❧ An introduction into phisycke, with an universal diet, gathered by Christofer Laugton. E W ¶ To the right worshipful knight sir Arthure Darcye his humble servant Christofer Langton wisheth health & increase of virtue. A Soft as I remember your kindness and benevolence toward me (my singular good master) it is hard to say, how greatly I desire to recompense the same: jest I should either seem unkind and unthankful, or else not to understand and perceive the greatness of your manifold benefits, employed upomme: of the which, as the one is a sign of a naughty heart, so the other is a token of a dull wit: but they be both very evident arguments of unthankfulness and ingratitude. From the which, as I have always hitherto abhorred, so I desire now to be void from all suspicion of the same. For me think, I perceive every day more and more, how moche shame and filthiness is in that vice, almost by the testimony of every wise man in so much that I think him to trespass greatly, against the society of this our common life, which doth unthankefullye receive benefits of any man. For as gratitude or thankfulness doth increase lyberalitye, which is the especial part of justice: so ingratitude dissolveth utterly, and abolysheth the same: the which liberality, if it fall one's in decay, it taketh away the commutation of offices and the doing of one for an other, the which once taken away, what help I pray you is left to the conservation of the common wealth, sing that the hole course of our life, consisteth in the society and mutual doing one for an other. Wherefore the wise kings of the Parcians made laws, for to punish such as were unkind and unthankful personnes, because they thought none to be so unnatural as they, nor any to trespass more against the common weal. These & other such (mine especial good master) hath caused me to desire vehemently, to show some token of the pure zeal and love which I have ever born unto you, jest I should be found unnatural, either unto you, or to this my native country. Wherefore seeing that fortune hath given me no richesse, wherewith I might long year this have recompensed some part of your kindness, I thought meet to offer unto you, the first fruits of my studies and learning, verily trusting, that your wisdom will esteem for the best, my loyal heart, and diligent endeavour, although my book peradventure shall not satisfy your expectation. ¶ Physyke speaketh in her own person, to her ministers and Phisicious. AFter that Prometheus had stolen fire out of heaven, the father and ruler of the goddess jupiter, being sore offended with his malicious fact, sworn by a great oath, that he would not only be revenged upon him, but of all his posterity, wherefore, commanding his son Vulcanus to shape a beautiful woman, called all the gods, and goddesses together, to whom he spoke on this fassyon: what availeth us our sceptre & crown most valiauntlye conquered, of our father Saturn? whom we deposed for tyranny: what availeth us the notable victory of Thiphocus and his brethren? or the punishments of Titius, Tantalus, Siliphus, and Ixion? sing that one can not be ware by an others harm. I am sure none of you be ignorant of our injuries, which we have received of the hands of Prometheus: my wife and sister juno, for Paris his sake destroyed the whole nation of the Troyans', and my daughter Minerva burned an hole navy of the Grecians, for one man's offence: and shall we jupiter father of all the gods, and ruler of heaven and earth, suffer our eternal fire to be stolen out of heaven unpunished? while he spoke these words, Mulciber his son brought in the lady which was now already shapen, than jupiter, commanding as well gods as goddesses, to trim & deck her to the uttermost, named her Pandora, because every god and goddess had given her something, and he himself giving her a box, wherein was enclosed all manner of diseases and maladies, sent her to Epimetheus, by his son and faithful messenger Mercurius, which Epimetheus, although he were warned of his broher Prometheus to receive no gift from jupiter, most lovingly retained her: and opening her box, let forth abroad all manner of maladies, and diseases, wherewith all mankind was cruelly punished, until such time as jupiters' furor and indignation was somewhat slaked through the prayer of Esculapius, to whom he sent me as a remedy and medicine, to all such evils and gryeffes. whom for his faithful service, I made a god. And I pray you, have I not rewarded both Hypocrates & Gallene accordynglye? seeing that at this day they are glorified in fame as much as either Alexander Magnus, or any other notable prince? but out alas what cruel fate of fortune is this, that I sometime the spring & well of all felicity and goodness unto man, am now clean turned to the contrary. For where as before I was author of health, to every manseking for me: now I am not only a common murderer, and a common thief, but also a mayntayner of Parricides, moche more vile than the stinking whore of Babylon. For you that be my ministers and Physicians to you I speak: I pray you tell me, why doth every man now utterly abhor my company? trumping eftsoons in my way, who is willing to die, let him go to Phisyke: who is willing to be rob of his money, let him go to Phisyke, if I be not a thief & a murderer? But what said I, did I call you my servants? no, I know you not, & much less you know me: woe shall be unto you, which ravyshing me against my will, hath thus brought me in captivity & bondage, woe shallbe unto you, which for your own lucre and advantage, hath made me an instrument of mischief: woe shall be unto you which have slandered me with the death of so many thousands: woe shall be unto you that have rob and polled of their money so many nations. But peradventure you will say that I wrongfully and without all cause do sclaundre you, laying the fault in me, that you heal not as other, that were my servants and ministers did, because there is not like virtue in me now, as was then: and whereof I beseech you cometh that? of me, or of you, which know me not? For what soever he be that hath not exactly learned natural philosophy, be he never so well practised, he never knew me. Therefore whosoever will be my servant, let him first be sure that he have a good natural wit that he may be able to practise any thing that is taught him, and than let him be exercised, even from his tender age, in dialect, arithmetic, and mathematic, he must also be very painful, setting his mind on nothing but only on learning, and conferring his studies always with the best, and aught always to be a very diligent searcher of the truth, forsaking all other things, and cleaving holly unto it. Moreover he must take an order in his studies, not beginning as the most part of you do, with the simples, and practise at the first, overleaping the elements, the temperatures, the section of the body, with all the faculties and actions of the same: then after he hath constitute an order, in his studies, he must exercise the same: & so doing he shall not need to seek on me, for I will offer myself to him, without any seeking. But as for you that have not sought my service of this sort, you little know me: yet with your lying and craking, calling yourselves excellent Physicians, you have brought me in deep sclaundre with you, but I counsel you take heed, and leave your lying, jest I put you to a foul rebuke: and if there be any of you that knowledgeth his fault, and would serve me, I have already showed him a way, without the which it is not possible to know me. Now you know my mind, beware how you presume to my service. The i Chapter. ¶ Of the diversity of sects in physic, & which are to be followed. THe old and ancient physicians, among the Greeks which passed all other in physic were divided into iii sects. They that were of the first sect, were called Empirici: and they that were of the second sect, were called Methodici: the last and best were called dogmatici. Empirici were they that wrought only by experience, and thought it a great point of wisdom in no case to admit reason, marking very diligently, by what manner means they had healed any maladies or diseases, in the which if they had like success afterward by help of the same medicines, than they were bold to call that same medicine, by the which they had helped oftentimes one kind of disease, Preceptum fidele, which is as much to say as a faithful precept, and when they had gathered of these a great numbered, they called the whole gatheriges in greke, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: which in Latyn word for word, is as much to say, as Intuitus proprius. and in our vulgar tongue, it may very well be called a certain memory of those things, the which hath been seen oftentimes to chance of one sort, the which also may very well be called experience, for it is nothing, but an observation and memory of that which hath chanced oftentimes after one fashion. Than after that they had gathered after th●s fashion, a great many of experiments, they did utterly abolish, and condemn all reason as void, and of none effect to the learning of phisyke. They did also nothing regard the time of the year, the temperature of the wether, nor yet the powers of the patient, putting no difference betwixt young and old, weak or strong, hot or could, dry or moist, but thought that they might safely venture that upon one, with the which they had healed another in like disease, and of this sect was Thessalus, & Cornelius Celsus, with all their scholars. The second sect was called Methodica, the which did nothing regard the place affected, nor the cause of the gryefe, nor the age of the patient, nor the time of the year: nor the temperature of the country, nor the habit of the sick man, nor yet the kind of his former life, & constantly affirming that there was but two diseases, the one the stopping of the pores, and the other the overmuch opening of the same: condemned utterly Hippocrates, because he said that physic was a long art and that man's life was very short: for they affirm that it is clean contrary, that is to say, that man's life is long, and phisyke is so short an art, that if all things which (as they say) be superfluous, were cut out: it might be learned easily in vi months. They dissent also from the first sect of physicians, in that they think there cometh no profit of expe●ience, until such time as they have learned the virtues & faculties of medicines and remedies And moreover that it is not possible to find any remedy or medicine, by diligent marking, sing that all remedies, be gathered of such things as be evident to the sense, and of this sect and opinion was Erassistratus, & Asclepiades with all their retinue. The third and last sect were called Dogmatici, the which joined experience always with reason (considering very diligently the causes of the evil, as well those that be obscure, and hard to find as those also, which are evident and open to every man's eye) and doth give much both to the nature of