[In the following essay, Ward provides a satirical history of the Kit-Cat Club.]

This Ingenious Society of Apollo's Sons, who, for many Years, have been the Grand Monopolizers of those scandalous Commodities in this Fighting Age, viz. Wit and Poetry, had first the honour to be founded by an Amphibeous Mortal, Chief Merchant to the Muses; and in these Times of Piracy both Bookseller and Printer, who having, many Years since, conceived a wonderful Kindness for one of the greasie Fraternity, then Living at the end of Bell-Court in Grays-Inn-Lane, where, finding out the Knack of humouring his Neighbour Bocai's Pallat, had, by his Culinary Qualifications, so highly advanc'd himself in the Favour of his Good Friend, that, thro' his Advice and Assistance, he Remov'd out of Grays-Inn-Lane to keep a Pudding-Pye-Shop near the Fountain-Tavern in the Strand, encourag'd by an assurance that Bocai and his Friends would come every Week to Storm the Crusty Walls of his Mutton-Pies, and make a Consumption of his Custards. About this time Bocai, who had always a sharp Eye towards his own Interest, having riggl'd himself into the Company of a parcel of Poetical young Sprigs, who had just Wean'd themselves of their Mother University, and by their prolifick Parts and promising Endowments, had made themselves the Favourites of the late bountiful Mecænas, who had generously promis'd to be an Indulging Father to the Rhiming Brotherhood, who had United themselves in Friendship, but were as yet unprovided for; so that now, between their Youth and the narrowness of their Fortunes, being just in the Zenith of their Poettick Fury, Bocai had a fair prospect of Feathering his Nest, by his new profitable Chaps, who having more Wit than Experience, put but a slender value, as yet, upon their Maiden Performances. Besides, the happy Acquaintance of these Sons of Parnassus gave him a lucky Opportunity of promoting the Interest of his beloved Engineer, so skill'd in the Fortification of Cheese-Cakes, Pies, and Custards; so that Bocai, to Ingratiate himself with his New Set of Authors, Invited them to a Collation of Oven-Trumpery at his Friend's House, where they were nobly Entertain'd with as curious a Batch of Pastry Delicacies as ever were seen at the winding up of a Lord-Mayor's Feast upon the Day of his Triumphs, that there was not a Mathematical Figure in all Euclid's Elements, but what was presented to the Table in Bak'd Wares, whose Cavities were fill'd with fine Eatable Varieties, fit for Gods or Poets. This procur'd the Cook such a mighty Reputation among his new Rhiming Customers, that they thought it a scandal to the Muses that so Heavenly a Banquet should go untag'd with Poetry, where the Ornamental Folds of every lushious Cheese-Cake, and the artful Walls of every Golden Custard, deserv'd to be Immortaliz'd; they could therefore scarce demolish the imbellish'd Covering of a Pidgeon-Pic without a Distick; or break thro' the sundry Tunicks of a Puff-Paste Apple-Tart, without a smart Epigram upon the glorious Occasion. Bocai wisely observing the good effects of this Paistry Entertainment; and finding that Pies to Poets were as agreeable Food, as Ambrosia to the Gods, very cunningly propos'd their Weekly Meeting at the same Place; and that himself would be oblig'd to continue the like Feast every Club-Day, provided they would do him the Honour to let him have the Refusal of all their Juvenile Products, which generous Proposal was very readily agreed to by the whole Poettick Clan: And the Cook's Name being Christopher, for brevity call'd Kit, and his Sign being the Cat and Fiddle, they very merrily deriv'd a quaint Denomination from Puss and her Master, and from thence call'd themselves The Kit-Cat-Club: And Bocai, in respect that he was Donor of the Feast, and promoter of this New Pudding-Pye Establishment, had the Honour to be chosen Chair-Man of the Society; to which presiding Authority, as most believe, he owes the Stateliness of his Brow, and the Haughtiness of his Temper. When Bocai had thus far been Successful in his new molition, he had now nothing else to do but to lay fresh Foundations for his young Artificers to Build upon, and never to come empty without some Project in his Head that might have a probable tendency to his own Profit. Now, every Week, the Listening Town was Charm'd with some wonderful Off-spring of their Teeming-Noddles: And the Fame of Kit-Cat began to extend it self to the utmost Limits of our learned Metropolis: Not a Court Countess could Compassionate her Lover with the tenderest of her Favours: The Young Buxom Wife of an Old Impotent Alderman be beholden to a Courtier to make her sensible of the difference between a strenuous Sportsman and a crazy Fumbler; a Gouty Lord select a Jilting-Mistress from that Fruitful Nursery the Theatre; or a Noted Beau be Cheated of a Hundred Guineas for a Second-Hand Maiden-head, but presently the pleasing Adventure was most notably handl'd by the Kit-Cat Bards, and Sung down to Posterity, nor indeed could a great Man dye whose Memory was worth an Elegy, but they would find a Way to add ten Guineas to his Funeral Charges; or a Man of Honour marry a celebrated Beauty, or a great Fortune, but they would draw him in with a charming Epithalamium to pay them Socket-Money.

