Part 2
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 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 Paunch-gutted 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 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 of 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 of the most ingenious Mr. _Richard Estcourt_ that excellent Physician and Comedian, who was President of that Noble Society.
_Quis talia fando temperet a 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 was Yeoman of the Wine-Cellar at the same time.
This was a great Eye-sore and Heart-burning 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. 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 _Swineshead_ 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.
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 less-designing part of the Clergy were his intimate Friends, and eat daily of his Dumplings, he had doubtless been Made-away with; but 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 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, and put in, as is suppos'd, before the Bladder was blown full:
As Wynde in a Bladdere ypent, is Lordings promyse and ferment; fain what hem lust withouten drede, they bene so double in her falshede: For they in heart can think ene thing, and fain another in her speaking: and what was sweet and apparent, is smaterlich, and eke yshent. and when of service you have nede, pardie he will not rein 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 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 followed, 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 his Budget full of Punns, Connundrums and Carrawitchets; not to forgot 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 know he was a great Epicure, and had a very Sensible Mouth; he thought nothing too-good 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 Fricassee as well as a Pancake: And most of the Kickshaws now in vogue, are but his Inventions, with other Names; for what we call _Fricassees_, he call'd _Pancakes_; as, a Pancake of Chickens, a Pancake of Rabbets, _&c._ Nay, the _French_ call a Pudding an _English_ Fricassee, 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 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 difference 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 _Senefino_, 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.
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.
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 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.
[Footnote a: _The Cat run away with this part of the Copy, on which the Author had unfortunately laid some of Mother _Crump_'s Sausages._]
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 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 Grub-street, employ their impotent Pens against Pudding and Pudding-headed, _alias_ 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 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 as 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 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 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._
[Decoration]
* * * * * * * * *
[Decoration]
_Namby Pamby_:
or,
A PANEGYRIC on the New VERSIFICATION 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._