the air & water, and region, where the sick abideth, steadfastly affyrming that it is most necessary for the Physicians, both to know and consydre the differences of the same, & also to mark diligently his accustomed diet, as well in meats and drinks, as baths, exercises, and other things. And to compare things that be past, with such as be present, & to know perfitly the powers and virtues of medicines, by the which they may take easily away the cause of all maladies, and finally that he be such a one the which can prove and improve by good reason, that this medicine hath this facultye of nature, to the which he may attain, by the help of Logycke, he must know also (they say) the internal parts, by diligent search, and cuttynges of bodies, he must be seen also in natural philosophy, astronomy, Mathematycke, and Arithmatycke. Of this sect was Galen, and long before him Hipocrates, whom would to God our Physicians would set as a glass before their eyes, I would then think, that Physycke should not be so little set by as it is. But alas, there is no man's Physycke so little regarded now a days as Galennes is, and in deed to say the truth, it may very well be perceived, by their doings, that they wernever Galennes scholars: for he teacheth them, not to judge all diseases by the urine, where as the most part of them (I do not say all) after that they have once seen the water of the sick, yea though they never knew him, nor can not be informed by the bearer in what state he is in, will not stick to write the Appotecarie a byl for such manner of drugs, the if they were laid before their eyes, they could not tell, whether they were the same that they writ for, or no. How is it possible for these Physicians, to do any less than kill their pacientes, but it maketh the less matter, seeing they be hired to it, with gold and silver. Well, I will say no more at this time, but surely, if I were disposed I could prove that there is as much juggling, and deceyving of the people now a days amongst our physicians, I will name none (but every man knoweth his own weakness and infirmity) as ever was amongst the popish priests, and a redress might be had, if it pleased the kings highness, that none might be suffered to practise, but such as be learned. The ii Chapter. ¶ Of the Elements. NOw after that I have declared and opened the sects and opinions of the most noble and most ancient Physicians, I I think it very meet to show the nature of the Elements, which be iiii. in numbered: the fire, air, water, and earth. But to avoid ambiguity, I will (by god's grace) first declare the signification of this word Elementum, which we may very well call in our tongue a beginning of any thing: and thereof it cometh that the Alphabete letters be called elements, because they are beginners of all manner of languages, & the principles also of every art be called Elements, because they are begynners' of the same. The Physicians also do call the veins pulses, and bones, with all other such parts as the Latin men call similares, sensible elements: because they are the first beginners of man's body, as much as may be perceived by sense. For the fire, air, water and earth, (of the which all things under the moon be made) can not be perceived by any sense: wherefore as they are the first begynners' of man's body, so they are not the first sensible begynners'. For if they could be perceived by sense, than every man as he passeth other in quycknesse of sense, so should he see, and feel most fine elements as the Eagle, because his sight is most perfit, should easelyest perceive the lest Element, but percase some will say unto me, that there is no man so mad to say, that the fire, air, earth, and water, can not be felt, and perceived by sense: But whosoever shall move this doubt, I will answer him, of this fassyon: that if he mean our fire, our water or our earth, I will say as he saith which is, that they may be felt and perceived by sense. For in deed they are no Elements, but things mixed and corruptible: having their composition of diverse things, where as the pure element is a body most simple, without all generation or corruption. Now be it, of fire made thick, cometh air: and of air made thick, cometh water: and of water made thick, cometh earth. And yet here is neither corruption, nor yet generation of the whole, for this is a mutation of the parts only. Then as I said before, Elementum in this signification is a body most pure and simple, and the least part of the same, wherein it is: which can not be divided into any other kind, and of it all things natural have their original beginning. This definition is taken both out of Galen and Aristotle: therefore I trust, no man will be so impudent to contrary or impugn it. And there be also as is aforesaid four Elements, of the which the fire is extreme hot, and moderately dry: the air extreme moist, and moderately hot: the water extreme cold, and moderately moist: the earth is extreme dry, and moderately cold. In heat the fire with the air, and in dryness with the earth, in moisture the air with the water, & in heat with the fire, in coldness the water with the earth, & in moisture with the air, the earth in dryness with the fire, & in coldness with the water, doth consent and agreed. And as the water to the fire is extreme contrary, so is the air to the earth. Of the mixture of these elements, all natural bodies have their composition, & yet it is nothing necessary that they be equally mingled in the body but according to that, that hath dominion, the body is named either choleryke, sanguyne, phlegmatycke, or melancholy: and these names be given of four natural humours, that is choler, blood, phlegm, and melancholy, which take their qualities of the elements, for choler is hot and dry according to the nature of the fire, and blood is hot & moist, according to the nature of the air, phlegm is cold and moist, according to the water, and melancholy in no point dyssenteth from the earth. The third Chapter. ¶ The differences of temperatures. How that I have declared unto you, how all natural bodies be made by the mixture of the elements, I think it most necessary, to show in as few words as I can, the differences of temperatures. Temperatures in numbered are ix of the which viii do exceed, & therefore in my fantasy, they may better be called distemperatures, than temperate crases: the ninth in deed is temperate, for it exceedeth in no quality. Of the distemperate four be simple, and four be composide. the simple are heat, cold, dryness & moisture, of the which coupled and joined together, the rest which be distemperate are made. The ninth is neither hot, cold, dry nor moist, and yet is made of them all: and therefore the greeks call it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which is as much to say in latyn, as Bene temperatum, and in Englyshe: well tempered. And this is that which Arithmetritions call Temperamentum ad pondus, which we may call in our language, a complexion measured by weight, because there are as many degrees of heat, as there is of cold, of dryenes as of moisture: the other which are distemperate crases, be measured not by weight, but by dignity, as in the heart well tempered, heat doth exceed, in the brain well tempered, moisture doth exceade, in the fat well tempered, cold: in the bones well tempered, dryenes. And this is called Temperamentum, secundum justitiam distributativam. Which is as much for to say, as a temperature measured according to justice, which giveth every man his own. But peradventure this declaration shall seem some what hard to such as be unlearned: and therefore I intend to declare the same again, both more largely and also more plainly. first you shall understand, that these four heat, cold, dryenes and moisture, which are called the first qualities, because all other come of them, have each of them iii divers significations. Whansoever you find heat, cold, dryness or moisture, absolutely and simply spoken, than understand that it is meant by those simple bodies, which be hot, cold, dry and moist, in the hygheste degree: and that is only the fire, water, earth and air, which be the four elements whereof we spoke before. And when you find the same qualities mixed in any natural body, by the which it is named either hot cold, dry or moist, than suppose that it is spoken either by comparison, as hot for hotter, cold for colder, dry for drier, or moist for moister, orels that it is hot, cold, dry or moist by nature, as when there is in one body, more heat than cold, more dryness than moisture, or otherwise. as Summer is called hot, because it hath more heat? than cold: Winter also is called cold, be cause that it hath more cold than heat: & hereof it cometh, that one body is choleryke, because in the mixture of the four humours, which is choler, blood, phlegm and melancholy, there is more of choler, than of any other, and therefore choler hath the dominion, causing the body to be named cholerycke after it: and in like manner doth each of the other, where he beareth rule & governance. But he that will know perfectly how to judge the differences of bodies in temperature by comparison, must constitute in every kind of things, that same temperate mean, which before we called Eucraton to the which he must refer the same body or complexion, of the which he dowteth, and than if it do exceed the mean, either in heat, cold, dryness or moisture, it shall take name thereof, and be called either hot, cold, dry or moist, because it exceadeth the mean which is named Eucraton, when it is either hot, cold, dry or moist. Somme do use to judge the diversity of complexions, by comparing one distemperate body, to an other of the same kind distemperate also, as in man's kind, Socrates compared with Aristotle, is hot, because he is hotter than he, but in respect of Aristippus, he is cold, because Aristippus is much hotter, & thus one man compared to divers, may be both hot, cold, dry and moist: And some by comparing distemperate bodies of divers kinds learn to know the constitution, as a dog compared with a man is hot, with a lion, is cold, and with a sheep, is dry: with a pysmyre or a fly is moist, and of this fashion contraries may be in one body, and none otherwise. How be it (as I think) the best way is to seek out the mean, to the which all that be of the same kind, aught to be referred, and afterward as he exceedeth in any quality to have his nomination according to the same But perchance you will say it is hard to find in every kind a complexioned body measured by weight, which is the mean, I grant that, for in deed there was never any such, nor shall be, yet as that sect of Philosophers which were called Stoykes, what time they defined a wise man, did describe such one, as was not possible to be found any where: and as Quintilian describeth his orator, so we, to bring our purpose about, must imagine such an one in our mind by cogitation, as never was made, neither is like to be, by consent of nature, as thus. In the hole kind of