become very different; for they, lying upon a sort of couch, could not have carved those dishes which our ancestors, when they sat upon forms, used to do. But, since the use of cushions and elbowchairs, and the editions of good books and authors, it may be hoped in time we may come up to them. For indeed hitherto we have been something to blame; and I believe few of us have seen a dish of capon-stones at table; (lamb-stones is acknowledged by the learned annotator that we have) for the art of making capons has long been buried in oblivion. Varro, the great Roman antiquary, tells us how to do it by burning of their spurs; which, occasioning their sterility, makes them capons in effect, though those parts thereby became more large and tender.

The fifth book is of pease-porridge; under which are included, frumetary, watergruel, milk-porridge, rice-milk, flumary, stir-about, and the like. The Latin or rather Greek name is ausprios; but my friend was pleased to entitle it pantagruel, a name used by Rabelais, an eminent physician. There are some very remarkable things in it; as, the emperor Julianus had seldom any thing but spoonmeat at supper: that the herb fenugreek, with pickles, oil, and wine, was a Roman dainty; upon which the annotator observes, that it is not used in our kitchens, for a certain ungrateful bitterness that it has; and that it is plainly a physical diet, that will give a stool; and that, mixed with oats, it is the best purge for horses: an excellent invention for frugality, that nothing might be lost; for what the lord did not eat, he might send to his stable!

sauce, prescribed after a physical manner, in form
of an electuary, made of pepper, rue, parsley-seed,
juniper, thyme dried, mint, pennyroyal, honey,
&c." with which any apothecary in that country
can furnish you. 4. Beef, with onion sauce, and
commended by Celsus, but not much approved by
Hippocrates, because the Greeks scarce knew how
to make oxen, and powdering-tubs were in very few
families: for physicians have been very peculiar
in their diet in all ages; otherwise Galen would
soarce have found out that young foxes were in
season in autumn. 5. The sucking pig boiled in
paper. 6. The hare, the chief of the Roman
dainties; its blood being the sweetest of any ani-
mal, its natural fear contributing to that excel-
lence. Though the emperors and nobility had
parks to fatten them in; yet in the time of Di-
dianus Julianus, if any one had sent him one, or a
pig, he would make it last him three days; whereas
Alexander Severus had one every meal, which
must have been a great expense, and is very re-
markable. But the most exquisite animal was
reserved for the last chapter; and that was the
dormouse, a harmless creature, whose innocence
might at least have defended it both from cooks
and physicians. But Apicius found out an odd
sort of fate for those poor creatures; some to be
boned, and others to be put whole, with odd ingre-
dients, into hogs-guts, and so boiled for sausages.
In ancient times, people made it their business to
fatten them: Aristotle rightly observes, that sleep
fattened them; and Martial from thence too poeti-
cally tells us, that sleep was their only nourish-
ment. But the annotator has cleared that point;
he, good man, has tenderly observed one of them
for many years, and finds, that it does not sleep all
the winter, as falsely reported, but wakes at meals,
and after its repast then rolls itself up in a ball to
sleep. This dormouse, according to the author,
did not drink in three years time; but whether
other dormice do so, I cannot tell, because Bam-
bouselbergius's treatise Of Fattening Dormice is
lost. Though very costly, they became a com-
mon dish at great entertainments. Petronius de-
livers us an odd receipt for dressng them, and
serving them up with poppies and honey; which
must be a very soporiferous dainty, and as good
as owl-pie to such as want a nap after dinner.
The fondness of the Romans came to be so exces-
sive towards them, that, as Pliny says, "the cen
sorian laws, and Marcus Scaurus in his consul-
ship, got them prohibited from public entertain
ments." But Nero, Commodus, and Heliogabalus,
would not deny the liberty, and indeed property,
of their subjects in so reasonable an enjoyment;
and therefore we find them long after brought to
table in the times of Ammianus Marcellinus, who
tells us likewise, that "scales were brought to table
in those ages, to weigh curious fishes, birds, and
dormice," to see whether they were at the standard
of excellence and perfection, and sometimes, I
suppose, to vie with other pretenders to magnifi-

The sixth book treats of wild-fowl; how to dress ostriches, (the biggest, grossest, and most difficult of digestion, of any bird) phoenicoptrices, parrots, &c.