Let them send their Wits a Wool-gathering as themselves thought fit Bocai having already tasted of the sweet Fruits of their early Labours, was resolv'd to venture at all, giving little else but Pies for Poetry, well considering he had this Advantage, that what the Publisher return'd, his Friend the Pastry-Cook took off his Hands at a better Price than the Trunk-Maker; so that the Poetical Fraternity had most of their Pies bottom'd with their own Excrement, which prov'd so considerable an Advantage to all chance Customers, that whoever came in for a Twopenny Tart, was assur'd to have a Penny-worth of Wit, or at least Poetry given into the Bargain, that when they had empty'd the Shell, they might have taught their Children to read upon the bottom Crust, as well as a Horn-Book: Among the rest of the celebrated Pieces that ow'd their Original to this Witty Society, that most accurate Banter upon the Hind and Panther, call'd the City-Mouse and the Country-Mouse, from thence stole into the World, and knaw'd such an ugly Hole in Poet Bays his Jacket, that it could never be mended without a Patch, as scandalous as the Flaw the unlucky Mice had made in it. This fortunate Off-spring, the Reverse of the Fable Mountain, tho' it only promis'd a Mouse, it produc'd a Monster, which was so wonderfully admir'd by the whole Town, that a Man had no Title to open his Mouth in Company for the Space of six Months after the Publication, if he could not demonstrate by some special Observation, that he had blest his Eyes with a Sight of the Prodigy; Nothing but Mouse, Mouse, was crept into every Body's Mouth, and the Towring Monuments of Praise, which Mr. Bays thought he had so firmly erected upon a lasting Foundation, were at once in Danger of being undermin'd by these diminutive Bacon eating Brethren, who were formidably sent forth in Battle Array to attack his Hind and Panther. This successful Flirt was so well Tim'd, so wittily Penn'd, and met with so kind a Reception from all the Protestant Readers, that the Fame of the Kit-Cats now spread it self universally, tho', thro' the Judgment of the Publick who are apt to be mistaken, he that had the least Share in the work, had the most of the Reputation, and in a little time after by the Favour of their Mecænas was singl'd out from the rest of the Herd, either as the best quallify'd for some peculiar Purposes, or the most deserving of his Lordship's Promotion, which of the two is something difficult to determine: But so it happen'd, that one Mouse run away with all the Bacon, whilst the other got Nothing but the empty Cubbard, upon which Occasion, the rest of the Kit-Cat Members, in a merry Mood, scribbl'd the following Epigrams, viz.

          A London Sheriffe kept so poor a House,
His empty Cubboard starv'd a hungry Mouse;
But kind Mecænas by two Mice addrest,
Tho' he starv'd One, he did the Other feast.

ANOTHER UPON THE SAME.