living things, that that is most temperate and perfect, is as a mean to the rest, which by the hole consent as well of the philosofers, as of the physicians, is man, by cause any of the other kinds compared with him, is distemperate, than if you will prove man also to be distemperate, you must seek amongst the hole kind, the most perfect and temperate: and he that is perfit and temperate, and worthy to be a mean to the rest, is neither over thick, nor sclendre, nor very full of here, nor yet smooth and without here, nor soft, nor yet hard, black nor white, hot nor cold, dry nor moist: and to be short, keeping a mean without all excess. If you can find such a one in the hole kind, then are you sure of the complexyoned body measured by weight, which we spoke of before. In case you can find none such, you must imagine a like in your brain: and you must not do this only in mankind, but also in other natural and lively creatures, as well in the kind of lions, dogs, elephauntes, and wolves: as also of birds, fishes, worms and trees, comparing every one in his own kind. But in case you will find what of all things is most temperate: then must you go again to the man before said which is neither hot nor cold, and the skin in the midst of the insyde of his hand, is of all things most temperate. For the temperatest part of every man's body, is the skin in the myddeste of the palm of the hand: then the temperatest part of the most temperate man must needs be the most temperate thing in the world, sing that of all living creatures man is most temperate. Now that I have showed how by comparison made, in every kind, the differences of the body may ease lie be known, there remaineth behind to declare how to find out the same without comparison. Where as I said before, that every quality, might be taken three diverse ways as heat in the highest degree, is only in the fire, and in a natural body mixed of the Elements, it is either referred to an other, by comparison: as hot for hotter, or else it is so of nature, which may be taken two manner of ways, as hot in act or in power. Things that be hot in act, may easily be judged by sense of feeling: for who hath so dull sense in feeling, that he can not perceive the fire to be hot: if he put his finger in it. But to know which is hot in power is a thing of more difficulty. For it can not at the first brunt be perceived by any sense, neither of feeling, smelling, hearing, seeing, nor tasting. For who can perceive by any of these, that castoreum, or euphorbium or nasturcium is hot, or that Mandragora, Salamandra or Papaver is cold. But in case you take any part of them inwardly, either as meat, drink, or medicine: than you shall easily discern which is hot and which is cold. But peradventure you will condemn this proof as noughts, because it is dangerous meddling with poisons: I grant that, & therefore it is much safer, to say them as a plaster, to some utter part of your skin, where as they can not hurt, and after that they have lyen there a while, they will show their power and quality, which shallbe perceived quycklye by sense in feeling. But to judge things moist, or dry, I can show you a mochesurer rule, what soever thing is soft, and moderately hot, that of nature is moist: whatsoever is hard and moderately hot, that of nature and power is dry: and this is always true, as well in lively bodies, as is other things. The four Chapter. ¶ The geveration of the liver, bert, and brain. FOr asmuch as there is nothing so necessary to attain to any perfit knowledge in Physic, as to be perfit both in cutting and in opening the body, and parts of the same. And sing it is shame for a man to be learned in so many arts, and have knowledge of so many things (as the most part of men now a days have) and be ignorant in his own body, the which he should most perfitly know: I think it no less than my bound duty, to employ my labour and diligence to the furtherance of the same, that such as be but begynners' as yet very raw in Physycke, whose bringing up hath not been amongst learned men of the universities, whereby they are destitute, both of dialect, natural philosophy, and other arts, with out the which Physycke can hardly be learned, may have some help by this my little rude book, both to attain some learning in Physycke, & also to know their body. Blood and the seed of the man be beginners of our generation, of the which blood is the substance and matter whereof our body is made, and the seed of man is next under God, the maker and fashyoner of the same, and these same be made of the same elements which I have spoken of already, which is the fire, air, earth, and water, and these two differ one from an other in temperature. For in the seed there is more of fire and eyer then of water and earth, and in the blood there is less of fire and air, than there is of water and earth: and yet in the same there is more heat then cold, and more moisture than dryness. After that these two be received, and vi days retained within the womb of the woman, the great heat which is there doth so bake the seed & blood being mirt together, that it compasseth them about with a skin, or a crust, not unlike the utter cote of an egg, which the Greeks call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, & in latin is called secundine, or secundina: what our mydwyves' call it I can not tell: howbeit, it may very well be called a skin wherein is wrapped that that is conceived, and this is made in the first vi days, with divers pulses and veins, as fine & small as any threads, which serveth afterward to nourysh the infant by the navyll. For in this same skin, which before is called Chorion, there are many fine holes, moche like the little holes in the small lamparie heeds, by the which the navyll after the seventh day, doth draw unto it both spirit and blood, to the nourishment of the infant. Then in the mean season the rest of the seed boiling all hot, doth make three little bladers, which is the place of the liver, heart, and brain. For a vain which is stretched right upward from the navel doth draw up the grossed blood, which for lack of heat easily congeleth in the seed. And there is made also a double forked vain, and to one of the forks of the same vain is fashyoned this foresaid congealed blood, which is the liver: and like as from the navyll, the vain bringing gross blood into the foresaid little bladder was cause of the generation of the liver, so likewise a pulse or an artery bringing fine blood and spirit, coming from the same place, somewhat near the back, into another like bladder, is cause of making of the heart, which is made of very sound flesh, thick and gross, meet for such a purpose, and of the most fine and subtile blood, that cometh from the heart, the lights be made and the whole breast also wherein they are closed. In to the third bladder, which is mentioned before, a great part of the seed being full of spirit, is driven, the which to keep himself moist, doth draw a great part of the seed to it, and maketh a little cell, which is the brain, to the which there is added afortres of hard bone. And thus the brain, is made of the seed only, that he might be furnysshed with most fine spirits, whom the brain conserveth and altereth, the which are the cause of sense, and voluntary moving, as shall be declared more plainly hereafter. next to the brain groweth the marye of the backebone, which the Arabians call Nucha, it is of the same nature, that the brain is, and differeth very much from the marye, of the other parts. I have showed to you now, thoghe very rudely, the original beginning of man's body▪ Of the seed is only made all the bones, gristels, veins, pulses, strings, sinews, tyinge, sells and skins, which be called Spermatyke parts, because they be made of the seed and not of the blood. They are the very same, which I said before that the Latin men called Parts similares, and the Physicians, sensible elements, all the rest be made of the blood, as the liver, the heart, and the lights, with all the flesh, and fat of the body. The infant whiles he is within his mother's woumbe, is nourished of that blood which is called Sanguis menstruus. drawing it at his navyl, and after he is delivered, it is turned all to milk, which is his meat long after, and therefore there is many conduytes from the woumbe, to the paps. After that the infant is fully proportioned, & figured, in the first months he pisseth by the conduit, that cometh through his navyl, in the later months that is shut up, and he pysseth with his yerde, he avoideth no excrements at his fundament, because he receiveth no norysshement by his mouth. There is a skin, much like a puddynge, which receiveth his urine and excrements, jest they should hurt either him, or else his mother. I should seem both to long and also to tedious, if I describe the hole body, but because the action of the instruments, can not be understand, except I should touch the most principal parts, therefore it was necessary to intermeddle with the descryption of the body, in the which I will not be so scrupulous, as to rehearse every little part or the situation or figure of every bone and vain, not nor the knytting of every muscle, (for why should I make me more cunning than I am) in deed it passeth my learning as yet, but I intend to show, and set forth the greatest, and most noble parts, the which he must needs know that will profit in physic. The .v. Chapter. ¶ The sections of the body. THere was no need in the old time, to write of the body, for than children were excersised in their young and tender age, daily in cutting and opening of the same, but now that this diligence is utterly extyncte, we have very great need of writing, wherefore I have taken this little pain upon me, which I shall think well bestowed, if it shall either help the studies of those that be rude and raw in physic, or satisfy them that be learned. And first I will declare (by god's grace) such parts as covereth the head without, & afterward those that be within, beginning with the hears though they be but excrements, & superfluities, next underneath the hear, there is a skin somewhat thick and fleshy, wherein the hear is rooted: underneath this skin, there is a little flesh, about the brow & temples. Than next underneath, there is a fine kell, which is made of sinews and tyenges, coming thorough the seams of the skull, which the Greeks call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, under the which immediately, is the skulle, in greke called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, & for the defence of the brain, it is made like an helmet, the latin men call it Caluariam, and it is not one hole continual bone but is divided by certain seems in to seven bones. Then within the head underneath the skull, is Dura matter, which Galen calleth Crassum 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 it is a thick and hard kel or skin made of many strong sinews and bonds, to the intent it might hold up and sustain the veins, which