I Shall begin with his Motto, which says, What is bet­ter than a Pudding? The Body owns its Power, the Mind, its Delicacy; it will give Youth to grey Hairs, and Life to the most Desponding: Therefore are [Page 12] Pudding Eaters of great Use in State Affairs.

This Quotation is of a Piece with his Motto to the Tale of a Tub, and other Writings; altogether Fictiti­ous and Drole: he adds to the Jest, by putting an Air of Authority or genuine Quotation from some great Author; when alas! the whole is mere Farce and Invention.

The Dedication is one continued Sneer upon Authors, and their Pa­trons, and seems to carry a Glance of Derision towards Men of Quality in General; by setting a Cook above them, as a more useful Member in a body Politick. Some will have this Braund, to be Sir ****, others Sir ****, others Sir ****; but I take it to be more Railery than Mystery, and that Mr. Braund, at the Rummer in Queen-street, is the Person; who ha­ving pleas'd the Author in two or three Entertainments, he, with a View truly Epicurean, constitutes him [Page 13] his Maecenas; as being more agreeable to him than a whole Circle of Stars and Garters, of what Colour or De­nomination soever.

In his Tale of a Tub, he has a fling at Dependance, and Attendance, where he talks of a Body worn out with Poxes ill cured, and Shooes with Dependance, and Attendance. Not having the Book by me, I am forced to quote at Random, but I hope the courteous Reader will bear me out. He complains of it again in this Treatise, and makes a Comple­ment to Mr. Austin, Mr. Braund's late Servant; who keeps the Braund's Head in New Bond-street, near Hanover-Square; a House of great Elegance, and where he used frequently to dine.

The Distinction of Brand, Braund, and Barnes, is a Banter on Criticks, and Genealogists, who make such a Pother about the Orthography of Names and Things, that many Times, three Parts in four of a Folio Treatise, [Page 14] is taken up in ascertaining the Pro­priety of a Syllable, by which Means the Reader is left undetermined; having nothing but the various Read­ings on a single Word, and that pro­bably, of small Importance.

I heartily wish some of these Glos­sographists would oblige the World with a Folio Treatise or two, on the Word Rabbet: We shall then know whether it is to be spelt with an e, or an i. For, to the Shame of the En­glish Tongue and this learned Age, our most eminent Physicians, Sur­geons, Anatomists and Men Mid­wives, have all been to seek in this Affair.

• St. André,
• Howard,
• Braithwaite,
• Ahlers and
• Manningham,

Spell it with an e.

• Douglas
• and the Gen­tleman who calls himself Gulliver,

Spell it with an i.

And some of these great Wits, have such short Memories, that they [Page 15] spell it both Ways in one and the same Page.

The Master-Key to this Mystery, is the Explanation of its Terms; for Example, by Dumpling is meant a Place, or any other Reward or En­couragement. A Pudding signifies a P—t, and sometimes a C—tee. A Dumpling Eater, is a Dependant on the Court, or, in a Word, any one who will rather pocket an Affront than be angry at a Tip in Time. A Cook is a Minister of State. The Epicurean and Peripatetic Sects, are the two Par­ties of Whigg and Tory, who both are greedy enough of Dumpling.

The Author cannot forbear his old Sneer upon Foreigners, but says, in his 1st Page, ‘That finding it a Land of Plenty, they wisely resolved never to go home again,’ and in his 2d, ‘Nay, so zealous are they in the Cause of Bacchus, that one of the Chief a­mong them, made a Vow never to say his Prayers till he has a [Page 16] Tavern of his own in every Street in London, and in every Market-Town in England:’ If he does not mean Sir J—T—I know not who he means.

By the Invention of Eggs, Page 4. is meant Perquisites. ‘He cannot con­clude a Paragraph, in his 5th Page, without owning he received that important Part of the History of Pudding, from old Mr. Lawrence of Wilsden Green, the greatest Antiqua­ry of the present Age.’

