hat though we cannot have
them at the same time, yet, at least, we may talk about them at all
times.

This great genius seems to have travelled over land and seas that he
might critically examine the things themselves, and improve, with new
discoveries, the table-luxuries. He indicates the places for peculiar
edibles and exquisite potables; and promulgates his precepts with the
zeal of a sublime legislator, who is dictating a code designed to
ameliorate the imperfect state of society.

A philosopher worthy to bear the title of cook, or a cook worthy to be a
philosopher, according to the numerous curious passages scattered in
Athenaeus, was an extraordinary genius, endowed not merely with a natural
aptitude, but with all acquired accomplishments. The philosophy, or the
metaphysics, of cookery appears in the following passage:--

"Know then, the COOK, a dinner that's bespoke,
Aspiring to prepare, with prescient zeal
Should know the tastes and humours of the guests;
For if he drudges through the common work,
Thoughtless of manner, careless what the place
And seasons claim, and what the favouring hour
Auspicious to his genius may present,
Why, standing 'midst the multitude of men,
Call we this plodding _fricasseer_ a Cook?
Oh differing far! and one is not the other!
We call indeed the _general_ of an army
Him who is charged to lead it to the war;
But the true general is the man whose mind,
Mastering events, anticipates, combines;
Else is he but a _leader_ to his men!
With our profession thus: the first who comes
May with a humble toil, or slice, or chop,
Prepare the ingredients, and around the fire
Obsequious, him I call a fricasseer!
But ah! the cook a brighter glory crowns!
Well skill'd is he to know the place, the hour,
Him who invites, and him who is invited,
What fish in season makes the market rich,
A choice delicious rarity! I know
That all, we always find; but always all,
Charms not the palate, critically fine.
Archestratus, in culinary lore
Deep for his time, in this more learned age
Is wanting; and full oft he surely talks
Of what he never ate. Suspect his page,
Nor load thy genius with a barren precept.
Look not in books for what some idle sage
So idly raved; for cookery is an art
Comporting ill with rhetoric; 'tis an art
Still changing, and of momentary triumph