AUTHOR OF "THE COOK'S ORACLE," "OBSERVATIONS ON VOCAL MUSIC," "THE ART OF INVIGORATING AND PROLONGING LIFE," "PRACTICAL OBSERVATIONS ON TELESCOPES, OPERA-GLASSES, AND SPECTACLES," "THE HOUSEKEEPER'S LEDGER," AND "THE PLEASURE OF MAKING A WILL." "I rule the roast, as Milton says! "--_Caleb Quotem_. [Footnote 25: Hood, for obvious purposes, slightly departs from the true spelling of Dr. Kitchiner's name. He was an M. D. of Glasgow, who, having been left a handsome fortune by his father, abandoned the active practice of his profession, and devoted himself to science, notably to that of optics, as well as to gastronomy, being himself eminent as a gourmet. He was the author of a once famous Cookery Book, _The Cook's Oracle_; and an improved kitchen range still bears his name.] Oh! multifarious man! Thou Wondrous, Admirable Kitchen Crichton! Born to enlighten The laws of Optics, Peptics, Music, Cooking-- Master of the Piano--and the Pan-- As busy with the kitchen as the skies! Now looking At some rich stew thro' Galileo's eyes,-- Or boiling eggs--timed to a metronome-- As much at home In spectacles as in mere isinglass-- In the art of frying brown--as a digression On music and poetical expression, Whereas, how few of all our cooks, alas! Could tell Calliope from "Callipee!" How few there be Could leave the lowest for the highest stories, (Observatories,) And turn, like thee, Diana's calculator, However _cook's_ synonymous with _Kater_! Alas! still let me say, How few could lay The carving knife beside the tuning fork, Like the proverbial _Jack_ ready for any work! II. Oh, to behold thy features in thy book! Thy proper head and shoulders in a plate, How it would look! With one rais'd eye watching the dial's date, And one upon the roast, gently cast down-- Thy chops--done nicely brown-- The garnish'd brow--with "a few leaves of bay"-- The hair--"done Wiggy's way!" And still one studious finger near thy brains, As if thou wert just come From editing some New soup--or hashing Dibdin's cold remains; Or, Orpheus-like,--fresh from thy dying strains Of music,--Epping luxuries of sound, As Milton says, "in many a bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out," Whilst all thy tame stuff'd leopards listen'd round! III.