The seventh book treats of things sumptuous and costly, and therefore chiefly concerning hog-meat; in which the Romans came to that excess, that the laws forbad the usage of hogs-harslet, sweet-breads, cheeks, &c. at their public suppers; and Cato, when censor, sought to restrain the extravagant use of brawn, by several of his orations. So much regard was had then to the art of cookery, that we see it took place in the thoughts of the wisest men, and bore a part in their most important councils. But, alas! the degeneracy of our present age is such, that I believe few besides the annotator know the excellency of a virgin sow, especially of the black kind brought from China; and how to make the most of her liver, lights, brains, and pettitoes; and to vary her into those fifty dishes which, Pliny says, were usually made of that delicious creature. Besides, Galen tells us more of its excellencies: "That fellow that eats bacon for two or three days before he is to box or wrestle, shall be much stronger than if he should eat the best roast beef or bag pudding in the pa

rish."

The eighth book treats of such dainties as fourfooted beasts afford us; as, 1. the wild boar, which they used to boil with all its bristles on. 2. The deer, dressed with broth made with pepper, wine, honey, oil, and stewed damsons, &c. 3. The wild sheep, of which there are "innumerable in the mountains of Yorkshire and Westmoreland, that will let nobody handle them;" but, if they are caught, they are to be sent up with an "elegant

cence.

The annotator takes hold of this occasion, to show" of how great use scales would be at the tables of our nobility," especially upon the bringing up of a dish of wild-fowl: "for, if twelve larks (says he) should weigh below twelve ounces, they would be very lean, and scarce tolerable; if twelve, and down-weight, they would be very well; but, if thirteen, they would be fat to perfection." We

see upon how nice and exact a balance the happi- | salmagundy, with the head and tail so neatly laid, ness of eating depends!

I could scarce forbear smiling, not to say worse, at such exactness and such dainties; and told my friend, that those scales would be of extraordinary use at Dunstable; and that, if the annotator had not prescribed his dorinouse, I should upon the first occasion be glad to visit it, if I knew its visiting-days and hours, so as not to disturb it. My friend said, there remained but two books more, one of sea and the other of river fish, in the account of which he would not be long, seeing his memory began to fail him almost as much as my patience.

'Tis true, in a long work, soft slumbers creep, And gently sink the artist into sleep';

especially when treating of dormice.

The ninth book is concerning sea fish, where, amongst other learned annotations, is recorded that famous voyage of Apicius, who, having spent many millions, and being retired into Campania, heard that there were lobsters of a vast and unusual bigness in Africa, and thereupon impatiently got on shipboard the same day; and, having suffered much at sea, came at last to the coast. But the fame of so great a man's coming had landed before him, and all the fishermen sailed out to meet him, and presented him with their fairest lobsters. He asked, if they had no larger. They answered, "Their sea produced nothing more excellent than what they had brought." This honest freedom of theirs, with his disappointment, so disgusted him, that he took pet, and bade the master return home again immediately and so, it seems, Africa lost the breed of one monster more than it had before. There are many receipts in the book, to dress cramp-fish, that numb the hands of those that touch them; the cuttle-fish, whose blood is like ink; the pourcontrel, or many feet; the sea-urchin, or hedge-hog; with several others, whose sauces are agreeable to their natures. But, to the comfort of us moderns, the ancients often ate their oysters alive, and spread hard eggs minced over their sprats, as we do now over our salt-fish. There is one thing very curious concerning herrings. It seems, the ancients were very fantastical, in making one thing pass for another; so, at Petronius's supper, the cook sent up a fat goose, fish, and wild-fowl of all sorts to appearance, but still all were made out of the several parts of one single porker. The great Nicomedes, king of Bithynia, had a very delighful deception of this nature put upon him by his cook: the king was extremely affected with fresh berrings; (as indeed who is not?) but, being far up in Asia from the sea-coast, his whole wealth could not have purchased one; but his cook contrived some sort of meat, which, put into a frame, so resembled a herring, that it was extremely satisfactory both to this prince's eyes and gusto. My friend told me, that, to the honour of the city of London, he had seen a thing of this nature there; that is, a herring, or rather a

that it surprised him. He says, many of the species may be found at the Sugar Loaf in Bell Yard, as giving an excellent relish to Burton ale, and not costing above sixpence, an inconsiderable price for so imperial a dainty!

