you please, the French have it Jean Boudin, for his Fame had reached France, whose King would have given the World to have had our Jack for his Pudding-Maker. This Jack Pudding, I say, became yet a greater Favourite than his Mother, insomuch that he had the King’s Ear as well as his Mouth at Command; for the King, you must know, was a mighty Lover of Pudding; and Jack fitted him to a Hair, he knew how to make the most of a Pudding; no Pudding came amiss to him, he would make a Pudding

out of a Flint-stone, comparatively speaking. It is needless to enumerate the many sorts of Pudding he made, such as Plain Pudding, Plumb Pudding, Marrow Pudding, Oatmeal Pudding, Carrot Pudding, Saucesage Pudding, Bread Pudding, Flower Pudding, Suet Pudding, and in short, every Pudding but Quaking Pudding, which was solely invented by, and took its Name from our Good Friends of the Bull and Mouth before mentioned, notwithstanding the many Pretenders to that Projection.

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 likeing, (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; in short, Jack Pudding, or Sir John, grew to be all in all with good King John; he did nothing without him, they were Finger and Glove; and, if we may believe Tradition, our very good Friend had no small Hand in the Magna Charta. If so, how much are all Englishmen indebted

to him? in what Repute ought the Order of the Gridiron to be, which was instituted to do Honour to this Wonderful Man? But alas! how soon is Merit forgot? how impudently do the Vulgar turn the most serious Things into Ridicule, and mock the most solemn Trophies of Honour? for now every Fool at a Fair, or Zany at a Mountebank’s Stage, is call’d Jack Pudding, has a Gridiron at his Back, and a great Pair of Spectacles at his Buttocks, to ridicule the most noble Order of the Gridiron. But their Spectacles is a most ungrateful Reflection on the Memory of that great Man, whose indefatigable Application to his Business, and deep Study in that occult Science, rendred him Poreblind; to remedy which Misfortune, he had always a ’Squire follow’d him, bearing a huge Pair of Spectacles to saddle his Honour’s Nose, and supply his much-lamented Defect of Sight. But whether such an Unhappiness did not deserve rather Pity than Ridicule, I leave to the Determination of all good Christians: I cannot but say, it raises my Indignation, when I see these Paunch-gutted Fellows usurping the Title and Atchievements of my dear Sir John, whose Memory I so much venerate, I cannot always contain my self. I remember, to my Cost, I once carry’d my Resentment a little

farther than ordinary; in furiously assaulting one of those Rascals, I tore the Gridiron from his Back, and the Spectacles from his A—e; for which I was Apprehended, carried to Pye-powder Court, and by that tremendous Bench, sentenc’d to most severe Pains and Penalties.

This has indeed a little tam’d me, insomuch that I keep my Fingers to my self, but at the same time let my Tongue run like a Devil: Forbear vile Miscreants, cry I, where-e’er I meet these Wretches? forbear to ascribe to your selves the Name and Honours of Sir John Pudding? content your selves with being Zanies, Pickled-Herrings, Punchionellos, but dare not scandalize the noble Name of Pudding: Nor can I, notwithstanding the Clamours and Ill Usage of the Vulgar, refrain bearing my Testimony against this manifest piece of Injustice.

What Pity it is therefore, so noble an Order should be lost, or at least neglected. We have had no Account of the real Knights of the Gridiron, since they appeared under the fictitious Name of the Kit-Kat Club: In their Possession was the very Gridiron of Gold worn by Sir John himself; which Identical Gridiron dignified the Breast

of the most ingenious Mr. Richard Estcourt that excellent Physician and Comedian, who was President of that Noble Society.

Quis talia fando temperet à Lachrymis?

What is become of the Gridiron, or of the Remains of that excellent Body of Men, Time will, I hope, discover. The World, I believe, must for such Discoveries be obliged to my very good Friend J—— T—— Esq; who had the Honour to be Door-keeper to that Honourable Assembly.

But to return to Sir John: The more his Wit engaged the King, the more his Grandeur alarm’d his Enemies, who encreas’d with his Honours. Not but the Courtiers caress’d him to a Man, as the first who had brought Dumpling-eating to Perfection. King John himself lov’d him entirely; being of Cesar’s Mind, that is, he had a natural Antipathy against Meagre, Herring-gutted Wretches; he lov’d only Fat-headed Men, and such who slept o’ Nights; and of such was his whole Court compos’d. 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 Wine-Cellar at the same time.

This was a great Eye-sore and Heart-burning to some Lubberly Abbots who loung’d about the Court; they took it in great Dudgeon they were not Invited, and stuck so close to his Skirts, that they never rested ’till they Outed him. They told the King, who was naturally very Hasty, that Sir John made-away with his Wine, and feasted his Paramours at his Expence; and not only so, but that they were forming a Design against his Life, which they in Conscience ought to discover: That Sir John was not only an Heretic, but an Heathen; nay worse, they fear’d he was a Witch, and that he had bewitcht His Majesty into that unaccountable Fondness for a Pudding-Maker. They assur’d the King, That on a Sunday Morning, instead of being at Mattins, he and his Trigrimates got together Hum-jum, all snug, and perform’d many Hellish and Diabolical Ceremonies. In short, they made the King believe that the Moon was made of Green-Cheese: And to shew how the Innocent may be Bely’d, and the best Intentions misrepresented, they told the King, That He and his Associates offer’d Sacrifices to Ceres: When, alas, it was only the Dumplings they eat.

The Butter which was melted and pour’d over them, these vile Miscreants call’d Libations: And the friendly Compotations of our Dumpling-eaters, were call’d Bacchanalian Rites. Two or three among ’em being sweet-tooth’d, wou’d strew a little Sugar over their Dumplings; this was represented as an Heathenish Offering. In short, not one Action of theirs, but what these Rascally Abbots made Criminal, and never let the King alone ’till poor Sir John was Discarded. Not but the King did it with the greatest Reluctance; but they had made it a Religious Concern, and he cou’d not