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A Learned Diſſertation ON DUMPLING; Its Dignity, Antiquity, and Excellence. With a Word upon PUDDING. AND Many other Uſeful Diſcoveries, of great Benefit to the Publick.

Quid Farto melius?
Huic ſuam agnoſcit corpus energiam,
Suam aciem mens:—
—Hinc adoleverunt praeſtantiſſimi,
Hi Fartophagi in Reipublicae commodum.
Maeb. de Fartophagis, lib. iii. cap. 2.

LONDON, Printed for J. Roberts in the Oxford-Arms-Paſſage, Warwick-lane; and Sold by the Bookſellers of London and Weſtminſter. 1726. [Price 6d.]

TO Mr. BRAUND.

[]
SIR,

LET Mercenary Authors flatter the Great, and ſubject their Principle to Intereſt and Ambition, I ſcorn ſuch ſorbid Views; You only are Eminent in my Eyes: On You I look as the moſt Uſeful Member in a Body-Politic, and your Art far ſuperior to all others: Therefore, ‘Tu mihi Mecaenas Eris!’

O BRAUND, my Patron! my Pleaſure! my Pride! diſdain not to grace my Labours with a kind Peruſal. Suſpend a-while your more momentous Cares, and condeſcend to taſte this little Fricaſſee of Mine.

I write not this, to Bite you by the Ear, (i. e.) flatter you out of a Brace or two of Guinea's: No; as I am a true Dumpling-Eater, my Views are purely Epicurean, and my utmoſt Hopes center'd in partaking of ſome elegant Quelque Choſe toſt up by your judicious Hand. I regard Money but as a Ticket which admits me to your Delicate Entertainments; to me much more Agreeable than all the Monkey-Tricks of Rival Harlequins, or Puppet-Show Finery of Contending Theatres.

The Plague and Fatique of Dependance and Attendance, which call me ſo often to the Court-end of [] the Town, were inſupportable, but for the Relief I find at AUSTIN's your Ingenious and Grateful Diſciple, who has adorn'd New Bond-ſtreet with your Graceful Effigies. Nor can he fail of Cuſtom, who has hung out a Sign ſo Alluring to all true Dumpling-Eaters. Many a time and oft have I gaz'd with Pleaſure on your Features, and trac'd in them the exact Lineaments of your glorious Anceſtor Sir JOHN BRAND, vulgarly call'd Sir JOHN PUDDING.

Tho' the Corruption of our Engliſh Orthography indulges ſome appearance of Diſtinction between BRAND and BRAUND, yet in Effect they are one and the ſame thing. The ancient Manor of BRAND's, alias BRAUND's, near Kilburn in Middleſex, was the very Manor-Houſe of Sir JOHN BRAND, and is call [...]d BRAND's to this Day, altho' at preſent it be in the Poſſeſſion of the Family of MARSH.

What Honours are therefore due to One who is in a Direct Male Line, an Immediate Deſcendant from the Loins of that Great Man! Let this teach You to value your Self; this remind the World, how much they owe to the Family of the BRAUNDS; more particularly to YOU, who inherit not only the Name, but the Virtues of your Illuſtrious Anceſtor. I am,

SIR,
With all imaginable Eſteem and Gratitude, Your very moſt Obedient Servant, &c.

Page 5. line 15, &c. for Barnes read Brand.

A Learned Diſſertation ON DUMPLING; Its Dignity, Antiquity, &c.

[1]

THE Dumpling-Eaters are a Race ſprung partly from the old Epicurean, and partly from the Peripatetic Sect; they were brought firſt into Britain by Julius Ceſar; and finding it a Land of Plenty, they wiſely reſolv'd never to go Home again. Their Doctrines are Amphibious, and compos'd Party per Pale of the two Sects before-mention'd; from the Peripatetics, they derive their Principle [2] of Walking, as a proper Method to digeſt a Meal, or create an Appetite; from the Epicureans, they maintain that all Pleaſures are comprehended in good Eating and Drinking: And ſo readily were their Opinions embrac'd, that every Day produc'd many Proſelytes; and their Numbers have from Age to Age increas'd prodigiouſly, inſomuch that our whole Iſland is over-run with them, at preſent. Eating and Drinking are become ſo Cuſtomary among us, that we ſeem to have entirely forgot, and laid aſide the old Faſhion of Faſting: Inſtead of having Wine ſold at Apothecaries Shops, as formerly, every Street has two or three Taverns in it, leaſt theſe Dumpling-Eaters ſhould faint by the Way; nay, ſo zealous are they in the Cauſe of Bacchus, that one of the Chief among 'em has made a Vow never to ſay his Prayers 'till he has a Tavern of his own in every Street in London, and in every Market-Town in England. What may we then in Time expect? Since by inſenſible Degrees, their Society is become ſo numerous and formidable, that they are without Number; other Bodies have their Meetings, but where can the Dumpling-Eaters aſſemble? what Place large enough to contain 'em! The Bank, India, and South-Sea Companies have their General Courts, the Free-Maſons and the Gormogons their Chapters; nay, our Friends [3] the Quakers have their Yearly Meetings. And who would imagine any of theſe ſhould be Dumpling-Eaters? But thus it is, the Dumpling-Eating Doctrine has ſo far prevail'd among 'em, that they eat not only Dumplings, but Puddings, and thoſe in no ſmall Quantities.

