when I ventured to say, that he whose absence rendered us so miserable was beyond a doubt the most miserable of all. Attention was distracted for a moment by an apparition. One of the party, better acquainted with the house than the others, penetrated to the kitchen; he returned quite overcome; his face announced the end of the world; and he exclaimed in a voice hardly articulate, and in that muffled tone which expresses at the same time the fear of making a noise and the desire of being heard: "Monseigneur set out without giving orders; and, however long his absence, dinner will not be served till his return." He spoke, and the alarm occasioned by his speech will not be surpassed by the effect of the trumpet on the day of judgment. Amongst all these martyrs, the most wretched was the good D'Aigrefeuille, who is known to all Paris; his body was all over suffering, and the agony of Laocoon was in his face. Pale, distracted, seeing nothing, he sat crouched upon an easy chair, crossed his little hands upon his large belly, and closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to wait the approach of death. Death, however, came not. Towards ten, a carriage was heard rolling into the court; the whole party sprang spontaneously to their legs. Hilarity succeeded to sadness; and in five minutes we were at table. But, alas! the hour of appetite was past! All had the air of being surprised at beginning dinner at so late an hour; the jaws had not that isochronous (isochrone) movement which announces a regular work; and I know that many guests were seriously inconvenienced by the delay.'-vol. i. pp. 93-96.

The Meditation entitled Gourmandise is replete with instructive remark; but we must confine ourselves to that part of it which relates to the ladies, who, since Lord Byron's silly prejudices upon the subject were made public, think it prettiest and most becoming to profess a total indifference as to what they eat. them hear our professor on this subject

Let

• Gourmandise is by no means unbecoming in women; it agrees with the delicacy of their organs, and serves to compensate them for some pleasures from which they are obliged to abstain, and for some evils to which nature appears to have condemned them. Nothing is more pleasant than to see a pretty gourmande under arms: her napkin is nicely adjusted; one of her hands is rested on the table; the other conveys to her mouth little morsels elegantly carved, or the wing of a partridge which it is necessary to pick; her eyes are sparkling, her lips glossy, her conversation agreeable, all her movements gracious; she is not devoid of that spice of coquetterie which women infuse into everything. With so many advantages she is irresistible; and Cato the Censor himself would yield to the influence.

The penchant of the fair sex for gourmandise has in it somewhat of the nature of instinct, for gourmandise is favourable to beauty. A

*The friend and principal gastronomic aide-de-camp of Cambacères.

It is a strange coincidence that Goethe, in Wilhelm Meister, expresses a similar dislike to seeing women eat.

train of exact and rigid observations have demonstrated that a succulent, delicate, and careful regimen repels to a distance, and for a length of time, the external appearances of old age. It gives more brilliancy to the eyes, more freshness to the skin, more support to the muscles; and as it is certain in physiology, that it is the depression of the muscles which causes wrinkles, those formidable enemies of beauty, it is equally true to say that, cæteris paribus, those who understand eating are comparatively ten years younger than those who are strangers to this science. The painters and sculptors are deeply penetrated with this truth, for they never represent those who practise abstinence by choice or duty, as misers and anchorites, without giving them the paleness of disease, the leanness of poverty, and the wrinkles of decrepitude.

Again, gourmandise, when partaken, has the most marked influence on the happiness of the conjugal state. A wedded pair endowed with this taste have once a day, at least, an agreeable cause of meeting. Music, no doubt, has powerful attractions for those who love it; but it is necessary to set about it,-it is an exertion. Moreover, one may have a cold, the music is not at band, the instruments are out of tune, one has the blue devils, or it is a day of rest. In gourmandise, on the contrary, a common want summons the pair to table; the same inclination retains them there; they naturally practise towards one another those little attentions, which show a wish to oblige; and the manner in which their meals are conducted enters materially into the happiness of life. This observation, new enough in France, had not escaped the English novelist Fielding; and he has developed it by painting in his novel of Pamela' the different manner in which two married couples finish their day.

