how Mahomet used to have his fhoulder of mutton dressed: I have heard he was a great lover of that joint; and that a maid of an inn poisoned him with one, faying, "If he is a prophet he will discover it; if "he is an impoftor no matter what becomes of him." I fhall have occafion for the affiftance of all my friends in this great work. I fome posts ago defired a friend to enquire what manuscripts Sol Harding, a famous Cook, may have left behind him at Oxford. He fays he finds among his executors feveral admirable bills of fare for Ariftotle fuppers, and entertainments of country strangers, with certain prices, according to their feveral feasons. He fays fome pages have large black croffes drawn over them, but for the greater part the books are fair and legible.

Sir, I would beg you to fearch Cook's Hall what manufcripts they may have in their archieves. See what in Guildhall; what account of custard in the Swordbearer's office; how many tun he, a common erier, or a common hunt, may eat in their lifetime. But I tranfgrefs the bounds of a letter, and have strayed from my subject, which should have been to beg you to read the following lines when you are inclined to be most favourable to your friend, for else they will never be able to endure your juft cenfure. I rely upon your good nature, and I am

Your moft obliged, e

LETTER VI. TO MR.

DEAR SIR,

I HAVE reflected upon the discourse I had with you the other day, and upon ferious confideration find that the true understanding of the whole Art of Cookery will be useful to all perfons that pretend to the belles lettres, and especially to poets.

I do not find it proceeds from any enmity of the Cooks, but it is rather the fault of their masters, that poets are not fo well acquainted with good eating as otherwise they might be if oftener invited. However, even in Mr. D'Urfey's prefence this I would be bound to say, that a good dinner is brother to a good poem; only it is fomething more substantial, and between two and three o'clock more agreeable.

I have known a fupper make the most diverting part of a comedy. Mr Betterton in The Libertine has fat very gravely with the leg of a chicken; but I have feen Jacomo very merry, and eat very heartily of peafe and buttered eggs under the table. The Host in The Villaint, who carries tables, ftools, furniture, and provisions, all about him, gives great content to the fpectators when from the crown of his hat he produces his cold capon: so Armarillis (or rather Par

* A tragedy by Thomas Shadwell, acted 1676. A tragedy by Thomas Porter, acted 1663.

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thenope, as I take it) in The Rehearsal, with her wine in her spear and her pie in her helmet, and the Cook that flobbers his beard with fack poffet in The Man's The Mafter, have in my opinion made the most diverting part of the action. These embellishments we have received from our imitation of the ancient poets. Horace in his Satires makes Mæcenas very merry with the recollection of the unusual entertainments and dishes given him by Nafidienus, and with his raillery upon garlick in his third epode. The supper of Petronius, with all its machines and contrivances, gives us the most lively description of Nero's luxury. Juvenal spends a whole fatire about the price and dreffing of a single fish, with the judgment of the Roman Senate concerning it. Thus whether ferious or jocofe good eating is made the subject and ingredient of poetical entertainments.

I think all poets agree that episodes are to be interwoven in their poems with the greatest nicety of art; and fo it is the fame thing at a good table: and yet I have feen a very good episode (give me leave to call it fo) made by fending out the leg of a goose or the gizzard of a turkey to be broiled; though I know that criticks with a good stomach have been offended that the unity of action should be so far broken. And yet as in our plays fo at our common tables many epifodes are allowed, as flicing of cucumbers, dreffing of

A comedy by Sir William Davenant, acted 1669.

fallads, feafoning the infide of a firloin of beef, breaking lobsters' claws, ftewing wild ducks, toasting of cheese, legs of larks, and several others.

A poet who by proper expreffions and pleafing images is to lead us into the knowledge of neceffary truth may delude his audience extremely, and indeed barbaroufly, unless he has fome knowledge of this Art of Cookery, and the progress of it. Would it not found ridiculous to hear Alexander The Great command his cannon to be mounted, and to throw redhot bullets out of his mortarpieces? or to have Statira talk of tapestry hangings, which all the learned know were many years after her death first hung up in the hall of King Attalus? Should Sir John Falftaff complain of having dirtied his filk stockings, or Anne of Boleyn call for her coach, would an audience endure it, when all the world knows that Queen Elizabeth was the first that had her coach or wore filk stockings! Neither can a poet put hops in an Englishman's drink before heresy came in; nor can he ferve him with a dish of carp before that time: he might as well give King James I. a dish of asparagus upon his first coming to London, which were not brought into England till many years after; or make Owen Tudor prefent Queen Catharine with a sugarloaf; whereas he might as easily have given her a diamond as large, feeing the iceing of cakes at Wood street corner, and the refining of sugar, was but an inven

tion of two hundred years standing; and before that time our ancestors sweetened and garnished all with honey, of which there are some remains in Windfor bowls, baron bracks, and large fimnels, fent för prefents from Litchfield.

But now, on the contrary, it would fhew his reading if the poet put a hen turkey upon a table in a tragedy, and therefore I would advise it in Hamlet instead of their painted trifles; and I believe it would give more fatisfaction to the actors. For Diodorus Siculus reports how the fifters of Meleager or Diomedes, mourning for their brother, were turned into hen turkeys; from whence proceeds their statelinefs of gate, refervedness in conversation, and melancholy in the tone of their voice and all their actions. But this would be the most improper meat in the world for a comedy; for melancholy and diftrefs require a different fort of diet as well as language: and I have heard of a fair lady that was pleafed to say, “that if "fhe were upon a strange road, and driven to great "neceffity, fhe believed the might for once be ableto fup upon a fackpoffet and a fat capon."

I am sure poets as well as Cooks are for having all words nicely chofen and properly adapted; and therefore I believe they would fhew the same regret that I do to hear perfons of some rank and quality fay, "Pray cut up that goofe; help me to fome of that "chicken, hen, or capon, or half that plover:" not