The Dumpling is indeed, of more antient Inſtitution, and of Foreign Origin; but alas, what were thoſe Dumplings? nothing but a few Lentils ſodden together, moiſten'd and cemented with a little ſeeth'd Fat, not much unlike our Gritt or Oatmeal Pudding; yet were they of ſuch Eſteem among the ancient Romans, that a Statue was erected to Fulvius Agricola, the firſt Inventor of theſe Lentil Dumplings. How unlike the Gratitude ſhewn by the Publick to our Modern Projectors!

The Romans, tho' our Conquerors, found themſelves much out-done in Dumplings by our Fore-fathers; the Roman Dumplings were no more to compare to thoſe made by the Britons, than a Stone-Dumpling is to a Marrow Pudding; tho' indeed, the Britiſh Dumpling at that time, was little better than what we call a Stone-Dumpling, being no thing elſe but Flour and Water: But every Generation growing wiſer and wiſer, the [4] Project was improv'd, and Dumpling grew to be Pudding: One Projector found Milk better than Water; another introduc'd Butter; ſome added Marrow, others Plumbs; and ſome found out the Uſe of Sugar; ſo that, to ſpeak Truth, we know not where to fix the Genealogy or Chronology of any of theſe Pudding Projectors, to the Reproach of our Hiſtorians, who eat ſo much Pudding, yet have been ſo Ungrateful to the firſt Profeſſors of this moſt noble Science, as not to find 'em a Place in Hiſtory.

The Invention of Eggs was merely accidental, two or three of which having caſually roll'd from off a Shelf into a Pudding which a good Wife was making, ſhe found herſelf under a Neceſſity either of throwing away her Pudding, or letting the Eggs remain, but concluding from the innocent Quality of the Eggs, that they would do no Hurt, if they did no Good. She wiſely jumbl'd 'em all together, after having carefully pick'd out the Shells; the Conſequence is eaſily imagined, the Pudding became a Pudding of Puddings; and the Uſe of Eggs from thence took its Date. The Woman was ſent for to Court to make Puddings for King John, who then ſway'd the Scepter; and gain'd ſuch Favour, that ſhe was the making of her whole Family. I cannot conclude [5] this Paragraph without owning, I receiv'd this important Part of the Hiſtory of Pudding from old Mr. Lawrence of Wilſden-Green, the greateſt Antiquary of the preſent Age.

From that Time the Engliſh became ſo famous for Puddings, that they are call'd Pudding-Eaters all over the World, to this Day.

At her Demiſe, her Son was taken into Favour, and made the King's chief Cook; and ſo great was his Fame for Puddings, that he was call'd Jack Pudding all over the Kingdom, tho' in Truth, his real Name was John Barnes, as by the Records of the Kitchen you will find: This John Barnes, or Jack-Pudding, call him which you pleaſe, the French have it Jean Boudin, for his Fame had reached France, whoſe King would have given the World to have had our Jack for his Pudding-Maker. This Jack Pudding, I ſay, became yet a greater Favourite than his Mother, inſomuch that he had the King's Ear as well as his Mouth at Command; for the King, you muſt know, was a mighty Lover of Pudding; and Jack fitted him to a Hair, he knew how to make the moſt of a Pudding; no Pudding came amiſs to him, he would make a Pudding [6] out of a Flint-ſtone, comparatively ſpeaking. It is needleſs to enumerate the many ſorts of Pudding he made, ſuch as Plain Pudding, Plumb Pudding, Marrow Pudding, Oatmeal Pudding, Carrot Pudding, Sauceſage Pudding, Bread Pudding, Flower Pudding, Suet Pudding, and in ſhort, every Pudding but Quaking Pudding, which was ſolely invented by, and took its Name from our Good Friends of the Bull and Mouth before mentioned, notwithſtanding the many Pretenders to that Projection.