This old Lawrence is a great Fa­vourite of the D—'s; he is a facetious Farmer, of above eighty Years of Age, now living at Wilsden Green, near Kil­burn in Middlesex, the most rural Place I ever saw: exactly like the Wilds of Ireland. It was here the D—n often retired incog. to amuse himself with the Simplicity of the Place and People; where he got together all that Rig­mayroll of Childrens talk, which com­poses his Namby Pamby. Old Law­rence [Page 17] told me, the D—n has sate se­veral Hours together to see the Chil­dren play, with the greatest Pleasure in Life: The rest he learned from the old Nurses thereabouts, of which there are a great many, with whom he would go and smoke a Pipe fre­quently, and cordially; not in his Clergyman's Habit, but in a black Suit of Cloth Clothes, and without a Rose in his Hat: Which made them conclude him to be a Presbyterian Parson.

This Mention of old Lawrence, is in Ridicule to a certain great Artist, who wrote a Treatise upon the Word Connoisseur (or a Knower) and confesses himself to have been many Years at a loss for a Word to express the Acti­on of Knowing, till the great Mr. Prior gave him Ease, by furnishing him with the Word Connoissance. Our D—n had drawn a Drole, Parallel to this, viz. Boudineur, a Pudding Pye­man; and Boudinance, the making of [Page 18] Pudding Pies: But several Men of Quality begging it off, it was, at their Request, scratch'd out, but my Friend, the Amanuensis, remembers particularly its being originally inserted.

If the Reader should ask, Who is that K —John mentioned in the fourth Page, and which I ought to have ta­ken in its Place. I beg leave to inform him, that by K. John is meant the late Q.—, with whom the D—of M—was many Years in such great Favour, that he was nick named K. John; it was in that Part of the Q—'s Reign, that Sir John Pudding, by whom is meant **** you know who, came in Favour; it is true, the Name is odd, and seems to carry an Air of Ridicule with it, but the Cha­racter given him by this allegorical Writer, is that of an able Statesman, and an honest Man.

And here, begging Mr. D—n's Par­don, I cannot but think his Wit has out run his Judgment; for he puts [Page 19] the Cart before the Horse, and begins at the latter Part of Sir **** Admi­nistration: But this might be owing to too plentiful a Dinner, and too much of the Creature. Be that as it will, I must follow my Copy, and ex­plain it as it lies. Proceed we there­fore to the Dissertation, Page 6.

‘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 liking (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.’

If this does not mean the late Re­vival of an ancient Order of Knight­hood, I never will unriddle Mystery [Page 20] more: To prove which, we need but cross over to the next Page, where he tells us, ‘Sir John had always a Squire, who followed him, bearing a huge Pair of Spectacles to saddle his Honour's Nose. Diss. Page 7.’

After this, he very severely runs upon those would-be Statesmen, who put themselves in Competition with his Favourite, Sir ****, with whom he became exceeding intimate, and almost inseperable, all the Time he was in England.

The Story of the Kit Cat Club, Dick Estcourt, and Jacob Tonson, is a mere Digression; and nothing more to the Purpose, than that we may ima­gine it came uppermost. He returns to his Subject in his 9th Page.

‘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 [Page 21] Wine-Cellar at the same Time.’

The Breakfast is Sir *** Levee, the Yeomanship of the Wine-Cellar, is the ***.

The Author of the Dissertation, is a very bad Chronologist; for at Page 10. we are obliged to go back to the former Reign, where we shall find the lubberly Abbots (i. e.) the High Church Priests, misrepresenting Sir John's Actions, and never let the Q—alone, till poor Sir John was discarded.

All the World knows that the Tory Ministry got uppermost, for the four last Years of the Queen's Reign, and by their unaccountable Management, teaz'd that good Lady out of her Life: Which occasion'd the D—n in his ele­venth Page to say; ‘Then too late he saw his Error; then he lamented the Loss of Sir John; and in his latest Moments, would cry out, Oh! [Page 24] that I had never parted from my dear Jack-Pudding! Would I had never left off Pudding and Dum­pling! then I 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.’

This alludes to Sir **** Imprison­ment and Disgrace in the Year—Nay, so barefaced is the D—n in his Allegory, that he tells us, in his 12th Page, Norfolk was his Asylum. This is as plain as the Nose on a Man's Face! The subsequent Pages are an ex­act Description of the Ingratitude of Courtiers; and his Fable of the Court Pudding, Page 13. is the best Part of the whole Dissertation.

