table with game and wild-fowl. Thet wa at least one phealant in the house, which Vac tine told his mother of the morning before "Madam, I had a good flight of a phelar "cock, that, after my hawk feized, made head a "if he would have fought; but my hawk plazed "him prefently." Now it is not real aable fuppofe, that, Vally lying abroad that night the old gentlewoman under that concern would have any ftomach to it for her own fupper Howeve to see the fate of things, there is nothing perm nent; for one Mrs Candia making (though cently) a prefent of an hawk to Valentine, Fl da, his mistrefs, grows jeal us, and refolves 20 leave him and run away with an odd fur 4 Ek low, one Major Sly. Valentine, to appease h fends a meffage to her by a boy, who tells her, "His mafter, to fhew the trouble he took by t "mifapprehenfion, had fent her fome vás "tokens, the hawk torn to pieces with his ot "hands;" and thin pulls out of the basket the way and legs of a fowl. So we fee the P r bir libed, and all hopes of wild-fowl deftroyed for the future and happy were it, if misfortunes wood ftop here. But, the cruel beauty refuling to be appeafed, Valentine takes a fudden refo which he communicates to Let-acre the few to brufb of, and quit bis babitation H went 2 was, whether Let-acre did not think his yea mafter real, and Valentine having threatened Dis housekeeper to kick her immediately before f being too fond of him, and his boy being raw and unexp rienced in travelling, 1 made but flender provifion for their expect, for there is but one fcene interpofed, but we find diftrefled Valentine in the mud mirad

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ition that the joint Arts of Poetry and Cookare able to reprefent him. There is a fcene he greatest horror, and moft moving to comn, of any thing that I have feen amongst the ernis: "Talks of no pyramids of fowl, or fksf fish," is nothing to it; for here we fee nnotent perfon, unless punifhed for his mo's and housekeeper's extravagance, as was faid re, in their mushrooms, mangoes, bamboons hup, and anchovies, reduced to the extremity ating his cheese without bread, and having no er drink but water For he and bis boy, with fadiles on bis back and wallet, came into a walk onfifed trees, where an owl bollores, a bear and =rd walk across the defert at a diftance, and yet venture in; where Valentine accofts his boy thefe lines, which would draw tears from thing that is not marble:

lang up thy wallet on that tree,

nd creep thou in this hollow place with me; ( et's here repofe our wearied limbs till they ( 66 more wearied be!

Boy. There is nothing left in the wallet but ne piece of cheese. What fhall we do for read?

VAL. When we have flept, we will feek out "Some roots that fhall supply that doubt.

"be a nurse, a tender nurse, to him." Nor do bleffings come alone; for the good mother, having refreshed him with warm baths, and kept bim tenderly in the boufe, orders Favourite, with repeated injunctions, "to get the best entertainment the ever 66 yet provided, to confider what he has and "what he wan's, and to get all ready in few "hours." And fo this moft regular work is concluded with a dance and a wedding-dinner. I cannot believe there was any thing ever more of a piece than the comedy. Some perfons may admire your meagre tragedies; but give me a play where there is a profpect of good meat or good wine ftirring in every act of it.

Though I am confident the Author had written this Play and printed it long before the "Art "of Cookery" was thought of, and I had never read it till the other Poem was very nearly perfected; yet it is admirable to see how a true rule will be adapted to a good work, or a good work to a true rule. I should be heartily glad, for the fake of the public, if our Poets, for the future, would make use of fo good an example. I doubt not but, whenever you or 1 write Comedy, we fhall obferve it.

I have juft now met with a surprising happiness; a Friend that has feen two of Dr. Lifter's Works, one "De Buccinis Fluviatilibus et Marinis Ex"ercitatio," an Exercitation of Sea and River Shell-fish in which, he fays, fome of the chiefeft rarities are the pizzle and fpermatic veffels of a

Boy. But no drink, Master? VAL. Under that rock a spring I fee, "Which fhall refresh my thirst and Snail, delineated by a microfcope, the omentum or

"thee."

o the act closes; and it is difmal for the audi-
: to confider how Valentine and the poor boy,
, it feenis, had a coming ftomach, fhould con-
e there all the time the mufic was playing,
longer. But, to cafe them of their pain, by
invention which the poets call catastrophe, Va-
ine, though with a long beard, and very weak
h fafting, is reconciled to Florida, who, em-
ing him, fays, "I doubt I have offended him
10 much; but I will attend him home, cherish
im with cordials, make him broths," (poor
d-natured creature! I wifh fhe had Dr. Lif-
s book to help her!)" anoint his limbs, and

caul of its throat, its Fallopian tube, and its fubcrocean tefticle; which are things Hippocrates, Galen, Celfus, Farnelius, and Harvey, were never matters of. The other curiofity is the admirable piece of Calius Apicius, "De Opfoniis et Condi"mentis, five Arte Coquinaria, Libri decem," being Ten Books of Soups and Sauces, and the Art of Cookery, as it is excellently printed for the Doctor, who in this fo important affair is not fufficiently communicative. My Friend fays, he has makes I fhall not be envious of, but impart te a promife of leave to read it. What Remarks he him I love as well as his

Moft humble fervant, &c.