          Great Men like Fortune do their Gifts impart
To gratify themselves, not our Desert:
Why then, my Friend, art thou discountenanc'd,
To see less Merit for thy Wit advanc'd?
The Roman Poet did the Lines devise,
But he that stole the Fame, obtain'd the Prize.

A THIRD UPON THE SAME.

          Since one industrious Mouse took all the Pains,
'Tis hard the other should ingross the Gains:
But smooth Tongu'd Confidence will still prevail,
When Wit, eclips'd with Modesty, shall fail.

A FOURTH UPON THE SAME.

'Tis hard that one Mouse should be made a Rat,
          Feed on whole Flitches, and on Cheese of Cheshire,
Whilst t'other, who deserves to be as fat,
          Shall be deny'd the Comfort of a Rasher;
But mastiff Poets oft are doom'd to Starve,
Whilst Lap-dog Wits are hug'd, who less deserve.

About the same Time that one of the celebrated Mice was happily crept into the High-Road of Preferment, here, at Home, another of the witty Triumvirat, who had the Honour to be call'd my Lord D———s Boys, was put in a fair Way to make his Fortune Abroad; so that the Third, who had given much better Testimonies of his Wit, than any of 'em, was the only growing Genious of the Three that was left unprovided for; however, the Club being fam'd for the many smart Poems, and accurate Productions they had sent into the World, and having usurp'd the Bays from all the Town, They had by this Time rais'd themselves to such a Pitch of Reputation, that many of the Quality grew fond of sharing the everlasting Honour that was likely to crown the Poetical Society, insomuch that several Great Persons desir'd to be admitted Members of the Rhiming Community, some in Hopes to be accounted Wits; and others to avoid the very opposite Imputation; So that, by the Majority of the Members, it was now thought high Time to move out of the Scent of the Oven in hot Weather, and to adjourn their Club to the Fountain Tavern, it being wisely agreed by the whole Board, that a noble Cellar of Wine was a better Foundation for a Society of Wits to erect their Pyramids of Fame upon, than the Arch of an Oven, whose voracious Mouth had swallow'd so many Reams of their inchanting Labours. But notwithstanding they had thus determin'd to withdraw the Muses from the purring Musician, and her dancing Mice, from whence it is presum'd the Poetical Partners had borrow'd the lucky Title of that celebrated Piece that had so redown'd to their Credit, yet, in Honour to Bocai, they were still resolv'd to thankfully accept of his Weekly Banquet, and to continue him in the Post, which they had observ'd he was so proud of; so that tho' they chang'd their Residence, they preserv'd their Customs, and being now strengthen'd by the aweful Presence of Right Honourable Wits, and other wealthy Pretenders, who, tho' not quallify'd to be Poets, they were rich enough to be Patrons, and ready with an open Hand to bespeak the Honour of the next flattering Dedication, they began to set themselves up for Apollo's Court of Judicature, where every Authors Performance from the Stage-Poet to Garret-Drudg, was to be read, try'd, applauded, or condemn'd according to the new Sistem of Revolution Principles, of which, like Zealous Subjects, they have been always violent Asserters. Upon the additional Improvement of this High-Conrt of Wit, compos'd of Patrons, Critticks, Great Lords and Poets, Bocai, who had still the Honour of the Chair, thought it now high Time to look about him, and to charge his Blunderbuss with that necessary