'Does gourmandise become gluttony, voracity, intemperance? it loses its name, escapes from our jurisdiction, and falls within that of the moralist, who will deal with it by his precepts, or of the physician, who will cure it by his remedies. Gourmandise, characterised as in this article, has a name in French alone; it can be designated neither by the Latin gula, nor the English gluttony, nor the German lüsternheit; we, therefore, recommend to those who may be tempted to translate this instructive book, to preserve the substantive and simply change the article; it is what all natious have done for coquetterie and everything relating to it.'-vol. i. pp. 244-251.

Considering the high privileges attached to the character of a gourmand, we are not surprised at finding that it is not to be assumed at will. The next Meditation accordingly is headed N'est pas Gourmand qui veut, and begins as follows:—

'There are individuals to whom nature has denied a refinement of organs, or a continuity of attention, without which the most succulent dishes pass unobserved. Physiology has already recognised the first of these varieties, by showing us the tongue of these unfortunates, badly provided with nerves for inhaling and appreciating flavours. These excite in them but an obtuse sentiment; such persons are, with

regard

regard to objects of taste, what the blind are with regard to light. The second is composed of distraits, chatter-boxes, persons engaged in business, the ambitious, and others, who seek to occupy themselves with two things at once, and eat only to be filled. Such, for instance, was Napoleon; he was irregular in his meals, and ate fast and ill; but there again was to be traced that absolute will which he carried into everything he did. The moment appetite was felt, it was necessary that it should be satisfied, and his establishment was so arranged that in all places and at all hours, chicken, cutlets, and coffee, might be forthcoming at a word.'—vol. i. p. 252.

The habit of eating fast and carelessly is supposed to have paralysed Napoleon on two of the most critical occasions of his life, -the battles of Borodino and Leipsic, which he might have converted into decisive and influential victories by pushing his advantages as he was wont. On each of these occasions he is known to have been suffering from indigestion. On the third day of Dresden, too, the German novelist Hoffman, who was present in the town, asserts that the emperor would have done much more than he did, but for the effects of a shoulder of mutton stuffed with onions-a dish only to be paralleled by the pork chops which Messrs. Thurtell and Co. regaled on after completing the murder of their friend Mr. Weare.

The gifted beings predestined to gourmandise are thus described:

They have broad faces, sparkling eyes, small foreheads, short noses, full lips, and round chins. The females are plump, rather pretty than handsome, with a tendency to embonpoint. It is under this exterior that the pleasantest guests are to be found; they accept all that is offered, eat slowly, and taste with reflection. They never hurry away from the places where they have been well treated; and you are sure of them for the evening, because they know all the games and pastimes which form the ordinary accessaries of a gastronomic meeting.

་

Those, on the contrary, to whom nature has refused an aptitude for the enjoyments of taste, have long faces, long noses, and large eyes; whatever their height, they have always in their tournure a character of elongation. They have black and straight hair, and are above all deficient in embonpoint: it is they who invented trowsers. The women whom nature has afflicted with the same misfortune are angular, get tired at table, and live on tea and scandal.'-vol. i. p. 254.

Out of the many modes proposed of testing this theory, we shall confine ourselves to one-the judicious employment of eprou

vettes:

We understand, by eprouvettes, dishes of acknowledged flavour, of such undoubted excellence, that their bare appearance ought to excite in a human being, properly organised, all the faculties of taste; so

that

that all those in whom, in such cases, we perceive neither the flush of desire nor the radiance of ecstacy, may be justly noted as unworthy of the honours of the sitting and the pleasures attached to it.'

A distinguished gastronomer, refining on this invention, proposes eprouvettes by negation. When, for example, a dish of high merit is suddenly destroyed by accident, or any other sudden disappointment occurs, you are to note the expression of your guests' faces, and thus form your estimate of their gastric sensibilities. We will illustrate this matter by an anecdote which our author has forgotten to note.