The tenth book, as my friend tells me, is concerning fish sauces, which consist of variety of ingredients, amongst which is generally a kind of frumetary. But it is not to be forgotten by any person who would boil fish exactly, that they threw them alive into the water, which at present is said to be a Dutch receipt, but was derived from the Romans. It seems, Seneca the philosopher, (a man from whose morose temper little good in the art of cookery could be expected) in his third book of Natural Questions, correcting the luxury of the times, says, the Romans were come to that daintiness, that they would not eat a fish unless upon the same day it was taken, " that it might taste of the sea," as they expressed it; and therefore had them brought by persons who rode post, and made a great outery, whereupon all other people. were obliged to give them the road. It was an usual expression for a Roman to say, "in other matters I may confide in you; but in a thing of this weight, it is not consistent with my gravity and prudence. I will trust nothing but my own eyes. Bring the fish hither, let me see him breathe his last." And, when the poor fish was brought to table swimming and gasping, would cry out, "Nothing is more beautiful than a dying mullet!" My friend says, the annotator looks upon these "as jests made by the Stoics, and spoken absurdly and beyond nature;" though the annotator at the same time tells us, that it was a law at Athens, that the fishermen should not wash their fish, but bring them as they came out of the sea. Happy were the Athenians in good laws, and the Romans in great examples! But I believe our Britons need wish their friends no longer life, than till they see London served with live herrings and gasping mackarel. It is true, we are not quite so barbarous but that we throw our crabs alive into scalding water, and tie our lobsters to the spit to hear them squeak when they are roasted; our eels use the same peristaltic motion upon the gridiron, when their skin is off and their guts are out, as they did before; and our gudgeons, taking opportunity of jumping after they are flowered, give occasion to the admirable remark of some persons' folly, when, to avoid the danger of the frying-pan, they leap into the fire. My friend said, that the mention of eels put him in mind of the concluding remark of the annotator, "That they who amongst the Sybarites would fish for eels, or sell them, should be free from all taxes." I was glad to hear of the word conclude; and told him nothing could be more acceptable to me than the mention of the Sybarites, of whom I shortly intend a history, showing how they deservedly banished cocks for waking them in a morning, and smiths for being useful; how one cried out because one of the rose-leaves he lay on was rumpled; how they taught their horses to dance; and so their enemies, coming against them with guitars and harpsichords, set them so upon their round o's and minuets, that the form of their battle was broken, and three hundred thousand of them slain, as Gouldman, Lyttleton, and several other good au

thors, affirm. I told my friend, I had much overstayed my hour; but if, at any time, he would find Dick Humelbergius, Caspar Barthius, and another friend, with himself, I would invite him to inner of a few but choice dishes to cover the table at once, which, except they would think of any thing better, should be a salacacaby, a dish of fenugreek, a wild sheep's head and appurtenance with a suitable electuary, a ragout of capon's stones, and some dormouse sausages.

If, as friends do with one another at a venisonpasty, you shall send for a plate, you know you may command it; for what is mine is yours, as being entirely your, &c.

THE ART OF LOVE:

IN IMITATION OF

OVID DE ARTE AMANDI.

bore the mastership in that art; and therefore, in the fourth book De Tristibus, when he would give some account of himself to future ages, he calls himself Teneroruin Lusor Amorum, as if he gloried principally in the descriptions he had made of that passion.

To the lord Herbert', eldest son of his excellency
the earl of Pembroke and Montgomery; baron
Herbert of Cardiff, Ross of Kendal, Parr, Fitz-
Hugh Marmion, St. Quintin, and Herbert of
Shutland; knight of the garter, &c. &c.

MY LORD,

The present imitation of him is at least such a one as Mr. Dryden mentions, "to be an endeavour of a latter poet to write like one who has written before him on the same subject; that is, not to translate his words, or be confined to his sense, but only to set him as a pattern, and to write as he supposes that author would have done, had he lived in our age and in our country. But he dares not say that sir John Denham3, or Mr. Cowley, have carried this libertin way, as the latter calls it, so far as this definition reaches." But, alas! the present imitator has come up to it, if not perhaps succeeded it. Sir John Denham had Virgil, and Mr. Cowley had Pindar, to deal with, who both wrote upon lasting foundations: but the present subject being love, it would be unreasonable to think of too great a confinement to be laid on it. And though the passion and grounds of it will continue the same through all ages; yet there will be many little modes, fashions, and graces, ways of complaisance and address, entertainments and diversions, which time will vary. Since the world will expect new things, and persons will write, and the ancients have so great a fund of learning; whom can the moderns take better to copy than such originals? It is most likely they may not come up to them; but it is a thousand to one but their imitation is better than any clumsy invention of their own. Whoever undertakes this way of writing, has as much reason to understand the true scope, genius, and force of the expressions of his author, as a literal translator: and, after all, he lies under this misfortune, that the faults are all his own; and, if there is any thing that may seem pardonable, the Latin at the bottom 3 shows to whom he is engaged for it. An imitator and his author stand much upon the same terms as Ben does with his father in the comedy, What thof he be my father, I an't bound pren

