however licentiousness may abuse, or prejudice calumniate, or ignorance misconceive it, it will ever be cherished by the good, and defended by the wise.

Among the arts, there is none more universally felt and enjoyed, than that of the great actor; and there is none towards which the propensity is so widely manifested, through every stage of life, and in every state of society. Rude attempts at the dramatic art are made by children and savages. It is altogether conformed to the natural progress of manhood, that the same impulse which prompts the boy to wear the mock garb of the soldier, to attempt among his companions the oratory of the pulpit, and to assume the sceptre of the school, should, in after life, lead him to delight in the glories of men and times, in which he cannot even assume a part, and which can only exist to him in the scenic art; and that, tired of repeating the routine of daily life, he should refresh his soul, and expand his existence, in the creations of those who have exhausted worlds, and then imagined new." And it is equally in conformity to the progress of arts in society, that the wagon of Thespis should be supplanted and forgotten, in the splendid succession of ancient and modern theatres; that it should at first elevate only the rhapsodist, and, in the course of years, it should be transformed to the shrine of all the Muses. That the drama has employed the brilliant talents of some of the best men in modern times, is well known; and the rigidly pious may find, among the modern dramatic writers, names which have eminently adorned Christianity Young, Johnson, and Home, were particularly devoted to the interests of religion; but no scruple prevented them from contributing to the literature of the stage; nor did their late repentance admonish others, that the stage is not the field of honest and honourable fame.-We will remind those who deny themselves the gratification of theatrical exhibitions, of the nature of the self-denial they inflict-from an old Edinburgh Review, written when some, who read now, were too young to read, and which, perhaps, others who did read, have forgotten.

"The finest exhibition of talent, and the most beautiful moral lessons, are interdicted at the theatre. There is something in the word Playhouse, which seems so closely connected, in the minds of these people, [the Extra-Purists] with sin and Satan, that it stands in their vocabulary for every species of abomination. And yet why? Where is every feeling more roused in favour of virtue, than at a good play? Where is goodness so feelingly, so enthusiastically learned? What so solemn as to see the excellent passions of the human heart called forth by a great actor, animated by a great poet? To behold the child and his mother, the great man and the poor artisan, all ages and all ranks, moved by one common passion, wrung with one common anguish, and doing involuntary homage to the God that made their hearts! What wretched in

fatuation to interdict such amusements as these! What a blessing to mankind, to be allured from sensual gratification to find relaxation and pleasure in such pursuits!"-Edinburgh Review, No. 20.

Our observations have not been made with any view to combat prevailing opinions, further than to reconcile prevailing hostility; they are not designed to mislead youthful credulity, or to bring over honest conscience to the side of corrupt inclination; but to enlarge the circle of innocent pleasures and kind affections, to refine and exalt the recreations of daily life, to give some poetic colouring and imaginative charm to those leisure hours that are too often lost in ennui, or frittered away in heartless frivolity, or darkened by uncharitableness. To those who cannot believe in this mode of purifying and refining the intellect, who are so unhappily constituted as to imbibe poison from the nectar of human life--we leave the keeping of their own souls, warning them to avoid the pit whence contagion cometh; but, while they fully enjoy the liberty of refraining from scenes,-which are so beautiful and interesting to those "pure, to whom all things are pure," by a happy affinity of their hearts with what is good-we would enjoin upon them to possess their saintliness in peace, and not, by clamorous censures and unbecoming frowns, to exhibit the repulsiveness of their own principles, to the offence, and perhaps to the injury, of others who differ from them.

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ART. IV.-The Art of Cookery: in imitation of Horace's Art of Poetry with some letters to Dr. Lister, and others; occasioned principally by the title of a book published by the Doctor, being the Works of Apicius Caelius, concerning the Soups and Sauces of the Ancients; with an extract of the greatest curiosities contained in that book. Humbly inscribed to the Honourable Beef Steak Club. First printed in 1708, London.