nouryssheth the brain: After this is pia matter. which is an exceeding fine skin, made of sinews, not only compassing the hole substance of the brain, but also penetrating into divers parts, that are within the brain, & noryssheth it as much as the skin which before we called Chorion, doth nourish the seed, & because it is made of sinews, it giveth sense to the brain. At the last we be come to the brain, the which when I consider that it is made of the seed, I can not choose, but marvel, how all our cogitations & imaginations should come from thence & how the brain being so gross and massy of substance, should hung as it doth without any stay or undersetting, in such hollow & wide places, we see that housen be underset with posts, or else they would overwhelm the flower under them, but the brain being underset with nothing, how fortuneth it, that so long as life remaineth in the body it choketh and overwhelmeth not the wide hollow chambers underneath▪ When I did deeply consider the cause of this, I thought the brain had a certain similitude of the sky. For as the sky being a great & heavy substance without any props, or undersettes, doth not fall, nor is strooken out of his place: so the brain by a certain divine nature that it hath doth consist without any stay or fortress that can be perceived by sense, and thereof it cometh that man is called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which we may call in our touge a little world, & surely the bright spirits which come from the brain to the eye, doth declare, that there is a certain cognation or kynderede between the sky, and man's brain, which though it be made of the seed (as I said before) yet it is some divine and celestial thing: yea and the nature of the seed is so moche the more to be marveled at: how moche it passeth our knowledge and capacity, to show & declare the causes whereby it worketh such wonders in the brain, which is full of holes, as eyes, replenished with spirit, may very well be the cause why the brain falls not down. Howbeit, both the substance of it, and the wondered motions also may better be marveled at, then describe. This I dare say, that it is made of the finest part of the seed, and of that, that is fullest of spirit, and is divided into two parties, by that same skin with before is called Dura matter, the one lieth before and the other behind. That which is before, (as it is of the finest and most pure substance) so it bringeth out most fine and subtile sinews, and is the place of reason and intelligence: the other (as it is course of substance) so there groweth of it great and strong sinews, not unlike them that grow of the marrow of the back bone, and it is thought to be the place of memory: now that after a rude fassyon we have describe the brain, there remaineth behind the description of his sells, and chambers, which in numbered be iii in the former part of that heed, there are ii deep hollow places, not unlike the figure of the moon when she is new changed, and of the bygnesse of an egg, reaching down almost to the ears. The same cavities (though they be ii of them, one on the right side & another on the left side) yet for the most part they be called the first chaumbre of the brain, which alway is full of spirit, having his sides covered, and clad, with the same rymme or skin, which before is called Pia matter, which is full of veins and pulses for the nutriment of the brain: under each of these chambers there is (if I may so call it) a long rope, which is made of veins & pulses, covered with a fine skin that groweth of Pia matter, these small long ropes hath joininges, whereby they clasp, & be read, moche like worms, wherefore they be called worms, and do extend in length as far as the ears, and the middle chaumbre of the brain, whom they replenysshe with spirit. In the same place at the end of the first cavities, under them is an other cavitie. For at the latter end of the foresaid worms or ropes there are two lumps, which of the very similitude of buttocks be called Nates, and be clad with the skin of the worms which when the said cavitie or chamber: is drawn together do touch one an other, and when it is open, they also be separate. This chamber or sell is as big as the yolk of an egg, and being covered round about with the brain, is called the middle chamber or cell, which is shut with a pessule or bar of the bygnesse of a little walnut, and therefore it is called in latyn Glanduia or, conarium, and it is just betwixt the middle chamber, and the entering into the third, his offyce is to sustain, and bear up, the veins and pulses, which bring spirit to the middle chamber. The third chamber is behind in the last part of the heed, which before we supposed to be the place and see't, of the memory, and in this chamber is a great part of the brain, which the Grecians call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in latin it is called Cerebellum: in our tungue we have no proper name for it, which I can do no less than count the negligence of our Physicians to be the cause of: for if they had written of their art in their mother tunge, as they do in other places, why should we lack english names, more than we lack either Latyn names or Greek names? and yet to say the truth, it is better for us English men to have English names, than either Latyn or Greek. Of this part of the brain groweth the marrow of the back bone, which is called ●●cha, under the middle chamber, th●●● is an hollow cavitie, which receyue●● the excrements and superfluyties of the brain, the which being turned into spettyll, cometh out after at the nose, the Greeks call this cavitie 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the Latyn men infusorium, or infundibulum, we have no proper name for it: how be it it may be called a dropping pan. Next underneath be the jaws, furnished with xxxii. teeth: the four foremost of each side be called dividers, because they tear the meat: the next of each side be called dogteeth, because they be like tusks: all the rest inlatyn be called Genuini, or Molares, which we call gums: and they have two roots at the least, where as the other have but one: with those teeth the mouth is compassed round about, and defended: wherein as a precious jewel in a strong tower or fortress, is ●●closed the tungue, which is ma●● of very soft and raw flesh, full of ●●les and full of pulses, veins and sinews: full of sinews, to the intent it may move dyverselye, and also feal and taste: full of pulses or arteries, because it hath great need of spirit, and natural heat, seeing it hath so many dynerse movings: and it is full of veins, that it may be well nourished. There is also added to it a certain moisture, jest it should wax dry, because it is moved daily: above the tunge, is a pipe, which the Grecians use to call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and the Latynistes call it Gulam, the unlearned or ignorant call it the wesaunt, and it is a long pipe, having two skins or coats, the which draw down the meat and drink into the maw or bag, and the utter cote helpeth the stomach to vomyte. There is also in the former part of the neck an other pipe, which (to the intent that nothing should go that way, but only air) is covered with the root of the tunge, and it is made of hard grassels, joined together like rings, and doth conduct only air and spirit to the lights, and heart, being nothing so long as the other, which draweth meat and drink, down to the stomach or maw, and it hath a great knobbe almost at the end, next the jaw, which the Greeks call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in latyn Nodus gutturis, which in English is the knot of the throat, and whensoever we swallow any thing, it goth up above the jaw. The wind pipe is the formoost part of the neck, to the intent it may take air and spirit the easilyer. And the wesaunt or meat pipe (for why should we be ashamed of these names, saying we have no better) is put far whythin the neck, because it should have the more heat, howbeit we will omit to speak of it until such time as the lights and heart, with all that is contained in the breast, which the Physicians call the middle belly, be declared so well as my simple wit and learning will give me leave. To the lowest part of the wind pipe, (for it is as well the instrument of breathing, as of speaking) be fastened the lights, which being made of light, and most subtile and fine flesh, not unlike the foam of choleryke blood congealed, hath the figure of an ox houfe, cloven in to ii parts, and doth compass the heart, round about with .v. globes iii on the right side, and ii on the lift. And look as the pulses doth conserre and keep temperate the natural heat, thoroweout the hole body, so the lights preserve the heart from choking by the receiving of external air, which lest it should hurt the heart with cold coming suddenly upon it, is tempered there before, so that I can never wonder enough at the high and divine providence of god, which foreseeing all these things, hath constitute such an order in man's body, as I dare say was never in any public weal. For what publycke weal, either is there, or hath been, sins the world began, in which the subjects have been found ever obedient without all grudging to their lord and prince, were he never so noble or valiant? yet in man's body though there be infinite subjects there can be found no disobedience to their lord and governor, which is the heart: for if any poison be gathered there within the body: or otherwise, which with his venom, would pierce the heart, I pray you is not every part ready to defend him? though it be to the utter destruction of them all for ever? and to say truth, he is worthy to have no less homage or service, seeing he is auctor of life to all the rest, helping his subjects & servants, at all such times as they be in danger. And to the intent that no one part, might be destitute more of help then another, by reason of the distance between him and his governor, Nature hath provided the heart to be set so egallye in the midst of the breast, as is possible to be devised, by all the mathematics in the world, which is compassed about with a cote, the which Galen calleth 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 it is made of sinews so thick, and so strong, that it is softer than a bone and yet it is sufficient to defend the heart, it is tied to the skin which covereth the rib, and to the mydryfe, and the heart strings, containing a little quantity of water that never drieth up, until such time as life and all natural heat is departed from the body: There is also a little fat, least the heart through his continual moving, should be dried up: within this foresaid cote, enclosed as a most precious ivell, the heart, having ii chambers, one on the right side, & an other on the left. To the chamber on the right side, the great master vain, which groweth on the liver, doth bring blood, that is distributed in to iii parts, the subtylest and most choleryke, to the nutriment