THE following lines are written on a subject that
will naturally be protected by the goodness and
temper of your lordship: for, as the advantages
of your mind and person must kindle the flames
of love in the coldest breast; so you are of an age
most susceptible of them in your own. You have
acquired all those accomplishments at home,
which others are forced to seek abroad; and have
given the world assurance, by such beginnings,
that you will soon be qualified to fill the highest
offices of the crown with the same universal ap-
plause, that has constantly attended your illustrious
father in the discharge of them. For the good of
your posterity, may you ever be happy in the
choice of what you love! And though these rules
will be of small use to you, that can frame much
better; yet let me beg leave that, by dedicating
them to your service, I may have the honour of
telling the world, that I am obliged to your lord-
ship; and that I am most entirely

your lordship's

most faithful humble servant,

WILLIAM KING.

PREFACE.

It is endeavoured, in the following poems, to give
the readers of both sexes some ideas of the art of
love; such a love as is innocent and virtuous, and
whose desires terminate in present happiness and
that of posterity. It would be in vain to think of
doing it without help from the ancients, amongst
whom none has touched that passion more ten-
derly and justly than Ovid. He knew that he

'Henry lord Herbert succeeded to his father's
titles in 1732, and died in 1749. N.

tice to 'en.

There were many reasons why the imitator transposed several verses of Ovid, and has divided the whole into fourteen parts, rather than keep it in three books. These may be too tedious to be recited; but, among the rest, some were, that matters of the same subject might lie more compact; that too large a heap of precepts together might appear too burthensome; and therefore (if small matters may allude to greater) as Virgil in his Georgies, so here most of the parts end with some remarkable fable, which carries with it some moral: Yet, if any persons please to take the six first parts as the first book, and divide the eight last, they may make three books of them again. There have by chance some twenty lines crept into the poem out of the Remedy of Love, which, (as inani

2 Dryden alludes to The Destruction of Troy, &c. N.

3 In the first editions of the Art of Cookery, and of the Art of Love, Dr. King printed the original under the respective pages of his translations, N. 4 Congreve's Love for Love. N.

mate things are generally the most wayward and provoking) since they would stay, have been suffered to stand there. But as for the love here mentioned, it being ali prudent, honourable, and virtuous, there is no need of any remedy to be prescribed for it, but the speedy obtaining of what it desires. Should the imitator's style seem not to be sufficiently restrained, should he not have afforded pains for review or correction, let it be considered, that perhaps even in that he desired to imitate his author, and would not peruse them; lest, as some of Ovid's works were, so these might be committed to the flames. But he leaves that for the reader to do, if he pleases, when he has bought them..

THE ART OF LOVE.

PART I.

WHOEVER knows not what it is to love,
Let him but read these verses, and improve.
Swift ships are rul'd by art, and oars, and sails :
Skill guides our chariots; Wit o'er Love prevails.
Automedon with reins let loose could fly;
Tiphys with Argo's ship cut waves and sky.
In love-affairs I'm charioteer of Truth,
And surest pilot to incautious youth.
Love's hot, unruly, eager to enjoy;
But then consider he is but a boy.
Chiron with pleasing harp Achilles tam'd,
And his rough manners with soft music fram'd:
Though he'd in council storm, in battle
rage,
He bore a secret reverence for age.
Chiron's command with strict obedience ties
The sinewy arm by which brave Hector dies:
That was his task, but fiercer Love is mine:
They both are boys, and sprung from race divine.
The stiff-neck'd bull does to the yoke submit,
And the most fiery courser champs the bit.
So Love shall yield. I own, I've been his slave;
But conquer'd where my enemy was brave :
And now he darts his flames without a wound,
And all his whistling arrows die in sound.
Nor will I raise my fame by hidden art;
In what I teach, sound reason shall have part:
For Nature's passion cannot be destroy'd,
But moves in Virtue's path when well employ'd.
Yet still 'twill be convenient to remove
The tyranny and plagues of vulgar love.
May infant chastity, grave matron's pride,
A parent's wish, and blushes of a bride,
Protect this work; so guard it, that no rhyme
In syllable or thought may vent a crime!
The soldier, that Love's armour would defy,
Will find his greatest courage is to fly:
When Beauty's amorous glances parley beat,
The only conquest then is to retreat:
But, if the treacherous fair pretend to yield,
'Tis present death, unless you quit the field.
Whilst youth and vanity would make you range,
Think on some beauty may prevent your change:
But such by falling skies are never caught;
No happiness is found but what is sought.
The huntsman learns where does trip o'er the lawn,
And where the foaming boar secures his brawn.
The fowler's low-bell robs the lark of sleep;
And they who hope for fish must search the deep:
And he, that fuel seeks for chaste desire,
Must search where Virtue may that flame inspire.