THE ART OF COOKERY,

IN IMITATION OF

HORACE'S ART OF POETRY.

TO DR. LISTER.

INGENIOUS LISTER, were a picture drawn
With Cynthia's face, but with a neck like brawn;
With wings of Turkey, and with feet of calf;
Though drawn by Kneller, it would make you
laugh!

Such is, good Sir, the figure of a feaft,

By fome rich farmer's wife and fifter dreft;
Which, were it not for plenty and for steam,
Might be refembled to a fick man's dream,
Where all ideas huddling run fo fast,
That fyllabubs come firít, and foups the laft.
Not but that cooks and poets still were free,
To use their power in nice variety;

Hence, mackarel feem delightful to the eyes,
Though drefs'd with incoherent goofeberries.
Crabs, falmon, lobsters, are with Fennel fpread,
Who never touch'd that herb till they were dead;
Yet no man lards falt pork with orange peel,
Or garnishes his lamb with fpitchcock'd eel.

A cook perhaps has mighty things profefs'd,
Then fent up but two difhes nicely drefs'd:
What fignify Scotch-collops to a feast?

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Or you can make whipp'd cream; pray what relief
Will that be to a failor who wants beef;
Who, lately fhipwreck'd, never can have ease,
Till re-establish'd in his pork and pease?
When once begun, let industry ne'er cease
Till it has render'd all things of one piece:
At your defert bright pewter comes too late,
When your first courfe was all ferv'd up in plate.
Moft knowing Sir! the greatest part of cooks,
Searching for truth, are cozen'd by its looks.
One would have all things little; hence has tried
'Turkey-poults fresh'd, from th' egg in batter fried:

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Others, to fhew the largenefs of their foul,
Prepare you muttons swol'd, and oxen whole.
To vary the fame things, fome think is art:
By larding of hogs-feet and bacon-tart,
The tafte is now to that perfection brought,
That care, when wanting fkill, creates the fast,
In Covent-Garden did a tailor dwell,
Who might deferve a place in his own hell.
Give him a fingle coat to make, he'd do't;
A vest, or breeches, fingly: but the brute
Could ne'er contrive all three to make a fuit:
Rather than frame a fupper like fuch clothes,
I'd have fine eyes and teeth, without my nok.

You that from pliant pafte would fabrics rast, Expecting thence to gain immortal praife, Your knuckles try, and let your finews know Their power to knead, and give the farm dough;

Choose your materials right, your feasoning £1, And with your fruit refplendent fugar mix: From thence of course the figure will arile, And elegance adorn the furface of your pies.

Beauty from order fprings: the judging eft Will tell you if one fingle plate's awry, The cook muft ftill regard the prefent time; T' omit what's jutt in feafon is a crime. Your infant peafe t' afparagus prefer, Which to the fupper you may best defer. Be cautious how you change old bills of fare, Such alterations fhould at least be rare; Yet credit to the artist will accrue, Who in known things ftill makes th' appearate" Fresh dainties are by Britain's traffic known, And now by conftant ufe familiar grown.

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What lord of old would bid his cook prepare
Mangues, potargo, champignons, caveare
Ir would our thrum-capp'd ancestors find fault,
or want of fugar-tongs, or fpoons for falt?
lew things produce new words, and thus Monteth
las by one veffel fav'd his name from death.
he feafons change us all. By Autumn's froft,
he fhady leaves of trees and fruit are lost.
ut then the Spring breaks forth with fresh supplies,
nd from the teeming earth new buds arise.
oftubble-geefe at Michaelmas are seen
pon the fpit; next May produces green.
he fate of things lies always in the dark:
That cavalier would know St. James's Park?
or Locket's ftands where gardens once did fpring;
nd wild-ducks quack where grasshoppers did fing;
princely palace on that space does rife,
There Sedley's noble Mufe found mulberries t
nce places alter thus, what conftant thought
f filling various difhes can be taught?
or he pretends too much, or is a fool,
Tho'd fix thofe things where fashion is a rule.
King Hardicnute, midst Danes and Saxons ftout,
arouz'd in nut-brown ale, and din'd on grout;
Thich dish its priftine honour ftill retains,
nd, when each prince is crown'd, in fplendour
reigns.

