Pliny classifies the bitter seed of the _Lupin_ as a grain pertaining to that of wheat;[VI-9] and if you soak it, he says, in boiling water, it becomes so mild that it can be eaten.[VI-10] Zeno, of Citium, was of the same opinion. This philosopher, with all his wisdom, could not help showing his bad temper, even towards his best friends at times, but was very affable after he had quaffed several cups of delicious wine. One day he was asked for an explanation of this contrast in his temper. “That is very simple,” he replied; “I am of the same nature as the lupins: their bitterness is insupportable before they are soaked, but they are of an exquisite mildness when they have been well steeped.”[VI-11] We strongly doubt, nevertheless, whether this plant has ever been honoured by the patronage of connoisseurs and people of delicate taste; a very high authority in cookery--Lycophon, of Chalcis--used to say, with a kind of disdain, that this despicable plant was hardly good enough for the common fare of the mob, or to feast the guests at a beggar’s table.[VI-12] It was principally used as food for cattle, and not without reason, if it be true that twenty pounds of lupins are sufficient to fatten an ox.[VI-13] The lovers of etymology, who may be classified in the family of readers of logogriphs, were in raptures at finding the following: “The Latin name of _Lupinus_ has been given to this grain because the lupin wears out and destroys the land nearly as the wolf destroys and devours the flocks; whereupon they exclaimed, with pride, ‘_Lupinus à lupo!_’ ”[VI-14] At the period when the gods did not exact much, but were contented with humble offerings, men placed on the altars loaves made of _Linseed_ meal; a treat the immortals gratefully accepted, though certainly it would not much tempt us[VI-15] of the present day. The Asiatics afterwards thought of pounding the linseed, frying it, and mixing it with honey; these cakes seemed to them too good for their divinities, so they ate them themselves.[VI-16] In the time of Pliny, the Lombards and Piedmontese ate this miserable bread of the gods, and even found in it a most agreeable flavour:[VI-17] these nations have since improved their taste. Shall we mention _Hempseed_, the _Cannabis_ of the ancients, which was served fried for dessert?[VI-18] That hemp should be spun and made into ropes, well and good; but to regale one’s-self with it after dinner,--when the stomach is overloaded with food, and hardly moved from its lethargic quietude by the appearance of the most provoking viands that art can invent--what depravity! What strange perversion of the most simple elements of gastronomy! The Arabs, that wandering nation, who are not yet acquainted with the roasting-spit, nor the voluptuousness of a delicious repast, formerly intoxicated themselves with a beverage extracted from linseed;[VI-19] we, who are in possession of generous wine, let us deplore such excesses, and not imitate them. VII.