But what rais'd our Hero moſt in the Eſteem of this Pudding-eating Monarch, was his Second Edition of Pudding, he being the firſt that ever invented the Art of Broiling Puddings, which he did to ſuch Perfection, and ſo much to the King's likeing, (who had a mortal Averſion to Cold Pudding,) that he thereupon inſtituted him Knight of the Gridiron, and gave him a Gridiron of Gold, the Enſign of that Order, which he always wore as a Mark of his Sovereign's Favour; in ſhort, Jack Pudding, or Sir John, grew to be all in all with good King John; he did nothing without him, they were Finger and Glove; and, if we may believe Tradition, our very good Friend had no ſmall Hand in the Magna Charta. If ſo, how much are all Engliſhmen indebted [7] to him? in what Repute ought the Order of the Gridiron to be, which was inſtituted to do Honour to this Wonderful Man? But alas! how ſoon is Merit forgot? how impudently do the Vulgar turn the moſt ſerious Things into Ridicule, and mock the moſt ſolemn Trophies of Honour? for now every Fool at a Fair, or Zany at a Mountebank's Stage, is call'd Jack Pudding, has a Gridiron at his Back, and a great Pair of Spectacles at his Buttocks, to ridicule the moſt noble Order of the Gridiron. But their Spectacles is a moſt ungrateful Reflection on the Memory of that great Man, whoſe indefatigable Application to his Buſineſs, and deep Study in that occult Science, rendred him Poreblind; to remedy which Misfortune, he had always a 'Squire follow'd him, bearing a huge Pair of Spectacles to ſaddle his Honour's Noſe, and ſupply his much-lamented Defect of Sight. But whether ſuch an Unhappineſs did not deſerve rather Pity than Ridicule, I leave to the Determination of all good Chriſtians: I cannot but ſay, it raiſes my Indignation, when I ſee theſe Paunchgutted Fellows uſurping the Title and Atchievements of my dear Sir John, whoſe Memory I ſo much venerate, I cannot always contain my ſelf. I remember, to my Coſt, I once carry'd my Reſentment a little [8] farther than ordinary; in furiouſly aſſaulting one of thoſe Raſcals, I tore the Gridiron from his Back, and the Spectacles from his A—e; for which I was Apprehended, carried to Pye-powder Court, and by that tremendous Bench, ſentenc'd to moſt ſevere Pains and Penalties.

This has indeed a little tam'd me, inſomuch that I keep my Fingers to my ſelf, but at the ſame time let my Tongue run like a Devil: Forbear vile Miſcreants, cry I, where-e'er I meet theſe Wretches? forbear to aſcribe to your ſelves the Name and Honours of Sir John Pudding? content your ſelves with being Zanies, Pickled-Herrings, Punchionellos, but dare not ſcandalize the noble Name of Pudding: Nor can I, notwithſtanding the Clamours and Ill Uſage of the Vulgar, refrain bearing my Teſtimony againſt this manifeſt piece of Injuſtice.

What Pity it is therefore, ſo noble an Order ſhould be loſt, or at leaſt neglected. We have had no Account of the real Knights oſ the Gridiron, ſince they appeared under the fictitious Name of the Kit-Kat Club: In their Poſſeſſion was the very Gridiron of Gold worn by Sir John himſelf; which Identical Gridiron dignified the Breaſt [9] of the moſt ingenious Mr. Richard Eſtcourt that excellent Phyſician and Comedian, who was Preſident of that Noble Society.

Quis talia fando temperet à Lachrymis?

What is become of the Gridiron, or of the Remains of that excellent Body of Men, Time will, I hope, diſcover. The World, I believe, muſt for ſuch Diſcoveries be obliged to my very good Friend J— T— Eſq who had the Honour to be Door-keeper to that Honourable Aſſembly.

But to return to Sir John: The more his Wit engaged the King, the more his Grandeur alarm'd his Enemies, who encreas'd with his Honours. Not but the Courtiers careſs'd him to a Man, as the firſt who had brought Dumpling-eating to Perfection. King John himſelf lov'd him entirely; being of Ceſar's Mind, that is, he had a natural Antipathy againſt Meagre, Herring-gutted Wretches; he lov'd only Fat-headed Men, and ſuch, who ſlept o' Nights; and of ſuch was his whole Court compos'd. Now it was Sir John's Method, every Sunday Morning, to give the Courtiers a Breakfaſt, which Breakfaſt was every Man his Dumpling and Cup of Wine; for you muſt know, he [10] was Yeoman of the Wine-Cellar at the ſame time.

This was a great Eye-ſore and Heartburning to ſome Lubberly Abbots who loung'd about the Court; they took it in great Dudgeon they were not Invited, and ſtuck ſo cloſe to his Skirts, that they never reſted 'till they Outed him. They told the King, who was naturally very Haſty, that Sir John made-away with his Wine, and feaſted his Paramours at his Expence; and not only ſo, but that they were forming a Deſign againſt his Life, which they in Conſcience ought to diſcover: That Sir John was not only an Heretic, but an Heathen; nay worſe, they fear'd he was a Witch, and that he had bewitcht His Majeſty into that unaccountable Fondneſs for a Pudding-Maker. They aſſur'd the King, That on a Sunday Morning, inſtead of being at Mattins, he and his Trigrimates got together Hum-jum, all ſnug, and perform'd many Helliſh and Diabolical Ceremonies. In ſhort, they made the King believe that the Moon was made of Green-Cheeſe: And to ſhew how the Innocent may be Bely'd, and the beſt Intentions miſrepreſented, they told the King, That He and his Aſſociates offer'd Sacrifices to Ceres: When, alas, it was only the Dumplings they eat. [11] The Butter which was melted and pour'd over them, theſe vile Miſcreants call'd Libations: And the friendly Compotations of our Dumpling-eaters, were call'd Bacchanalian Rites. Two or three among 'em being ſweet-tooth'd, wou'd ſtrew a little Sugar over their Dumplings; this was repreſented as an Heatheniſh Offering. In ſhort, not one Action of theirs, but what theſe Raſcally Abbots made Criminal, and never let the King alone 'till poor Sir John was Diſcarded. Not but the King did it with the greateſt Reluctance; but they had made it a Religious Concern, and he cou'd not get off on't.

