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 Pa