| To foreign parts there is no need to roam :
The blessing may be met with nearer home.
From India some, others from neighbouring France,
Bring tawny skins, and puppets that can dance.
The seat of British empire does contain
Beauties, that o'er the conquer'd globe will reign.
As fruitful fields with plenty bless the sight,
And as the milky w. y adorns the night;
So that does with those graceful nymphs abound,
Whose dove-like softness is with roses crown'd.
There tenderest blooms inviting softness spread,
Whilst by their smallest twine the captive's led.
There youth advanc'd in majesty does shine,
Fit to be mother to a race divine.
No age in matrons, no decay appears;
By prudence only there you guess at years.
Sometimes you'll see these beauties seek the
By lofty trees in royal gardens made;
Or at St. James's, where a noble care
Makes all things pleasing like himself appear;
Or Kensington, sweet air and blest retreat
Of him, that owns a sovereign, though most greats.
Sometimes in wilder groves, by chariots drawo,
They view the noble stag and tripping fawn.
On Hyde-Park's circles if you chance to gaze,
The lights revolving strike you with amaze.

[shade,

To Bath and Tunbridge they sometimes retreat,
With waters to dispel the parching heat:
But youth with reason there may oft' admire
That which may raise in him a nobler fire;
Till the kind fair relieves what he endures,
Caus'd at that water which all others cures.

Sometimes at inarriage-rites you may espy
Their charms protected by a mother's eye,
Where to blest music they in dances move,
With innocence and grace commanding love.
But yearly when that solemn night returns,
When grateful incense on the altar burns,
For closing the most glorious day e'er seen,
That first gave light to happy Britain's queen;
Then is the time for noble youth to try
To make his choice with a judicious eye.
Not truth of foreign realms, not fables told
Of nymphs ador'd, and goddesses of old,
Equal those beauties who that circle frame;
A subject fit for never-dying Fame: [thrown,
Whose gold, pearl, diamonds, all around them
Yet still can add no lustre to their own.

But when their queen does to the senate go,
And they make up the grandeur of the show;
Then guard your hearts, ye makers of our laws,
For fear the judge be fore'd to plead his cause;
Lest the submissive part should fall to you,
And they who suppliants help be forc'd to sue.
Then may their yielding hearts compassion take,
And grant your wishes, for your country's sake:
Ease to their beauties' wounds may goodness give;
And, since you make all happy, let you live.

Sometimes these beauties on Newmarket plains,
Ruling their gentle pads with silken reins,

5 George prince of Denmark, consort to the queen, greatly admired these fine gardens.-They were purchased by king William from lord chancellor Finch; were enlarged by queen Mary; and improved by queen Anne, who was so pleased with the place, that she frequently supped during the summer in the green-house, Queen Caroline extended the gardens to their present size, three miles and a half in compass. N.

Has not the emperor got some envoy here?
Wo'n't Danish, Swedish, Prussian lords appear?
Who represents the line of Hanover?
Don't the states general assist them all?
Should we not be in danger, if they fall?
If Savoy's duke and prince Eugene could meet
In this solemnity, 'twould be complete.
Think you that Barcelona could have stood
Without the hazard of our noblest blood?
At Ramilies what ensigns did you get?
Did many towns in Flanders then submit?
Was it the conqueror's business to destroy,
Or was he met by all of them with joy?
Oh, could my wish but fame eternal give,
The laurel on those brows should ever live!"

The British worth in nothing need despair, When it has such assistance from the fair. As Virtue merits, it expects regard; And Valour flies, where Beauty's the reward.