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 mafters, that poets are not fo well acquainted with good eating as otherwife 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 something more fubstantial, 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 seen Jacomo very merry, and cat very heartily of pease and buttered eggs under the table. The Hoft in The Villaint, who carries tables, flools, furniture, and provisions, all about him, gives great content to the fpectators when from the crown of his hat he produces his cold capon: fo Armarillis (or rather Par * A tragedy by Thomas Shadwell, a&ted 1676. + A tragedy by Thomas Porter, acted 1663. Volume I. E thenope, as I take it) in The Rehearsal, with her wine in her fpear and her pie in her helmet, and the Cook that flobbers his beard with fackpoffet in The Man's The Master ‡, have in my opinion made the most diverting part of the action. Thefe 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 fupper 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 fingle fish, with the judgment of the Roman Senate concerning it. Thus whether ferious or jocofe good eating is made the fubject 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 seen a very good episode (give me leave to call it fo) made by sending out the leg of a goofe 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 fo 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, stewing 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 barbarously, unless he has some 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 serve him with a dish of carp before that time: he might as well give King James I. a difh of asparagus upon his first coming to London, which were not brought into England till many years after ; or make Owen Tudor present 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 fugar, was but an inven tion of two hundred years slanding; and before that time our ancestors fweetened and garnished all with honey, of which there are fome remains in Windfor bowls, baron bracks, and large fimnels, fent for 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 inttead 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 pleased to say, “that if "fhe were upon a ftrange road, and driven to great "neceffity, fhe believed the might for once be able to "fup upon a sackposset and a fat capon.” I am fure poets as well as Cooks are for having all words nicely chofen and properly adapted; and therefore I believe they would fhew the fame regret that I do to hear perfons of fome rank and quality say, Pray cut up that goofe; help me to fome of that 66 chicken, hen, or capon, or half that plover:" not confidering how indifcreetly they talk before men of art, whose proper terms are, "Break that goose;”"frust that chicken;"-"spoil that hen;"-"fauce "that capon;"-"mince that plover."-If they are so much out in common things, how much more will they be with bitterns, herns, cranes, and peacocks? But it is vain for us to complain of the faults and errours of the world unless we lend our helping hand to retrieve them. To conclude, our greatest author of dramatick poetry, Mr Dryden, has made use of the mysteries of this art in the prologues to two of his plays, one a tragedy, the other a comedy, in which he has shewn his greatest art, and proved moft fuccefsful. I had not feen the play for fome years before I hit upon almoft the fame words that he has in the following prologue to All for, Love: "Fops may have leave to level all they can, As Pigmies would be glad to top a man. "Half-wits are fleas, fo little and so light, "We fearce could know they live but that they bite. "For change become their next poor tenant's guefts, "Whofe grapes and peaches have indulg'd your tafte, |