of lights: The second part, is carried in to the chamber of the left side, where by the virtue of the heart, it is form in to vytal spirit, the third and last part is reserved to the nourysshement of the hole body, after that it hath received of the heart both vital heat and spirit. And like as from the chamber of the right side, the great master vain, bringeth blood through the hole body, so from the lest chamber the master pulse bringeth vital spirit, of the which the liver taketh his power, and facultye, whereby he nourysheth the body & brain, by his virtue, by which he giveth both feeling and moving to the same. I would not now that any man should think, that I do defend the error of Aristotle, which thought that the heart, as he is author of life, so to be the giver both of feeling & moving, to the hole body: for that the sinews grow of the brain, every man having his sight, may perceive easily, and that they give both feeling and moving to the body: you may know if you take a dog and tie both his pulses and veins and let him go, & he shall both feel & run, so long as the animal spirit lasteth, which is all ready in his sinews, but in case you tie his sinews, he shall not be able to stir one foot. This is a very manifest proof, that the heart giveth not sense and moving, to the body, yet as I said before, both the brain, and also the liver, take their power of the heart, for after that the heart hath engendered vital spirit, part is carried to the liver, and part to the brain. The liver of his, engendereth new spirits, called natural, the which he doth distribute by his veins, thoroghout the body so the nuryshement of the same. The brain also turneth those spirits which he received of the heart, in to other spirits, called animal & these being dispersed amongst the sinews, is cause both of moving and feeling. Sithence that I have according to my promise made before, declared by what means the brain giveth sense and moving to the body, I will as bryefelye as I can describe the residue of the parts, which I think most necessary to be known beginning there, where as I left with the heart, which beside his chambers, hath also two ears, the which be grassels made of sinews being full of wrynkles and foldynges, and they be also called the sells or butteries of the heart. I promised before to declare as near as I could, those parts that the breast which is called the middle belly, doth contain, and I have all ready so to my little power, describe both the heart, the lights & the instruments of the voice, and breathing with the parts & coverynges, of the same therefore now there remaineth the mydryfe, which in latin is called Mediastinus. and the skin, that compasseth the rib, which in Greek is called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & the heart strings, which in greke is called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 The mydryfe doth divide the breast 〈◊〉 in length, and maketh ii chambers one on the right side, and an other on the left side: And because it is a very strong skin, it doth fashion both veins, pulses and sinews to the breast, and it is tied before to the brestbone, and behind to the joints of the backebone. The second skin is that, that is called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which covereth the rib on the insyde, and the muscles also that be betwixt the rib. Next underneath this is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which the Latin men call Trausuersum septum, or pcordia: we may call it an overthwart bridge or the hertstrynges, it is made of sinews & flesh, covered with ii fine rhymes, made to move the lights, & also to draw in and let out air, and to separate the lowest belly from the middle belly, underneath the hertstrynges, somewhat toward the ryghtside the maw or paunch, which before we called the lowest belly, being round, with a great bottom, and something narrow toward the left side is fastened to the xiii joint of the back bone, and in the same place the wesaunt that before we called the stomach, is tied to the maw, which hath ii mouths, one at the lowest part of the wesaunt, and the other in the right side of the maw or paunch The mouth by the which the meat is received into the maw, doth shut the neither part of the wesaunt, and is called, the hither mouth of the maw: the mouth that letteth out the meat, shytteth the neither part of the maw, and is called in Greek 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, in Latin javitor, in our tongue a portar or a keeper of the gate, and both these mouths (to the intent that the meat and drink may not fall out at any time unconcoct) be set in the side of the belly or pauche, which be fast shut as soon as ever the belly hath received meat, and thereby natural heat is very moche increased within the maw, being made of sinews and of flesh, and it hath also two coats, of the which the innermoost, hath more sinews then flesh, and it is very thick and rough, full of wryncles, by the which the meat is drawn down and retained. The utter cote is more flesh, and serveth only to expel that, that the belly refuseth and hath done withal. The temperature of the belly is cold and dry, according to the nature of sinews, whereof it hath abundance that it may be delighted with such things as be convenient & meet for it, and may abhor such as be noyful & hurtful unto it. I have spoken somewhat briefly of the belly and maw, but before we describe the liver, I will first rehearse ii coats or coverings of the belly, which (nature by her divine and high sapience) hath provided for the defence of the belly and entrails The first covering is called in latyn Omentum, the Grecians do call it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 our bouchers call it the kell, and it is woven like a net, of veins, pulses and senowes, being covered with a great deal of fat, to the intent that it may hold in, the natural heat, which is in the maw and guts, for it covereth all the belly from the top to the too, the next cote or covering the Greeks call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which covereth not only the belly, but also the liver, mylte, and reins, & it groweth of the bladder, being thycker in some place then in some, it tieth the lowest parts of the belly to the back, and doth sustain the muscles of the belly, which the Latyn men call Musculos abdominis, upon the which muscules is a great deal of fat, & then the skin that covereth the whole body. Next unto the maw, immediately downward be the guts and entrails, the which although they be all one whole and continual body yet they may be discerned both by their figure, situation, and action. The first, which is fastened to the neither mouth of the maw, is called Duodenum, because it is xii inches long, and it is in the right side, in the region of the liver. next unto Duodenum is I eiunium, which is so called because it is always empty. For to this gut there cometh much choler from the liver, and because it of all the rest is next the liver: therefore the liver draweth from it very quycklye by his small veins, such ivise as came from the stomach before. And from this gut there cometh choler into the rest, to expel the excrements. The next is called of Galene 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which hath many circuits and boughts, because it should retain the juice longer, and it doth far pass all the rest: joined unto this, is the gut called Cecum, which doth receive the excrements and it is called Saccus, because it is the wydest of all. Then followeth 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ being two cubytes of length, having diverse boughts▪ and compassynges, jest the excrement should fall straight out: and in this gut the excrement taketh his colour. The last gut which we call the fundament beginneth under the left rain and is stretched down even to the very hole in the tail: it is tied to the great back bone, being large & wide to the intent that the excrement may go down more at ease. Sigh I have describe the guts & entrails, I will add something as concerning the matter that they be made of. They be made of flesh & sinews, having broad strings, by the which they expel the excrements. There is a certain skin mixed amongst the guts, which is no gut but a fortress or a stay for the small veins which come from the liver and it is called in Greek 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, & thereupon all the small veins be called Mesaraice, and it is a fine and subtile skin, made of very small veins gathered on an heap together, amongst the which there is a lump of flesh, like unto a kernel, which we call the swyt bread. Underneth the bastard ribs in the rightside of the maw or stomach is the liver, whose substance is read flesh, not much unlike congealed blood being replenished with veins, which be the branches of the great master veins, that is of the vain which is called Porta, & also of that, that is called Caua vena, we have no names in our tungue which be proper or peculiar to them only, but must be fain to call them master veins, and in deed so that we understand the thing, it shall make but little matter for names: howbeit Galen saith, that the one is called Porta, because that the juice cometh through it, from the stomach to the liver: and the other I think is called Caua, because it is a great hollow vain, well what so ever it be called, it groweth of the liver, and carrieth blood from the liver to the heart, and though it to be big: yet there groweth many fine & small veins, both of it, and of the other, which be dispersed throughout the whole body of the liver, to the intent that the juice may more easily be turned into blood: for the very duty and office of the liver, is to engendre blood, for the nouryshment of the body, and therefore it is hot and moist according to the nature of blood. Moreover it is the very flesh of the liver, which doth change the juice in to blood, making it red like unto itself. Although that sum think the heart to be the well, and original spring of blood, notwithstanding I had rather say as Galene sayeth, that it is the flesh of the liver, which engendereth blood, although the liver receive both vital heat, and spirit of the heart, and therefore from the great master pulse, which in greke is called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, there cometh many little pulses to the liver, bringing with them vital spirit, but so soon as the juice is concoct, it is made blood, and purified in the mids of the liver receiveth choler, of the small veins, in the mids of the liver, while the blood is purifying and cleansing, which conduit or way, if it fortune to be stopped, by any manner of chance, so that the choler can not be separate from the blood, than there followeth hot fyevers, or else the yellow jandies. On the left side, the spleen or mylte enbraseth the stomach, which being black of colour, is made of subtile & rare flesh, and is the same, which before is called the receptacle of melancholy, it