But mark the Conſequence: The King never enjoy'd himſelf after, nor was it long before he was poiſon'd by a Monk at Swines-head Abbey. Then too late he ſaw his Error; then he lamented the Loſs of Sir John; and in his lateſt Moments wou'd cry out, Oh! that I had never parted from my dear Jack Pudding! Wou'd I had never left off Pudding and Dumpling! I then had never been thus baſely Poiſon'd! never thus treacherouſly ſent out of the World!—Thus did this good King lament: But, alas, to no Purpoſe, the Prieſt had given him his Bane, and Complaints were ineffectual.

[12] Sir John, in the mean time, had retir'd into Norfolk, where his diffuſive Knowledge extended it ſelf for the Good of the County in general; and from that very Cauſe Norfolk has ever ſince been ſo famous for Dumplings. He lamented the King's Death to his very laſt; and was ſo cautious of being poiſon'd by the Prieſts, that he never touch'd a Wafer to the Day of his Death: And had it not been that ſome of the leſsdeſigning part of the Clergy were his intimate Friends, and eat daily of his Dumplings, he had doubtleſs been Made-away with; out they ſtood in the Gap for him, for the ſake of his Dumplings, knowing that when Sir John was gone, they ſhould never have the like again.

But our facetious Knight was too free of his Talk to be long ſecure; for a Hole was pick'd in his Coat in the ſucceeding Reign, and poor Sir John had all his Goods and Chattels forfeited to the King's Uſe. It was then time for him to beſtir himſelf; and away to Court he goes, to recover his Lands, &c. not doubting but he had Friends there ſufficient to carry his Cauſe.

But alas! how was he miſtaken; not a Soul there knew him; the very Porters [13] uſed him rudely. In vain did he ſeek for Acceſs to the King, to vindicate his Conduct. In vain did he claim Acquaintance with the Lords of the Court; and reap up old Civilities, to remind 'em of former Kindneſs; the Pudding was eat, the Obligation was over: Which made Sir John compoſe that excellent Proverb, Not a word of the Pudding. And finding all Means ineffectual, he left the Court in a great Pet; yet not without paſſing a ſevere Joke upon 'em, in his way, which was this; He ſent a Pudding to the King's Table, under the Name of a Court-Pudding, or Promiſe-Pudding. This Pudding he did not fail to ſet off with large Encomiums; aſſuring the King, That therein he wou'd find an Hieroglyphical Definition of Courtiers Promiſes and Friendſhip.

This cauſed ſome Speculation; and the King's Phyſician debarr'd the King from taſting the Pudding, not knowing but that Sir John had poiſon'd it.

But how great a Fit of Laughter enſu'd, may be eaſily gueſs'd, when the Pudding was cut up, it prov'd only a large Bladder, juſt clos'd over with Paſte: The Bladder was full of Wind, and nothing elſe, excepting theſe Verſes written in a Roll of Paper, [14] and put in, as is ſuppos'd, before the Bladder was blown full:

As Wynde in a Bladdere ypent,
is Lordings promyſe and ſerment;
ſain what hem luſt withouten drede,
they bene ſo double in her falſhede:
For they in heart can think ene thing,
and ſain another in her ſpeaking:
and what was sweet and apparent,
is ſmoterlich, and eke yſhent.
and when of ſervice you have nede,
pardie he will not rew nor rede.
but when the Symnel it is eten,
her curteſſe is all foryetten.

This Adventure met with various Conſtructions from thoſe at Table: Some Laugh'd; others Frown'd. But the King took the Joke by the right End, and Laugh'd outright.

The Verſes, tho' but ſcurvy ones in themſelves, yet in thoſe Days paſs'd for tolerable: Nay, the King was mightily pleas'd with 'em, and play'd 'em off on his Courtiers as Occaſion ſerv'd; he wou'd ſtop 'em ſhort in the middle of a flattering Harangue, and cry, Not a Word of the Pudding. This wou'd daunt and mortify 'em to the laſt degree; they curs'd Sir John a thouſand times over for the Proverb's ſake: but to [15] no Purpoſe; for the King gave him a private Hearing: In which he ſo well ſatisfy'd His Majeſty of his Innocence and Integrity, that all his Lands were reſtor'd. The King wou'd have put him in his old Poſt; but he modeſtly declin'd it, but at the ſame time preſented His Majeſty with a Book of moſt excellent Receipts for all kinds of Puddings: Which Book His Majeſty receiv'd with all imaginable Kindneſs, and kept it among his greateſt Rarities.