One would imagine the D—n had been at Sea, by his writing Catharp­ing-Fashion, and dodging the Story sometimes Twenty-Years backwards, [Page 25] at other Times advancing as many; so that one knows not where to have him: for in his fifteenth Page, he returns to the present Scene of Action, and brings his Hero into the Favour of K —Harry, alias **** who being sensible of his Abilities, restores him into Fa­vour, and makes Use of his admi­rable Skill in Cookery, alias State Affairs.

[Page 26] This seems to hint at the Oppo­sition Sir **** met with from the contrary Party, and how sensible the K—was, that they were all unable to hold the Staff in Competition with him.

After this the D—n runs into a whimsical Description of his Heroes personal Virtues; but draws the Pi­cture too much Alla Carraccatura, and is, in my Opinion, not only a little too familiar, but wide of his Subject. For begging his Deanship's Pardon, he mightily betrays his Judgment, when he says, Sir John was no very great Scholar, whereas all Men of Learning allow him to be a most excellent one; but as we may suppose he grew pretty warm by this Time with the Book­sellers Wine, he got into his old Knack of Raillery, and begins to run upon all Mankind: In this Mood he falls up­on C—J—n, and Sir R—Bl—re, a Pair of twin Poets, who suck'd one and the same Muse. After [Page 27] this he has a Fling at Handel, Bononcini and Attilio, the Opera Composers; and a severe Sneer on the late High-Church Idol, Sacheverel. As for Cluer, the Printer, any Body that knows Music, or Bow Church Yard, needs no farther Information.

And now he proceeds to a Digression, which is indeed the Dissertation it self; proving all Arts and Sciences to owe their Origin and Existence to Pudding and Dumpling (i. e.) Encou­ragement. His Hiatus in the 20th Page, I could, but dare not Decy­pher.

In his 22d Page, he lashes the Au­thors who oppose the Government; such as the Craftsmain, Occasional Wri­ter, and other Scribblers, past, pre­sent, and to come. The Dumpling-Eaters Downfal, is a Title of his own Imagination; I have run over all Wil­ford's Catalogues, and see no Men­tion made of such a Book: All that Paragraph therefore is a mere Piece of Rablaiscism.

[Page 28] In his 23d Page, he has another confounded Fling at Foreigners; and after having determinately dubb'd his Hero, the Prince of Statesmen, he concludes his Dissertation with a Mess of Drollery, and goes off in a Laugh.

In a Word, the whole Dissertation seems calculated to ingratiate the D—n in Sir **** Favour; he draws the Picture of an able and an honest Minister, painful in his Countries Service, and beloved by his Prince; yet oftentimes misrepresented and be­ly'd: Nay, sometimes on the Brink of Ruin, but always Conqueror. The Fears, the Jealousies, the Misrepre­sentations of an enraged and disap­pointed Party, give him no small Un­easiness to see the Ingratitude of some Men, the Folly of others, who shall believe black to be white, because prejudiced and designing Knaves a­larm 'em with false Fears. We see every Action misconstrued, and Evil made out of Good; but as the best [Page 29] Persons and Things are subject to Scandal and Ridicule; so have they the Pleasure of Triumphing in the Truth, which always will prevail.

I take the Allegory of this Disser­tation to be partly Historical, partly Prophetical; the D—n seeming to have carried his View, not only to the pre­sent, but even, succeeding Times. He sets his Hero down at last in Peace, Plenty, and a happy Retirement, not unrelented by his Prince; his Honesty apparent, his Enemies baffled and con­founded, and his Measures made the Standard of good Government; and a Pattern for all just Ministers to follow.

Thus, gentle Reader, have I, at the Expence of these poor Brains, crack'd this thick Shell, and given thee the Kernel. If any should object, and say this Exposition is a Contradiction to the D—n's Principles; I assure such Objector, that the D—n is an errant Whig by Education, and Choice: He may indeed cajole the Tories [Page 30] with a Belief that he is of their Party; but it is all a Joke, he is a Whig, and I know him to be so; Nay more, I can prove it, and defy him to con­tradict me; did he not just after his Arrival and Promotion in Ireland, writing to one of his intimate Friends in London, conclude his Letter in this Manner?

This Letter, his Tale of a Tub, and in a Word, all his Invectives against Enthusiasm and Priestcraft, plainly prove him to be no Tory; and if his Intimacy, not only with Sir **** himself, but most of the prime Men in the Ministry, cannot prove him a Whig, I have no more to say.