is tied unto the back about the mids of the bastard ryb and doth draw unto it melancholy or black choler, by a vain which cometh from the liver, receiving heat of the heart, to digest the foresaid black choler, by certain pulses annexed unto it. From the mylte also there is a conduyt to the uppermoste mouth of the stomach, bringing melancholy thither, partly to draw together the mouth of the stomach, and partly to provoke appetite. There be ii kydneys that be called in latin. Renes, of the which one is set underneath the liver toward the back and the other is set on the other side, right against the mylte, they be made of soude and thick flesh, lest they should be dissolved of the water, that they draw daily from the blood, by two veins, which be called Mulgentes, and in our tongue, sucking veins, there is drawn also, beside the water, sum blood to the noryshment of the reins or kidneys, in the mids of the which there is as it were a little pan, into the which the foresaid kydnies do sweated out the water, which they received of the sucking veins, and in this pan the urine taketh his colour, from whence it is brought down, after the concoction had therbefore, by certain conduits that be called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in greke and in latin, Vrinarii, we may call them the conduytes of the urine, from the reins to the bladder. The bladder in man joineth to the taylegutte or fundiment, from whence the neck of it reacheth to the yard, but in women it is set upon the mouth of their woumbe, & therefore they have both shorter and wider necked bladdars than men have, and also be less disesed with stone in that place, It is made of skynnye sinews, and there cometh to it, both veins and pulses. the neck only is of flesh, and hath certain turnynges and boughts, that it may hold the water more easily, there is added a muscle to the mouth of the bladder, to the intent that we may either letout or retain the water, at our own will & pleasure. But how small and fine the holes be by the which the water is received into the bladder may easily be perceived, because that when it is taken out of any deed body, that there appeareth none at all, more than that, which is in the neck, to let out the urine or water. Man surely hath great profit of the bladar, for if that same superfluous water, should not be carried away, but be permitted to run to gyther in the veins, with the blood after that the body were once full, most part of the membres should crack, and break and man should be suffocated or choked. Therefore the bladder is made for this purpose, to receive the superfluous watery substance of the blood and retain it so long, until the due time of letting of it out, be come. Now I have describe all the parts of the lowest belly, so well as I could, saving the privy parts both of man and woman, which for divers causes I will omit at this time, first because I will give no occasion to youth of wantonness, and then that I will offend no honest ears, in descrybing them plainly and seeing my promise was to touch but certain parts, I think I may as well omyt them, as a great many that I have spoken nothing of. The vi Chapter. ¶ Of veins, pulses, and sinews. Veins be condytes with thin coats, which carrieth the thyckest blood, throughout the body, wherewith it is nourished, & they grow all of the liver, for the master vain (which passeth all the other in largeness and wydenesse) cometh from thence. Aristotel thought the heart to be the author and beginner of the veins, but Hypocrates thought otherwise and Galen also (whom we follow) hath evidently confuted Aristotels opinion. Pulses, or arteries, be conduytes that grow of the heart, and do carry vital spirit, and some part also of the finest blood, therefore it was necessary that they should be both thycker and stronger, then the veins, jest the spirit being so fine of substance, might break out, wherefore nature hath enclosed it in ii coats of the which the inner is .v. times as thyck as the utter, and yet is it as thick as any cote of the veins, that encloseth the gross and thickest blood: Veins, & pulses be so nigh cousins, that there is no vain in any part of the body, without his pulse: nor no pulse without his vain, to the intent that the veins may minister nourishment to the spirits. And again the spirits may refresh the blood with lively heat: and as you see in a lamp, the flame to be nourished with oil or wax, so the spirit plucketh to him blood out of the veins, with the which he is fed with. And here (as me think) nature hath showed us a marvelous notable example of doing one for an other, in this civil life. sinews grow of the brain, & also of the marye of the back bone. From whence they bring sense and voluntary moving to all parts of the body. There hath been moche to do amongst the old Physicians, whether the sinews have any holownesse or concavity in them, to receive the animal spirit, wherewith they give moving & feeling to the body, or else whether they take their power of the spirit, as the lute or harp string doth of the finger: howbeit, it is now concluded, that theridamas is none hollow, but only ii which bring spirit to the eyes, & be called Optici, and that the rest do take their power of the spirits There grow of the brain vii pair of sinews, of the which, some be distributed to the senses, & some to other parts: as to the stomach or maw, and those that grow of the brain be moche fyner & softer than those that grow of the back, which be not only the instrument of sense but also of voluntary moving, & there be of them xxx pair, which be dispersed every where through all the body. The vii Chapter. ¶ Of humours. ALthough that the spring & well of humours may then best be perceived, when the manner and way how to nourish the body is declared, yet because we be still occupied, in descrybing the parts of the body, I am not willing to omit the differences of humours, which be viii in numbered four natural and four unnatural. The natural is blood, fleume, yellow colour, and black, & the unnatural is the same also, turned by putrefaction, or else some otherwise, from their own native qualities. As concerning the generation of the natural humours, I have some deal mentioned before, wherefore I will omyt at this time to speak or reason any further in that matter, saving the I put you in remembrance, that the same food which is received by the wesaunt into the stomach, for the preserving of the body, is the matter and substance, whereby, by the virtue of the liver, they be made and engendered. The viii Chapter. ¶ Of blood. BLood is hot and moist, and the greatest part of that that nourysheth the body. For notwithstanding, that other humours be carried together with the blood to nourish the body, as blood delayed with fleume, both greatly nourysh such parts that be cold, and moist, as the brain: and coleryke blood the lights, and melancholycke blood the bones, and splen: yet the especial part of the noryshment, is that that is properly called blood. For the nouryshment aught to be sweet, or else delayed with sweet juice, and such is the blood. The ix Chapter. ¶ Of fleume. FLeume is a watrysh humour cold and moist, which is begun to be altered into blood, and is not yet thoroughly concoct, therefore it is white, thin, and unsavoury: not fat, nor coloured like blood, it serveth to mitigate the outragyous heat of the blood, and nourysheth the blood, making it thin and being mingled with the blood, comforteth such parts as be flegmatik. The ten Chapter. ¶ Of choler. CHoler is the foam or flower of the blood, which is made of the hottest and driest parts of the blood or juice, after that it is boiled, wherefore it is also hot and dry, and of a bitter taste, & therefore it is called of Galen 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which in latyn is Amarus and in English bitter. Natural choler is as well read as yellow, & when it is mixed with the blood, it openeth the veins, & doth norysh choleric parts, as the lights: nor it is not carried all with the blood, but the more part of it is reserved in the bladder, under the middle globe of the liver, to cleanse the lowest belly, or entrails: you may, (and you will) call them guts. The xi chapter. ¶ Of melancholy or black choler. Black choler or melancholy is a thick terrestrial humour that in the blood falls down to the bottom, very like unto old read wine, that is thick and black, & it is cold and dry: part of it is carried with the blood, both to make it thycker & also to help, and increase the power retentive, in the veins and other places where it cometh, and also to nourysh the melancholyke parts, as the bones and splen. The xii Chapter. ¶ Of the unnatural humours. Naughty humours be called unnatural: & they be made naught, or corrupted each of them two manner of ways, either because the substance of them without the admixtion of any other, doth degenerate: or else, that they be mingled, with such as be already putrefied and corrupted: blood is made naught, and goeth from his kind when he putrefieth in the veins, because the pores be shirt, or else when he is mingled with some other evil humour, as in the dropsy, where he is mixed with water. The xiii Chapter. ¶ Of naughty phlegm or unnatural. Unnatural phlegm is a raw wateryshe humour, cold and moist, redounding in that body, where as is a weak concoction, and it is sometime much thinner than spyttle, that falls from the mouth or nose. There is an other kind of naughty and unnatural phlegm, which is salt in taste, that cometh of the mixture of choler with phlegm, which is plentiful in such bodies, as feed for the most part of salt meats. The xiiii. Chapter. ¶ Of unnatural yellow choler. yellow choler, degenerateth from his nature, when it is bourned black, and is made thick and biting, or when sumother humour is mixed with it as watery phlegm, and this is called citrine choler, Galene calleth it pale choler, because it is of the colour of lead. But if it be thick phlegm wherewith it is mingled, than it is called of the latynes, Uitilina bilis because it is like in colour, to the yolk of an egg, & of this kind of choler, for the most part are engendered all fyevers tertian. The xv, chapter. ¶ Melancholy, or black choler unnatural. melancholy or black choler, is made unnaturalle, when other humours, or else itself, is burned as dry as a●●hes. For Hypocrates says that both blood and read choler will be turned soon into Melancholy, when for lack of air, they be smothered in the veins, & the stopping also of the pores, doth make a body which all ready is sanguine or cholerycke of nature, melancholy. And hereof cometh so many kinds of madness. For if Melancholy, be delayed with a little blood, it maketh a man merry mad, if it be mixed with a great deal of read choler, than it maketh him stark wood, as Hercules & Ajax was. But if it be mixed with phlegm it maketh him slothful without all mean or measure. If melancholy itself, without the admixtion of other humours be burned, than it maketh him