THERE is a deficiency in the American character, or rather in American acquirements, which has not, to our knowledge, as yet excited the animadversions of our enemies; nor does it appear in its full importance to ourselves. We do not understand the Art of Cookery. This fact, though it may appear strange at the first blush, admits of a philosophical explanation. When our worthy progenitors fled from England, to pray in peace in the desert, it may easily be supposed they had little leisure to study this noble art. What with cajoling, or fighting the savages, making new settlements, and balling the numerous diseases occasioned by severe hardships, they could have had neither time nor inclination to discuss the merits of a beef steak or an oyster pie; and would

probably have turned up their eyes at such carnal thoughts. Nothing was therefore to be expected of them. The only improvements to be ascribed to the early settlers, are the various modes of dressing pumpkins in the East, and hominy in the South; but these are solitary instances The succeeding generation, after having righteously exterminated the Heathen, and improved upon their fathers' beginnings, were interrupted in their enjoyments by the war with the mother country; and in the course of this long struggle, how many rare invaluable recipes must have been destroyed! Nor is this the least of the evils attending upon war. When independence was at length achieved, and the affairs of the nation were settled, it was to be expected that men would turn their attention to the fine arts; among which we rank that of Cookery. But, while England and France have been eagerly running this glorious race, and endeavouring, with laudable emulation, to outstrip each other, America has looked supinely on the contest, and contented herself (which, by the way, is an old habit of hers,) with taking the profits, without the trouble of seeking for them.

It is wonderful to reflect, that we have not one rare dish which we can claim as original; and that, in our corporeal as well as our mental tastes, we are obliged to turn to the aid of foreigners. We have, it is true, a Turtle Club in this city; but we would venture to assert that the very soup is prepared by foreign hands. On this subject we cannot speak decidedly; for who ever heard of a Reviewer becoming a member of a Turtle Club? Alas! like Cassius-they are lean, and seldom seen to smile. While our transatlantic brethren crimp their salmon, we are content to kill them outright before we eat them. We know not the merits of brawn and we have seen many of our most polished countrymen, who slighted the claims of the inimitable pâtée fôie; and were prejudiced enough to call the process whereby the liver of the fowl was enlarged, an inhuman operation. Our most pretending epicures will eat of pig killed in the usual way, instead of having him whipped to death-an excellent English improvement,—thus bringing the flesh tender to the hands of the cook; or drowning him, in order to preserve his juices. Dr. Franklin has made some experiments in this line, which should be remembered to his honour. His mode of killing animals, by means of electricity, was an excellent one; though, like all improvements, it advances slowly, and the old way seems to be preferred. Cavillers may indeed start the objection, that butchers might be killed, as well as calves, by this new weapon: we would therefore suggest the necessity of butchers becoming natural philosophers; and who can tell how many a Franklin might rise from the greasy stall?

After all, the ancients obtained greater perfection in cookery, than any of the modern epicures can boast. Who thinks now of supping on nightingales, or dining on peacocks? Europeans and

Americans prefer fish fresh; but they do not ascertain that truth, nor watch their expiring agonies while they weigh them, as the Romans did of old. The name of Lucullus puts to shame the modern connoisseurs; and what recent sovereign can compare with that king of emperors, Vitellius, who spent, or caused to be spent, in the delights of the table, no less a sum than 7,265,625 pounds, in not quite one year? George the Fourth, the most redowned of gastronomists, can boast of nothing to equal that emperor's Shield of Minerva, which was an immense dish, filled with one hundred different delicious viands: Though it may be urged, that the British Sovereign has discovered classical taste in patronizing Roman punch.

