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 To live the life of reason, and the gods Received due honour.

B.                Prithee rest awhile, And leave religion out.—   The same.

The art of cookery drew us gently forth From that ferocious life, when void of faith The Anthropophaginian ate his brother! To cookery we owe well-order'd states, Assembling men in dear society. Wild was the earth, man feasting upon man, When one of nobler sense and milder heart First sacrificed an animal; the flesh Was sweet; and man then ceased to feed on man! And something of the rudeness of those times The priest commemorates; for to this day He roasts the victim's entrails without salt. In those dark times, beneath the earth lay hid The precious salt, that gold of cookery! But when its particles the palate thrill'd, The source of seasonings, charm of cookery! came. They served a paunch with rich ingredients stored; And tender kid, within two covering plates, Warm melted in the mouth. So art improved! At length a miracle not yet perform'd, They minced the meat, which roll'd in herbage soft, Nor meat nor herbage seem'd, but to the eye, And to the taste, the counterfeited dish Mimick'd some curious fish; invention rare! Then every dish was season'd more and more, Salted, or sour, or sweet, and mingled oft Oatmeal and honey. To enjoy the meal Men congregated in the populous towns, And cities flourish'd, which we cooks adorn'd With all the pleasures of domestic life.—

The same.

Cook. Do you not know that cookery has brought More aids to piety than aught besides?