sad and solitary, as Bellerophon, which as Homer sayeth, being full of sorrow and care, forsook all company, and wandered in desolate feyldes solitary all alone. How be it the same humours hath not like effect in every body, for in sum they are not so outeragious, as in sum: Homer himself died for sorrow, that he could not dissolve a certain hard question which was propounded unto him: and the old philosofer Haracletus, being born an Ephesian, did always lament with weeping, the manifold miseries of man's life, which as Theophrastus saith, was of nature melancholy, because he lived solitary alone, and written confused & obscure things, well at the last thorough his filthy and unclean living, he caught the dropsy, wherefore trusting to dry up the water that was betwixt his skin and flesh, commanded his body to be anointed with dung of oxen, and laid abroad in the hot sun, from whence he was brought dead. Yet Democritus madness was sommewhat more pleasant, which laughed always at men's foolishness, whereby he prolonged his life an hole hundred years. Empedocles was so outeragious mad, that he leapt alive in to the burning fire of the hill Ethna, but Sophocles madness was much sweeter, the which did ease the incommodities of old age, with making of verses. Marius when he was mad, fantasied nothing but fighting. But Lucullus being mad, was merry, full of game and sport. The xvi Chapter. ¶ Of Spirits Spirit is a subtile vapour of the blood, which by the virtue of the heart, giveth power to the body, to do all manner of works and actions, and although there is but one well or spring of all spirits, yet they be diserned by their places. Vital spirit is a flambe in the heart, made of blood, carrying vital heat to the other parts: the pulses be made to carry this spirit, whose dignity and worthiness may be esteemed hereof, that every part of the body hath need of vital & lively heat, to the conservation of their substance And this vital or lively blood, is preserved & kept, by that same little sparkle of vital spirit, which in old time wise men did so moche marvel at, that sum thought it to be man's soul, and sum the instrument of man's soul. And Aristotle saith that death is nothing but the quenching and putting forth of lively heat, and thereof it cometh that so many precepts be given of the physicians for the conservation and instauration of spirits, the which doubtless be corrupted and extinct, either with evil diet, orels with disease, & sickness, or with the weakness of the heart, in moving affections, or finally with immoderate labour. The xvii Chapter. ¶ Of animal spirits. Spirit animal, is a spirit that by virtue of the brain, is made brighter and convenient to the works of the senses, & also to move and stir the sinews. For I hold well with them, that affirm constantly, the heart to be the first author and beginner of spirit, and afterward, to take a new nature of the brain. And in deed there appeareth a certain affinity between the vital & animal spirit: For look with what spirits the heart is best tempered, the same in the brain, bring forth most noble and excellent affects, how be it for all that there is differences between them, because they have divers offices and effects. For the vital spirit ministereth heat to the body, the animal spirit stirreth up the senses, & moveth the sinews. S●me add unto these another kind of spirit, called natural, which nourysheth the blood in the liver: But Galene doubteth of it, saying, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, id est Si spiritus naturalis est aliquid, which is as much to say, as if the natural spirit be any thing. For although it can not be choose, but that there must be spirit in the liver, yet it is brought thither by the pulses, which is a token that it cometh from the heart, but I will determine or constitute nothing of this matter: leaving every man to his own judgement. The ii book. ¶ The first chapter. ¶ Of natural powers or actions. Whosoever will perfitly know, how many natural powers is in every body, he must diligently search out the natural works of the same body, for every work cometh of some action, and also every action of some cause, for whiles the infant is within his mother's womb, as yet imperfect) all his parts is but one natural work, proceeding of a natural action called generation but after that it is brought forth, an other natural work is to bring the same to their full groweth, which is done by the faculty called auction, & that they may long continued and endure, nutrition only doth make and bring to pass. Howbeit, generation is not one simple natural action, as the other be, but rather compound, of alteration and formation. For how could either been, synowe or vain be made without any alteration of their substance: or how could they be well figured or proportioned, except they were first out of all fassyon, and order. Auction is an amplification or encreasement, in length, breadth, and depenesse, of all parts of the body, and the child, whiles he is in his mother's womb, is destitute neither of this, nor of nutrition: yet generation hath than the chief rule and dominion, & the other be as handmaids unto it: but after it is delivered (until such time as it come to the full growth) auction hath governance, & alteration & nutrition, be but inferior powers. Then as I said before, it appertaineth only to the power or virtue called auction, to increase in length, breadth & deepness, all such parts as by help of generation hath already their due figure & fashion. But how every part is made bigger, it can not better be known, then by an example: children be wont to take the bladders of oxen & swine and blow them full of spirit, rubbing them very moche before the fire, that they may take heat without any burning or harm otherwise: and when they have stretched or drawn them out abundantly, they blow them full of spirit again, stretching them out more than they did before: and after they rub them, and chafe them still as is aforesaid until such time as they think them large enough, but in this chyldysshe work, look how moche the insyde of the foresaid bladders is made wider so much the bladder is th'inner, and if that were not, I might well say that children could make (as well as nature) little bladders, great. Howbeit, the wisest man in the world can not do that: so much the less children: For that is only proper unto nature. Wherefore it is very evident that nothing can be increased as it aught to be, without nouryshment: and they only be made longer, brother and deeper at one time, which grow naturally: or else if they be stretched along, they decay in breadth nor there is any thing in the world without breaking, may be stretched forth every way at one time. For that pertaineth to nature alone: and therefore auction is such a thing as can not possibly be without nouryshment: whereof now by god's grace, we intend to speak. The, two. Chapter. ¶ Of nutrition. NUtrition is the making like of that which nourysheth, to that, that is nourished: and in nutrition, there is alteration, but not like as was in generation. For in generation that is made flesh, which before was none: but in nutrition, the meat or nouryshment is made like to that that is nourished: therefore the one may be called (& not without a cause) generation, and the other assimulation: but because we have spoken sufficiently of these iii natural faculties and because no living creature needeth any other having how he may be increased, and also having, how he may long continued, it shall not need to rehearse any more natural powers. But again, if a man cast in his mind saying to himself, he hath mentioned as yet, no action of the stomach, entrails, liver, nor of any other part of the body, he shall think this, but the beginning and Proheme, of more profitable and better learning. Generation, auction, and nutrition, be the first fountains or springs all the natural works: and yet they are so perfit of themselves, that without external help of other, or (at the least amongst themselves) mutual service, they can almost do nothing. And as concerning what generation and auction de need we have spoken before: but what is required unto nutrition, we intend now to declare: for I shallbe thought about to show (as well the very instruments prepared for concoction of the nouryshment) as also the powers and faculty in them, to be made for the same purpose. For sing that assimulation is the only action of nutrition, and seeing that nothing can be made like, which in quality differeth, or be contrary. Therefore every living creature can not be nourished with every meat, neither can be nourished incontinent, with such as afterward at more leisure, peradventure he may: and by reason of this necessity (not only man) but brute beasts also, endued with life, have need of mean instruments, to the altering of the nouryshment. for that yellow may be made read, or read yellow, one simple alteration or change, is sufficient: but the white may be made black, or black white: all the alterations or chaungynges which be betwixt black & white: be required before, so that that is softest can not be made at the first hardest: neither that that is hardest, foftest. Then if this be true, how shall a bone be made of blood, except the blood first be made thick, and afterward white, or how shall blood be made of bread, except the bread change his colour before, from white to read. For it is no great matter, to make flesh of blood: for so soon as it is once made so thick, that it can not run, it is by and by flesh, but that the same may be made a 'bove, it must both have long time, and moche alteration, and this is one cause why there be many instruments provided of nature, for the altering of the meat: another cause is the nature of the excrements. For as we can not be nourished with grass, although bests are nourished with it, so we may be nourished with roots, but nothing so well as with flesh. For our nature may change, or altar it easily in to good blood, but in a root, that that is convenient to nourish the body, and may be changed though very hardly & not with out great concoction, is but a very little, for the most part of it, is full of excrements, and doth pass the instruments of concoction, wherefore there is but a small portion of it drawn up in to the veins, of the which all is not profitable, for the body, wherefore nature did lack another separation of such excrements as be in the that nature hath ordained only for nutrition, which as I said before, is the assimilation or making like of that that norysheth, to that which is nourished, the which to be done as there must needs go before, agglutination or adhesion, so before agglutination, there must of necessity, be apposition, or putting to of the nouryshment, to that that is nourished. For after that the juice is fallen out of the veins, first it is dispersed abroad, and by and by, it is joined or put unto that part, which shall be nourished, and afterward fastened, or glued to the same, & last