Who now can tell of the savoury gout of an Ambracian kid, or a boar served up whole, stuffed with the flesh of other animals? Or who, that watches the arduous efforts of an awkward man, when dissecting a favourite fowl, but would wish himself in ancient Rome-where the servants were taught to carve to the sound of music? The affluent English, indeed, adhere to the ancient hours of feasting their dinner, so termed, agreeing with the Roman Cana; their meal at midday, with the Roman Prandium; besides the breakfast, answering to their Tentaculum. Another good old Roman custom, was their manner of drinking toasts: they poured out as many cyathi, as there were letters in the name of the fair one, or agreeing with the number of years the drinker wished his friend to live. We may imagine the many cordial wishes this practice elicited from the happy guests; nor wonder that they wore crowns of herbs and flowers, to prevent the intoxicating effects of the wine.

The Greeks also were good livers; witness their purple covered couches, their frankincense, (of which, by the way, our pastilles are an imitation,) and their odoriferous wines, perfumed with the breath of roses and violets. Grasshoppers steeped in boiling oil, the sea hedgehog, pigs stuffed with thrushes, beccafigoes, yolks of eggs, oysters and other shellfish, were among their favourite dainties. Why should those savoury sounding dishes be neglected— the first in particular, which was used as a relish by the Athenians, as we now take smoked beef. But it is not surprising that we are ignorant of the recipes of the ancients, when we disdain to stretch our hands to those immediately within our reach. How would Lucullus or Aristippus have smacked his lips over a delicate beaver's tail, as it lay melting in the rich fat; or the snout of a moose deer, to which the finest turtle cannot compare: yet, from these Indian" delicates" we ignorantly turn with disgust. The Romans could not have known the last dish, having no moose deer whose characteristic is an immense snout; though they used to eat deer dressed with broth made with pepper, wine, oil, honey, and stewed damsons; which is the origin of our custom of taking sweet sauce with venison. The hare was also a favourite with

ancient epicures; its blood being considered remarkably sweet, by reason of its fearful disposition: it was always served up like our grouse, bleeding, with no condiments to mingle with its own fine flavour. But the greatest dainty of all, which can only be compared to the inimitable maggot of South America, was a dormouse garnished with poppies; which an author, we shall speak of, calls a "soporiferous dainty, and as good as an owl pie to such as want a nap after dinner." But we turn, from the tempting sauces of the ancients, to our own degenerate times.

We have waited impatiently for some notice of the culinary art in our Reviews. We looked for it in vain in the Scientific Journal: we found it not in the Reports of the Literary and Philosophical Society and we are constrained to take up the pen, and arouse public attention to so important a subject; at the same time introducing to our reader the worthy Dr. King, who lived in sixteen hundred sixty-three, and was considered a man of wit and learning. His Art of Cookery is the most useful of his efforts, and betrays much curious erudition. By way of preface, the author addresses some letters to Dr. Lister, on his publishing the Essays of Apicius Cœlius; and the epistles are not the least entertaining part of the work,

SIR,

I AM a plain man, and therefore never use compliments; but I must tell you, that I have a great ambition to hold a correspondence with you, especially that I may beg you to communicate your remarks from the ancients concerning dentiscalps, vulgarly called tooth-picks. I take the use of them to have been of great antiquity, and the original to come from the instinct of Nature, which is the best mistress upon all occasions. The Egyptians were a people excellent for their philosophical and mathematical observations: they searched into all the springs of action; and, though I must condemn their superstition, I cannot but applaud their invention. This people had a vast district that worshipped the crocodile, which is an animal, whose jaws, being very oblong, give him the opportunity of having a great many teeth; and his habitation and business lying most in the water, he, like our modern Dutch whitsters* in Southwark, had a very good stomach, and was extremely voracious. It is certain, that he had the water of Nile always ready, and consequently the opportunity of washing his mouth after meals; yet he had farther occasion for other instruments to cleanse his teeth, which are serrate, or like a saw. To this end, Nature has provided an animal called ichneumon, which performs this office, and is so maintained by the product of its own labour. The Egyptians, seeing such an useful sagacity in the crocodile, which they so much reverenced, soon began to imitate it, great examples easily drawing the multitude; so that it became their constant custom to pick their teeth, and wash their mouths, after eating.'

* Whose tenter-grounds are now almost built upon.