But yet, as the beſt Inſtructions, tho' never ſo ſtrictly follow'd, may not be always as ſucceſsfully executed, ſo not one of the King's Cooks cou'd make a Pudding like Sir John; nay, tho' he made a Pudding before their Eyes, yet they out of the very ſame Materials could not do the like. Which made his old Friends the Monks attribute it to Witchcraft, and it was currently reported the Devil was his Helper. But good King Harry was not to be fobb'd off ſo; the Pudding was good, it ſate very well on his Stomach, and he eat very ſavourly, without the leaſt Remorſe of Conſcience.

In ſhort, Sir John grew in Favour in ſpite of their Teeth: The King lov'd a merry Joke; and Sir John had always [16] his Budget full of Punns, Connundrums and Carrawitchets; not to forget the Quibbles and Fly-flaps he play'd againſt his Adverſaries, at which the King has laugh'd 'till his Sides crackt.

Sir John, tho' he was no very great Scholar, yet had a happy way of Expreſſing himſelf: He was a Man of the moſt Engaging Addreſs, and never fail'd to draw Attention: Plenty and Good-Nature ſmil'd in his Face; his Muſcles were never diſtorted with Anger or Contemplation, but an eternal Smile drew up the Corners of his Mouth; his very Eyes laugh'd; and as for his Chin it was three-double, a-down which hung a goodly Whey-colour'd Beard ſhining with the Drippings of his Luxury; for you muſt knew he was a great Epicure, and had a very Senſible Mouth; he thought nothing toogood for himſelf, all his Care was for his Belly; and his Palate was ſo exquiſite, that it was the perfect Standard of Taſting. So that to him we owe all that is elegant in Eating: For Pudding was not his only Talent, he was a great Virtuoſo in all manner of Eatables; and tho' he might come ſhort of Lambert for Confectionary-Niceties, yet was he not inferiour to Brawnd, Lebec, Pede, or any other great Maſters of Cookery; he could toſs up a Fricaſſée as well as a Pancake: [17] And moſt of the Kickſhaws now in vogue, are but his Inventions, with other Names; for what we call Fricaſſées, he call'd Pancakes; as, a Pancake of Chickens, a Pancake of Rabbets, &c. Nay, the French call a Pudding an Engliſh Fricaſſée, to this Day.

We value our ſelves mightily for Roaſting a Hare with a Pudding in its Belly; when alas he has roaſted an Ox with a Pudding in his Belly. There was no Man like him for Invention and Contrivance: And then for Execution, he ſpar'd no Labour and Pains to compaſs his magnanimous Deſigns.

O wou'd to Heav'n this little Attempt of Mine may ſtir up ſome Pudding-headed Antiquary to dig his Way through all the mouldy Records of Antiquity, and bring to Light the Noble Actions of Sir John! It will not then be long before we ſee him on the Stage. Sir John Falſtaffe then will be a Shrimp to Sir John Pudding, when rais'd from Oblivion and reanimated by the All-Invigorating Pen of the Well-Fed, Well-Read, Well-Pay'd C— J— Eſq Nor wou'd this be all; for the Paſtry-Cooks wou'd from the Hands of an eminent Phyſician and Poet receive whole Loads of [18] Memorandums, to remind 'em of the Gratitude due to Sir John's Memory.

On ſuch a Subject I hope to ſee Sir Richard Out-do himſelf. Nor Arthur nor Eliza ſhall with Sir John compare. There is not ſo much differenee between a Teleſcope and a Powder-Puff, a Hoop-Petty-Coat and a Farthing-Candle, a Birch-Broom and a Diamond-Ring, as there will be between the former Writings of this pair of Poets and their Lucubrations on this Head.

Nor will it ſtop here: The Opera Compoſers ſhall have t'other Conteſt, which ſhall beſt ſing-forth his Praiſes. Sorry am I that Nicolino is not here, he would have made an excellent Sir John. But Seneſino, being blown up after the manner that Butchers blow Calves, may do well enough. From thence the Painters and Print-ſellers ſhall retail his goodly Phiz; and what Sacheverel was, ſhall Sir John Pudding be; his Head ſhall hang Elate on every Sign, his Fame ſhall ring in every Street, and Cluer's Preſs ſhall teem with Ballads to his Praiſe. This would be but Honour, this would be but Gratitude, from a Generation ſo much indebted to ſo Great a Man.