Confidence, that might propagate his Interest among great Men, and make him a fit Associate for those honourable Dons, who had favour'd the Club with their magnificent Appearances; so that tho' he had no Title to set himself up for a Wit, yet he had found by others, that if he did but varnish o'er his natural Endowments with a little fawning Conformity, and anoint the Tip of his Tongue with a due Quantity of Irish Pomatum, he might ingratiate himself as well in the Favour of the high and stately, as those Wits who had the Knack of blinding their Betters with the Ashes of the old Poets, and topping False Quotations out of defunct Authors, to justify their own Errors. By this Sort of Conduct Bocai made a very good Shift to get more by his Bookselling, than his Authors did by their Wit, and what was wanting to make his Company delightful, he was careful to supply with Cringe, Confidence and Cunning, so that he daily gain'd Ground in Respect to his Interest, and was Taught, in a little time, by the great Example of his honourable Customers, to exact as much Respect from his own Shop Fraternity, as he was forc'd to pay to his Betters: That tho' he look'd but like a Bookseller seated among Lords, yet, vice versa he behav'd himself like a Lord when he came among Booksellers. When their Pye Feast was over, and they had done commending of the Rose-Water Codlin-Tarts for their Helliconian Flavour, it was the Drawers next Business to clear the Board, bring every Man his Bottle and a clean Glass, and then the Wits, according to Custom, for the Divertion of the rest, would be so liberal of their Talents, that not a Roman Author, or a mouldy Worthy, could rest in their Graves for two Hours, but must be box'd about the Board, till every one had run over his whole Catalogue of Dead Bards and Emperours, to shew his Learning in remote Antiquities, neglecting all foresight to talk of Things past, as if, like Crabs, they had got a Faculty of running backwards. The Duke of M———h could not be nam'd without a Scipio to confront him, nor Prince Eugene mention'd without a Hannibal to oppose his Character, Ben Johnson, Shackspear or Dryden remember'd without such a contemptible Pish, as if they were only fit to write Stage Speeches for a Mountebanks Orators, or Ballads for Pye-Corner, yet their own Works sometimes should be blushingly repeated, that they might have a friendly Opportunity of tickling each other with reciprocal Flattery, and put that Policy in Practise; so much in Vogue among scabby Friends, viz. I'll scratch you, do you scratch me. In these Sort of learned Recreations that exercise the Mind instead of the Body, the Kit-Cat Wits us'd to waste their Hours, whilst the rest of the Members, who, perhaps, were not blest with so prolifick a Genious, would manifest by their Liberality, when the Reckoning came to be paid, the Satisfaction they had found in the witty Discourses of their wiser Brethren. Thus honest Bocai, and his fruitful Semenary of transcendant Wits, establish'd and continu'd their Kit-Cat Club for a Succession of Years, till at last burnt out of their dear Parnassus, where they had long been settl'd, and since they happen'd to be dethron'd by this surprising Misfortune: Whether their Joint-Wisdoms have thought it consistent with their infallible Prudence to remove nearer to, or farther from the old Kit-Cat Oven, I cannot as yet determine, but instead of a further Account, shall, according to the Method I have hitherto observ'd, conclude the Chapter with a Poem.

