" I had thought of Saint-Evremond as
warrior and wit, delightful satirist and letter-writer. But here is a
streak of new light upon him: "Monsieur St. Euvremont makes thus his potage
de sante of boiled meat for dinner being very valetudinary.... When he is
in pretty good health, that he may venture upon more savoury hotter things,
&c." The most rigorous Protestants will relax to hear how "To make a Pan
Cotto as the Cardinals use in Rome." And if "My Lord Lumley's Pease
Pottage" sounds homely, be it known, on the word of the eloquent Robert
May, that his lordship "wanted no knowledge in the discerning this
mystery." What fastidious simplicity in the taste of the great is suggested
by "My Lord d'Aubigny eats Red-herrings thus boiled"!
But if Sir Kenelm consorted only with the great, it was with the great of
all social ranks. It was not merely on high questions of science he
discoursed with the discoverer of the circulation of the blood--witness
"Dr. Harvey's pleasant water cider." Then there was that "Chief Burgomaster
of Antwerpe," with whom he must have been on pretty intimate terms, to
learn that he "used for many years to drink no other drink but this [mead];
at Meals and all times, even for pledging of healths.
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