[19] But how much do we deviate from Honour and Gratitude, when we put other Names to his Inventions, and call 'em our own? What is a Tart, a Pie, or a Paſty, but Meat or Fruit enclos'd in a Wall or Covering of Pudding. What is a Cake, but a Bak'd Pudding; or a Chriſtmas-Pie, but a Minc'd-Meat-Pudding. As for Cheeſe-cakes, Cuſtards, Tanſies, they are manifeſt Puddings, and all of Sir John's own Contrivance; for Cuſtard is as old if not older than Magna Charta. In ſhort, Pudding is of the greateſt Dignity and Antiquity. Bread it ſelf, which is the very Staff of Life, is, properly ſpeaking, a Bak'd Wheat-Pudding.

To the Satchel, which is the Pudding-Bag of Ingenuity, we are indebted for the greateſt Men in Church and State. All Arts and Sciences owe their Original to Pudding or Dumpling. What is a Bag-Pipe, the Mother of all Muſic, but a Pudding of Harmony. And what is Muſic it ſelf, but a Palatable Cookery of Sounds. To little Puddings or Bladders of Colours we owe all the choice Originals of the Greateſt Painters: And indeed, what is Painting, but a well-ſpread Pudding, or Cookery of Colours.

[20] The Head of Man is like a Pudding: And whence have all Rhimes, Poems, Plots and Inventions ſprang, but from that ſame Pudding. What is Poetry, but a Pudding of Words. The Phyſicians, tho' they cry out ſo much againſt Cooks and Cookery, yet are but Cooks themſelves; with this difference only, the Cooks Pudding lengthens Life, the Phyſicians ſhortens it. So that we Live and Die by Pudding. For what is a Clyſter, but a Bag-Pudding; a Pill, but a Dumpling; or a Bolus, but a Tanſy, tho' not altogether ſo Toothſome. In a word; Phyſick is only a Puddingizing or Cookery of Drugs. The Law is but a Cookery of Quibbles and Contentions. a* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * is but a Pudding of * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *. Some ſwallow every thing whole and unmix'd; ſo that it may rather be call'd a Heap, than a Pudding. Others are ſo Squeamiſh, the greateſt Maſterſhip in Cookery is requir'd to make the Pudding Palatable: The Suet which others gape and ſwallow by Gobs, muſt for theſe [21] puny Stomachs be minced to Atoms; the Plums muſt be pick'd with the utmoſt Care, and every Ingredient proportion'd to the greateſt Nicety, or it will never go down.

The Univerſe it ſelf is but a Pudding of Elements. Empires, Kingdoms, States and Republicks are but Puddings of People differently made up. The Celeſtial and Terreſtrial Orbs are decypher'd to us by a pair of Globes or Mathematical Puddings.

The Succeſs of War and Fate of Monarchies are entirely dependant on Puddings and Dumplings: For what elſe are Cannon-Balls, but Military Puddings; or Bullets, but Dumplings; only with this difference, they do not ſit ſo well on the Stomach as a good Marrow-Pudding or Bread-Pudding.

In ſhort, There is nothing valuable in Nature, but what, more or leſs, has an Alluſion to Pudding or Dumpling. Why then ſhould they be held in Diſeſteem? Why ſhould Dumpling-Eating be ridicul'd, or Dumpling-Eaters derided? Is it not Pleaſant and Profitable? Is it not Ancient and Honourable? Kings, Princes, and Potentates have in all Ages been Lovers of Pudding. Is it not therefore [22] of Royal Authority? Popes, Cardinals, Biſhops, Prieſts and Deacons have, Time out of Mind, been great Pudding-Eaters: Is it not therefore a Holy and Religious Inſtitution? Philoſophers, Poets, and Learned Men in all Faculties, Judges, Privy-Councellors, and Members of both Houſes, have, by their great Regard to Pudding, given a Sanction to it that nothing can efface. Is it not therefore Ancient, Honourable, and Commendable?

Quare itaque fremuerunt Auctores?

Why do therefore the Enemies of good Eating, the Starve-gutted Authors of Grubſtreet, employ their impotent Pens againſt Pudding and Pudding-headed, aliàs Honeſt Men? Why do they inveigh againſt Dumpling-Eating which is the Life and Soul of Good-fellowſhip, and Dumpling-Eaters who are the Ornaments of Civil Society.

But, alas! their Malice is their own Puniſhment. The Hireling Author of a late ſcandalous Libel, intituled, The Dumpling-Eaters Downfall, may, if he has any Eyes, now ſee his Error, in attacking ſo Numerous, ſo Auguſt a Body of People: His Books remain Unſold, Unread, Unregarded; while this Treatiſe of [23] Mine ſhall be Bought by all who love Pudding or Dumpling; to my Bookſeller's great Joy, and my no ſmall Conſolation. How ſhall I Triumph, and how will that Mercenary Scribbler be Mortify'd, when I have ſold more Editions of my Books, than he has Copies of his! I therefore exhort all People, Gentle and Simple, Men, Women and Children, to Buy, to Read, to Extol theſe Labours of Mine, for the Honour of Dumpling-Eating. Let them not fear to defend every Article; for I will bear them Harmleſs: I have Arguments good ſtore, and can eaſily Confute, either Logically, Theologically, or Metaphyſically, all thoſe who dare Oppoſe me.