          Bright Phœbus, Parent of the tuneful Quire,
To whose kind Rays the Muses owe their Fire,
Shall now no more in mournful Lays complain,
That British Dullness clouds the Monarchs Reign,
Since Kit-Cat Wits thy ancient Title own,
Support thy Glory and assert thy Throne;
Great as Apollo's Court, the Brethren sit,
Claiming a Pow'r from thee, to judge of Wit;
Nor will their Juncto let unpolish'd Swains,
Prophanethy Altars with their croaking Strains;
But damn the Dross, will let no Counters pass,
That are not of their own Corinthian Brass;
So Princes, who the Right of Coinage claim,
Punish the Slave that dares to do the same,
Drag the poor Traytor to his farewell Pray'rs,
And hang him, tho' his Coin's as good as theirs.
          Supreme in Fancy, Tow'ring in Conceit,
The learn'd Cabal o'er Shoals of Custards meet,
Mix'd here and there with Gellies and with Tarts,
Set off with all Kits Culinary Arts.
          In lusheous Piles the charming Dainties stand
As if compos'd by some nice Ladies Hand;
One on his Plate does half a Cheese-Cake lay,
O'er which he Sings the Praise of Curds and Whey.
Like a great School-Boy reds the Childish Food,
And stroaking of his Belly, swears 'tis good.
          The next, to satiate his Luxuriant Gust,
Attacks a Pidgeon fortify'd with Crust,
Breaks down the Walls, and does most proudly say,
Thus did the British Heroes take Tournay.
          A Third, to sweetly sooth his craving Youth,
Ladles down Custard to delight his Tooth;
By Kit's Ambrosia does his Fancy Tune,
And hopes to grow more Wise by dint of Spoon.
          On a Minc'd-Pie a Fourth with fury falls,
Compares it to that fam'd Escurial Pauls:
That Nook, says he, which does this way extend,
Resembles very much the Western-End;
This the North Porch, and that the side that's South,
Then claps at once the Chancel in his Mouth;
Grinds down the Walls, does in a Passion cry,
Thus shall the Low-Church Triumph o'er the High.
          A Fifth with Gelly swells his Youthful Veins;
Pleases his Palat, and recruits his Reins:
Then fir'd with Lust he stretches on his Chair,
Crys, My dear Cloe, O ye Charming Fair:
What Mortal can thy powerful Darts withstand?
My Cloe shall have all at second Hand.
          A Sixth upon the Pile a sally makes,
And on his Plate a Curran-Tart he takes.
In pow'rful Words that do the subject sute,
Admires the Flavour, and extolls the Fruit:
To shew his Zeal affirms the grateful Juice,
Excels the Wine that Gallia's Grapes produce:
With a much richer Colour tempts the Eye,
And stains the Palat with a nobler Die,
Altho' his Conscience tells him 'tis a L———.
          Bocai, the gen'rous Master of the Treat,
Not fix'd to one, picks here and there Bit:
But lest the Female Food, so sweet and fine,
Should Rob him of the flavour of his Wine,
A Mutton-Pye, well season'd, is the last
Bak'd Toy he chuses to restore his Taste.
For kind Bocai, tho' now he's past his Prime,
Has been an Old Sheep-biter in his time;
Not only in the Gainful Skins a Dealer,
But of the Flesh has been a Fellow-Feeler.
          Thus once a Week the great divan of Wits
Inspire their Fancies with their dainty Bits:
Why not, since we in sacred Story find
That one fair Apple first inform'd Mankind:
Why then mayn't Modern Poets grow more Wise
By the Rich Taste of Kit-Cat's Apple-Pies?
One Cup of Hellicon the Bards allow,
Tho' Drank by Corridon that hands the Plow,
Will breed Poetick Maggots in his Head,
And make the new Rins'd Booby Write like Mad:
Therefore, since such strange Vertues have been found,
In Springs that rise in such Lean Baren Ground,
Who knows but Kit-Cat's Helliconian Tarts,
In time, may make a Dunce a Man of Parts.
          Feed on Luxurious Heroes of the Pen;
Poets, tho' next to Gods, may Eat like Men:
Some think the Race Divine, so Wise and Good,
Owe all their Knowledge to their Heav'nly Food,
And that if we, who move beneath the Skies,
Could once to Nectar and Ambrosia rise:
One Meal, from Death our fading Limbs would free,
And give us Mortals Immortality.
          Who knows but Kit-Cat Pies may do as well,
By them already you in Wit excell;
Triumph like Monarchs o'er the Riming Crowd,
Who tug like Slaves to Sing your Fame aloud,
Attend your Levies, dread your awful Pow'r,
Scribble beneath, whilst you have leave to tow'r,
And proudly have Usurp'd from all the Town
The very Right of Scandal and Lampoon:
So Tyrants, when they're too Puissant made,
Are not alone content to be Obey'd,
But will their Subjects Properties Invade.
          Go on great Wits, since from the Kit-Cat board,
A Poet has been made a mighty Lord,
An honour to the Pregnant Sons of Rhime,
Scarce known before in any Age of time:
Who knows but by the dint of Kit-Cat's Pies,
You may, e'er long, to Gods or Monarchs rise;
Then shall your Fame thro' all the World disperse,
Your own learn'd Pens your mighty Deeds rehearse,
And we your Subjects glory in your Verse.