Cardinal Fesch, a name of honour in the annals of gastronomy, had invited a large party of clerical magnates to dinner. By a fortunate coincidence two turbots of singular beauty arrived as presents to his Eminence on the very morning of the feast. To serve both would appear ridiculous, but the Cardinal was, notwithstanding, most anxious to have the credit of both. He imparted his embarrassment to his chef- Be of good faith, your Eminence was the reply, both shall appear: both shall enjoy the reception which is their due.' The dinner was served: one of the turbots relieved the soup. Exclamations unanimous, enthusiastic, religious, gastronomical-it was the moment of the eprouvette positive. The maître d'hôtel advances: two attendants raise the monster and carry him off to cut him up; but one of them loses his equilibrium: the attendants and the turbot roll together on the floor. At this sad sight, the assembled Cardinals became pale as death, and a solemn silence reigned in the conclave-it was the moment of the eprouvette negative-but the maître d'hôtel suddenly turns to the attendant- Bring another turbot,' said he, with the most perfect coolness. The other appeared, and the eprouvette positive was gloriously renewed.

You shall see what a book of cookery I shall make'-said Dr. Johnson, and the reader will not fail to observe that this is the fourth time we have been enabled to appeal to him as an authority -Women can spin very well, but they cannot write a good book of cookery.* I could write a better book of cookery than has ever yet been written; it should be a book on philosophical principles.' What the great moralist contemplated, Ude has done. The French Cook' is founded on the purest principles of practical philosophy, and comprises almost everything that could be desired in a publication of the sort :—

In offering to the public,' (says the advertisement,) the twelfth edition of his work, the author is anxious to express his grateful sense

* See Croker's Boswell, vol. iv. p. 143.-Mrs. Glasse's book was written by Dr. Hunter; but we believe Mrs. Rundell's more recent opus magnum was entirely her own.

of

of the favour which it has received. He reflects with pride that he has been the instrument, however humble, of extensively introducing into this country a taste for, as he conceives, a better and certainly a more scientific species of cookery. That he is warranted in making this assertion, the circulation of upwards of twelve thousand copies of "The French Cook" is abundant proof. To render the work still more deserving of public favour, and more generally useful to all classes of society, he has in the present edition thoroughly revised, and in some measure re-written, every receipt-remodelled his plan of arrangement so as to present the most obvious facilities of referenceand translated every French term, so far as it was possible (some of the technical phrases being incapable of translation). He has also added much new matter, especially an appendix of observations on the meals of the day; with his mode of giving suppers at routs and soirées, as practised when the author was in the employ of Lord Sefton; suppers which were at the time admired and attempted to be imitated by the maîtres d'hotel of several ladies of rank.'

We turn at once to the section in which these admired and attempted-to-be-imitated' suppers are described :

I found that the ladies used to regard with dread those narrow benches which disordered the pleasing arrangement of their dresses, and that those who had the misfortune to be seated in the centre of the forms found themselves absolutely imprisoned, not being willing to disturb the company seated on either side of them; and at other times, when the two ends of the seats were filled, they were prevented by decency from clambering over the middle of the benches, for which reason many persons went without supper, notwithstanding the immense expense which the Amphitryons had incurred for their convenience and gratification.

'I ventured, therefore, to suggest to the nobleman whom I had then the honour of serving, that a supper might be given which should satisfy at once the guest by the excellence of the repast and the novelty of the arrangement, and the host by the smallness of the expense incurred.

My plan for a ball is to ornament the sideboard with a basket of fruit, instead of insignificant pieces of pastry, which are at once expensive in making and objects of ridicule to the connoisseur. Place in their stead things that can be eaten, such as jelly, plates of mixed pastry, and sandwiches of a superior kind; and if the founder of the feast be great and generous, avail yourself of his generosity and make excellent articles, but never in too great confusion. The chief fault of all cooks is that they are too profuse in their preparations. The persons who attend a ball given by one of the nobility are it is to be presumed of the same class, and have the same customs,-dining at a late hour, and are not to be tempted even by the most enticing assemblage of aspic of fowls, of lobsters, of fillet of sole, of ham, &c. 'Take care not to load the sideboard with anything but dishes agreeably but simply prepared. The lovers of good cheer do not like objects