Let not Engliſhmen therefore be aſham'd of the Name of Pudding-Eaters; but, on the contrary, let it be their Glory. For let Foreigners cry out ne'er ſo much againſt Good Eating, they come eaſily into it when they have been a little while in our Land of Canaan; and there are very few Foreigners among us who have not learn'd to make as great a Hole in a good Pudding or Sirloin of Beef as the beſt Engliſhman of us all.

Why ſhou'd we then be Laught out of Pudding and Dumpling? or why [24] Ridicul'd out of Good Living? Plots and Politics may hurt us, but Pudding cannot. Let us therefore adhere to Pudding, and keep our ſelves out of Harm's Way; according to the Golden Rule laid down by a celebrated Dumpling-Eater now defunct;

Be of your Patron's Mind, whate'er he ſays:
Sleep very much; Think little, and Talk leſs:
Mind neither Good nor Bad, nor Right nor Wrong;
But Eat your Pudding, Fool, and Hold your Tongue.
PRIOR.

The Author of theſe excellent Lines not only ſhews his Wiſdom, but his Good-Breeding, and great Eſteem for the Memory of Sir John, by giving his Poem the Title of Merry Andrew, and making Merry Andrew the principal Spokeſman: For if I gueſs aright, and ſurely I gueſs not wrong, his main Deſign was, to aſcertain the Name of Merry Andrew to the Fool of a Droll, and to ſubſtitute it inſtead of Jack Pudding; which Name my Friend Matt. cou'd not hear with Temper, as carrying with [25] it an oblique Reflection on Sir John Pudding the Hero of this DUMPLEID.

Let all thoſe therefore who have any Regard to Politeneſs and Propriety of Speech, take heed how they Err againſt this Rule laid down by him who was the Standard of Engliſh Elegance. And be it known to all whom it may concern, That if any Perſon whatever ſhall dare hereafter to apply the Name of Jack Pudding to Merry Andrews and ſuch-like Creatures, I hereby Require and Impower any Stander or Standers by, to Knock him, her, or them down. And if any Action or Actions of Aſſault and Battery ſhall be brought againſt any Perſon or Perſons ſo acting in purſuance of this moſt reaſonable Requeſt, by Knocking down, Bruiſing, Beating, or otherwiſe Demoliſhing ſuch Offenders; I will Indemnify and bear them Harmleſs.

FINIS.

Appendix A Namby Pamby: OR, A PANEGYRIC on the New VERESIFICATION Addreſs'd to A— P— Eſq

[]
Nauty Pauty Jack-a-Dandy
Stole a Piece of Sugar-Candy
From the Grocer's Shoppy-ſhop,
And away did Hoppy-hop.
ALL ye Poets of the Age,
All ye Witlings of the Stage,
Learn your Jingles to reform;
Crop your Numbers, and conform:
Let your little Verſes flow
Gently, ſweetly, Row by Row:
Let the Verſe the Subject fit;
Little Subject, Little Wit:
Namby Pamby is your Guide;
Albion's Joy, Hibernia's Pride.
[*] Namby Pamby Pilli-pis,
Rhimy pim'd on Miſſy-Miſs;
Tartaretta Tartaree
From the Navel to the Knee;
That her Father's Gracy-Grace
Might give him a Placy-Place.
He no longer writes of Mammy
Andromache and her Lammy
Hanging panging at the Breaſt
Of a Matron moſt diſtreſt.
Now the Venal Poet ſings
Baby Clouts, and Baby Things,
Baby Dolls, and Baby Houſes,
Little Miſſes, Little Spouſes;
Little Play-Things, Little Toys,
Little Girls, and Little Boys:
As an Actor does his Part,
So the Nurſes get by Heart
Namby Pamby's Little Rhimes,
Little Jingle, Little Chimes,
To repeat to Little Miſs,
Piddling Ponds of Piſſy-Piſs;
Cacking packing like a Lady,
Or Bye-bying in the Crady.
Namby Pamby ne'er will die
While the Nurſe ſings Lullabye.
Namby Pamby's doubly Mild,
Once a Man, and twice a Child;
To his Hanging-Sleeves reſtor'd;
Now he foots it like a Lord;
[*] Now he Pumps his little Wits;
Sh--ing Writes, and Writing Sh--s,
All by little tiny Bits.
Now methinks I hear him ſay,
Boys and Girls, Come out to Play,
Moon do's ſhine as bright as Day.
Now my Namby Pamby's found
Sitting on the Friar's Ground,
Picking Silver, picking Gold,
Namby Pamby's never Old.
Bally-Cally they begin,
Namby Pamby ſtill keeps-in.
Namby Pamby is no Clown,
London-Bridge is broken down:
Now he courts the gay Ladee,
Dancing o'er the Lady-Lee:
Now he ſings of Lick-ſpit Liar.
Burning in the Brimſtone Fire;
Lyar, Lyar, Lick-ſpit, lick,
Turn about the Candle-ſtick:
Now he ſings of Jacky Horner
Sitting in the Chimney-corner,
Eating of a Chriſtmas-Pie,
Putting in his Thumb, Oh, fie!
Putting in, Oh, fie! his Thumb,
Pulling out, Oh, ſtrange! a Plum.
And again, how Nancy Cock,
Naſty Girl! beſh-t her Smock.
Now he acts the Grenadier,
Calling for a Pot of Beer:
[*] Where's his Money? He's forgot:
Get him gone, a Drunken Sot.
Now on Cock-horſe does he ride;
And anon on Timber ſtride,
See-and-Saw and Sacchry-down,
London is a gallant Town.
Now he gathers Riches in
Thicker, faſter, Pin by Pin;
Pins a-piece to ſee his Show;
Boys and Girls flock Row by Row;
From their Cloaths the Pins they take,
Riſque a Whipping for his ſake;
From their Frocks the Pins they pull,
To fill Namby's Cuſhion full.
So much Wit at ſuch an Age,
Does a Genius great preſage.
Second Childhood gone and paſt,
Shou'd he prove a Man at laſt,
What muſt Second Manhood be,
In a Child ſo Bright as he!
Guard him, ye Poetic Powers;
Watch his Minutes, watch his Hours:
Let your Tuneful Nine Inſpire him;
Let Poetic Fury fire him:
Let the Poets one and all
To his Genius Victims fall.