By northern cuftom, duty was expref-'d,
o friends departed, by their funeral feast.
hough I've confuited Holinfhed and Stow,.
find it very difficult to know

Tho, to refresh th' attendants to a grave,
ernt-claret first or Naples-bifcuit gave.
Trotter from quince and apples first did frame
pye, which still retains his proper name :
hough common grown, yet, with white fugar
ftrow'd,

nd butter'd right, its goodness is allow'd.

As wealth flow'd in, and plenty sprang from peace,

pod-humour reign'd, and pleasures found increase.
Twas ufual then the banquet to prolong

y mufic's charm, and fome delightful fong;
There every youth in pleafing accents strove
o tell the fratagems and cares of love;
low fome fuccef-ful were, how others croft;
Then to the fparkling glass would give his toast,
Vhofe bloom did moft in his opinion fhine,
o relish both the mufic and the wine.
Why am I ftyl'd a cook, if I'm fo loth
To marinate my fish, or feafon broth,
Or fend up what I roaft with pleasing froth;
I my mafter's gulo won't discern,

But, through my bafhful folly, fcorn to learn?
When among friends good humour takes its
birth,

Tis not a tedious feaft prolongs the mirth;

In the time of King Henry VIII. the park was a wild vet field; but that prince, on building St James's palace, nclofed it, laid it out in walks, and, collecting the waters ogether, gave to the new-enclofed ground and new-raifed building the name of St. James. It was much enlarged by Charles I.; who added to it feveral fields, planted it with rows of lime-trees, laid out the Mall, forined the canal, with a decoy, and other ponds, for water-fowl. † A comedy called, "The Mulberry Garden."

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But 'tis not reafon therefore you should spare,
When, as their future burgefs, you prepare
For a fat corporation and their mayor,
All things fhould find their room in proper place;
And what adorns this treat, would that disgrace.
Sometimes the vulgar will of mirth partake,
And have exceffive doings at their wake:
Ev'n tailors at their yearly feafts look great,
And all their cucumbers are turn'd to meat.
A prince, who in a forest rides aftray,
And, weary, to fone cottage finds the way,
Talks of no pyramids of fowl, or bifks of fish, [difh;
But, hungry, fups his cream ferv'd up in earthen
Quenches his thirft with ale in nur-brown bowls,
And takes the hafty rafher from the coals:
Pleas'd as King Henry with the miller free,
Who thought himself as good a man as he.

Unless fome fweetness at the bottom lie,
Who cares for all the crinkling of the pye?
If you would have me merry with your cheer,
Be fo yourself, or fo at least appear.

The things we eat by various juice control
The narrowness or largeness of our foul.
Onions will make ev'n heirs or widows weep;
The tender lettuce brings on fofter fleep;
Eat beef or pye-cruft if you'd serious be;
Your fhell-fifh raifes Venus from the fea;
For nature, that inclines to ill or good,
Still nourishes our paffions by our food.

Happy the man that has each fortune tried,
To whom the much has given, and much denied:
With abftinence all delicates he fees,
And can regale himself with toaft and cheese :

Your betters will defpife you, if they fee
Things that are far furpaffing your degree;
Therefore beyond your fubftance never treat;
"Tis plenty, in small fortune, to be neat.
'Tis certain that a steward can't afford
An entertainment equal with his Lord.
Old age is frugal; gay youth will abound
With heat, and fee the flowing cup go round.
A widow has cold pye; nurfe gives you cake;
From generous merchants ham or sturgeon take.
The farmer has brown bread as fresh as day,
And butter fragrant as the dew of May.
Cornwall fquab-pye, and Devon white-pot brings;
And Leicester beans and bacon, food of kings!

At Chriftnias-time, be careful of your fame,
See the old tenants' table be the fame;
Then, if you would fend up the brawner's head,
Sweet rosemary and bays around it spread :
His foaming tulks let fome large pippin grace,
Or midst those thundering spears an orange place;
Sauce like himself, offenfive to its foes,
The roguish mustard, dangerous to the nose.
Sack and the well-fpic'd hippocras the wine,
Waffail the bowl with ancient ribbands fine,
Porridge with plums, and turkeys with the
chine.

If you perhaps would try some dish unknown,
Which more peculiarly you'd make your own,
Like ancient failors ftill regard the coaft,
By venturing out too far you may be lost.
By rafting that which your forefathers boil'd,
And boiling what they roasted, much is fpoil'd.

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