To this might we add that transporting Consideration, becoming both our Veneration and Admiration of the infinitely wise and glorious Author of Nature, who has given to Plants such astonishing Properties; such fiery Heat in some to warm and cherish, such Coolness in others to temper and refresh, such pinguid Juice to nourish and feed the Body, such quickening Acids to compel the Appetite, and grateful vehicles to court the Obedience of the Palate, such Vigour to renew and support our natural Strength, such ravishing Flavour and Perfumes to recreate and delight us:  In short, such spirituous and active Force to animate and revive every Faculty and Part, to all the kinds of Human, and, I had almost said Heavenly Capacity too.  What shall we add more?  Our Gardens present us with them all; and whilst the Shambles are cover’d with Gore and Stench, our Sallets scape the Insults of the Summer Fly, purifies and warms the Blood against Winter Rage:  Nor wants there Variety in more abundance, than any of the former Ages could shew.

Survey we their Bills of Fare, and Numbers of Courses serv’d up by Athenaeus, drest with all the Garnish of Nicander and other Grecian Wits:  What has the Roman Grand Sallet worth the naming? Parat Convivium, The Guests are nam’d indeed, and we are told,

  ——­[107]_Varias, quas habet hortus opes?_
  How richly the Garden’s stor’d: 

  In quibus est Luctuca sedens, & tonsile porrum,
  Nee deest ructatrix Mentha, nec herba salax, &c.

* * * * *

A Goodly Sallet!

Lettuce, Leeks, Mint, Rocket, Colewort-Tops, with Oyl and Eggs, and such an Hotch-Pot following (as the Cook in Plautus would deservedly laugh at).  But how infinitely out-done in this Age of ours, by the Variety of so many rare Edules unknown to the Ancients, that there’s no room for the Comparison.  And, for Magnificence, let the Sallet drest by the Lady for an Entertainment made by Jacobus Catsius (describ’d by the Poet [108]_Barlaeus_) shew; not at all yet out-doing what we every Day almost find at our Lord Mayor’s Table, and other great Persons, Lovers of the Gardens; that sort of elegant Cookery being capable of such wonderful Variety, tho’ not altogether wanting of old, if that be true which is related to us of [109]_Nicomedes_ a certain King of Bithynia, whose Cook made him a Pilchard (a Fish he exceedingly long’d for) of a well dissembl’d Turnip, carv’d in its Shape, and drest with Oyl, Salt, and Pepper, that so deceiv’d, and yet pleased the Prince, that he commended it for the best Fish he had ever eaten.  Nor does all this exceed what every industrious Gardiner may innocently enjoy, as well as the greatest Potentate on Earth.