Appendix B PROPOSALS For Printing by Subſcriptions, THE Antiquities of Grub-ſtreet: With OBSERVATIONS Critical, Political, Hiſtorical, Chronological, Philoſophical, and Philological. By JOHN WALTON and JAMES ANDREWS Gent.

[]

This WORK will be Printed on a Superfine Royal Paper, in Ten Volumes, Folio: Each Volume to contain an Hundred Sheets; beſides Maps, Cuts, and other proper Illuſtrations.

The Price to Subſcribers is Fifty Guinea's each Set: Half Down, and Half on Delivery.

No more to be Printed than what are Subſcribed for.

Subſcribers for Six Sets, have a Seventh gratis, as uſual.

The Subſcribers Names and Coats of Arms will be prefix'd to the Work.

[{inverted †}] For thoſe who are particularly Curious, ſome Copies will be Printed on Vellum, Rul'd and Illuminated, they paying the Difference.

IT is not doubted but this Great UNDERTAKING will meet with Encouragement from the Learned World, ſeveral Noble Perſons having already Subſcribed.

SUBSCRIBERS are Taken-in by the Authors, and moſt Noted Bookſellers in London, &c.

N.B. The very Cuts are worth the Money; there being, inter alia, above 300 curious Heads of Learned Authors, on large Copper-Plates, engraven by Mr. Herman van Stynkenvaart, from the Paintings, Buſto's, and Baſſo-Relievo's of the Greateſt Maſters.

Appendix C ADVERTISEMENT To all Gentlemen Bookſellers, and others. At the Houſe with Stone-Steps and Saſh-Windows in Hanover-Court in Grape-Street, vulgarly call'd Grub-Street, Liveth an AUTHOR,

[]

WHO Writeth all manner of Books and Pamphlets, in Verſe or Proſe, at Reaſonable Rates: And furniſheth, at a Minute's Warning, any Cuſtomer with Elegies, Paſtorals, Epithalamium's and Congratulatory Verſes adapted to all manner of Perſons and Profeſſions, Ready Written, with Blanks to inſert the Names of the Parties Addreſs'd to.

He ſupplieth Gentlemen Bell-Men with Verſes on all Occaſions, at 12d. the Dozen, or 10s. the Groſs; and teacheth them Accent and Pronunciation gratis.

He taketh any ſide of a Queſtion, and Writeth For or Againſt, or both, if required.

He likewiſe Draws up Advertiſements; and Aſperſes after the neweſt Method.

He Writeth for thoſe who cannot Write themſelves, yet are ambitious of being Authors; and will, if required, enter into Bonds never to own the Performance.

He Tranſmogrifieth alias Tranſmigrapheth any Copy; and maketh many Titles to one Work, after the manner of the famous Mr. E— C—

N.B. He is come down from the Garret to the Firſt Floor, for the Convenience of his Cuſtomers.

Pray miſtake not the Houſe; becauſe there are many Pretenders there-abouts.

No Truſt by Retale.

Notes
a
The Cat run away with this part of the Copy, on which the Author had unfortunately laid ſome of Mother Crump's Sauſages.
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TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5090 A learned dissertation on dumpling its dignity antiquity and excellence With a word upon pudding. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-58A9-3