of all made like. And than it may very well be called nouryshment, and not before, But that there is difference between assimulation and agglutination, it is very evident in that kind of scurf, which of the Latyns is called viti, ligo, we call it the morphew. And also that kind of dropsy which in greke is named 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 declare a certain difference between admixtion and agglutination. For this kind of dropsy, cometh not for lack of humidity, as consumptions do, seeing that their flesh which is troubled with this dropsy, is as weet, as if it had be swylled in water, which causeth that the noryshment can not cleave, because it can neither be made dry enough nor thick like glue, which cometh only, of natural heat. In the morphew, which in greke is called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and in latin Vitiligo, there is agglutination, but there lacketh assimulation, wherefore it is very evident, that as we said before in nutrition, there must first be adiunction, and then agglutination, & finally assimilation: and properly that is named nutrimcutum and in our tongue, nouryshment which hath nourished all ready, wherefore that same that is in the morphew, or that that is in the dropesie, can not well be called norysshment, because they have not nourished as yet, and of this fashion that that is in the veins, and also that which is in the stomach, yea and all good meats may be called nutrimenta, or in english norysshementes, because they will nourish at the length, if they be well digested, and hereof it is that Hippocrates sayeth in his book, that he writeth of diet. Nutrimentum quod nutrit Nutrimentum quod est, veluti nutrimentum, nutrimentum, quod est nutriturum. which is as much to say as nourysshement that doth nourish altedye, and norysshment that is like rysshement, and norysshement, that hereafter will nourish. For that that already is made like, Hippocrates doth call nutriment, but that which is but put unto, or that which is fastened only, and not made like, he nameth it to be like nutriment, and all that which is in the veins or maw, he calleth nutriment in time to come, because if it be well digested, it will nourish hereafter. Wherefore now I think it very evidently proved, that noryshment is the making like of that that nouryssheth, to that which is nourished. The third chapter. ¶ Of such faculties or virtues, as nature hath furnished every part with, serving to nutrition. THere be four powers of faculties, you may if you will call them virtues, which is in every part, that is either nourished itself, or serveth for the nourysshment of other, of the which the first is named attracti●e the second retentive, the third concoctyve, and the fourth and last ex pulsyve. If nature had not endued ever sins the beginning, all the nutrityve parts of every living creature, with these four virtues: it had not be possible either for men or beasts, to have continued alive ten days. For if neither God, nor nature took care of us, and if we were also destitute of all art and providens, being ruled with the sudden moments of our substance only, having no facultye or virtue, that could draw such things unto it as should be meet for it, nor any that could put away or expel things noyfull, or such as were hurtful unto it, or that could altre and fassyon, or glue, such as should nourysh it, I can not think, but we should be thought foolish, if we should dispute of any natural action, and much foolysher if we speak of any animal action, yea or of our hole life, either. For it shall not be possible for any creature that hath so many divers parts, set so far one from an other, to live or continued a very short time: if he lack the powers aforesaid. For first, if the attractive virtue were not, there could be no admixtion: if there could be no admixtion, there could ensue no agglutination, and without agglutination, there could never be any assimulation, without the which nutrition can not be had, and whether anything could live not nourished, that I leave to your judgement. The four Chapter. ¶ Of the power or virtue attractive. THe power attractive is a virtue which being in every part, serving for nutrition, doth draw unto it things of like qualities, & such as be meet and convenient for it, as the adamant stone draweth iron, the jest stone chaff, or straw. How be it, peradventure some defending the Epicure and his train, will say and constauntlye affirm, that there is no such power in stones, attributing the drawing up of the iron, or chaff unto other causes, as the Epicure did to his little mottes. The which opinion, because it is very foolysshe, and hath been confuted of divers noble Philosophers, but especially of Galene the most excellent Physician and Philosopher, (I except always Hipocrates) that ever was, I will not once touch or meddle with all: partly, because I can say nothing in it, which is not said before of them, but chiefly that I will not be so arrogant or proud to meddle with it after Aristotle and Galene (as who should say) I trusting overmuch in myself, could find something to say against the Epicure, more than they could. Therefore whoso delighteth to know parsytely the Epicures opinion, let him go to Galenes first book of natural faculties, and there he shall be satisfied. Yet this I dare say, that the Epicure with all his adherentes, is shamefully deceived. For, not only stones have power to draw things of like qualities, but also medicines, insomoche that some will draw out thorns, which have lyen iii or four days within the flesh and some (which is moche to be marveled at) will draw the poison of a snake only, and other some the poison of a toad, and in such men as have short necks, and wide throats we see oftentimes the meat drawn from their jaws, before it be half chawed: what is it that draweth the meat so greadelye? if there be no power attractive? neither in the maw nor in the wesaunt: and how could the watery substance be separated from the blood, if there were no attractive power in the reins or kidneys, or if there were no attractive power in the bladder, or the gall, why should it not be filled rather with water then with choler? seeing that water, is more fine and subtile then choler is. Wherefore I dare conclude with Galen, that no part of any living creature, being nourished, doth lack this power or virtue named attractive. The .v. Chapter. ¶ Of the power or virtue retentive. THe power retentive is a virtue which retaineth that, that the faculty attractive hath drawn. For if that juice that is already drawn, should not rest there, whither it is drawn: but should be carried to some other part, still changing his place, it were not possible that there might ensue either agglutination or assimulation, which is the very end wherefore nature hath endued every body with this power or virtue, that of the very action or offyce, is called in Latin Retentiva virtus, and in our tongue retention, or else the virtue retentive which in some parts of the body is so evident, that it needeth no demonstration, for it may be perceived by senee: and in other some it may better be known by reason and cogitation then by sense, as in a woman, how is the infant retained ix months, in her womb, if there be no virtue retentive there, and that the meat, is retained in the stomach or maw, until such time as it is altered & concocted, every man may know that will take a dog, or any other brute beast, & feed him, & than after he hath rest an hour, rip his maw, for look what you fed him with, you shall find it there unconcoct, which is an evident proof that there is some virtue there that retaineth it. But peaduenture some will say that it is retained because the neither mouth of the stomach is very narrow. Then how fortuneth it that the stomach doth not only retain meat, but drink also, which for his slyppernesse and subtillitie, would pass throughout a very little hole, & not drink only, but also all manner of decoctions & sorbitions, as myske wine, meath, with such other. And in such man's stomachs as be weak and feeble, all decoctions and liquyde things (for the most part) do swim long above in the higher mouth of the stomach, so moche the less they pass through straight way, after they be received and taken. And that this is true, everyman may know by the belches & crying in their bellies after drink or any like thing: the same is also manifestly proved by their vomyting ii hours, yea sometime hole vi. after they have eaten, or drunken. The vi Chapter. ¶ Of concoction, or the virtue concoctive. COncoction is a mutation or an alteration of the meat, into his substance that is nourished. And this kind of concocting, dyffereth as much from the alteration of the meat into the juice, as nutrition from the changing of the juice into blood. For there be many kinds of concoctions, and the first is in the maw or stomach, where as the meat is altered, and turned into juice, the next is in the liver, where as it is made of juice, blood. The third is in the veins, where as the blood is prepared, for the nourysshment of the whole body. The fourth and last, is in the parts, where as it is made flesh, or at least like unto that, that is nourished. And man's body may very well be compared to a princes house, where as is kept daily a great many of tables, at divers times of the day, so in man's body, all be not fed at one's, but sum wait till the other have done, as the stomach liver and heart, be first fed, and than the veins, after the which, every part, as he is best able, so he is served before the other, for as it is a common saying, he that worst may shall hold the candle, so in man's body the weakest part goeth ever to the worst, yet it chanceth sum time that the weaker plucketh from the stronger as the stomach from the liver, when the liver is full of meat and the stomach is empty and hath none. For it is no matter for a boy, to take apples or nuts from a man which hath more than he can hold in his hands: But if they be both loaded a like, than I think it unpossible for the weaker to take any thing from the stronger, by violence. And look as the weakest hath lest part of that that is good, so he hath enough of excrements, and of that that is naught, and thereof it cometh that the utter skin of our body doth receive all the excrements which afterward breaketh forth in biles or scabs, for if the virtue expulsive were as strong in it, as in other parts, why should it be more jaded with excrements, than the rest be? how be it nature hath made it a receptacle for the excrements of all the hole body, therefore it hath neither animal nor vital action, but only serveth to the use before said. The seven. chapter. ¶ Of the virtue expulsyve. Even as the attractive virtue draweth unto it things convenient, even so the power expulsyve, expulseth from it things noyfull or hurtful, and this may be evidently perceived in the example aforesaid of the woman going with child, for so long as every thing about the child frameth well, so long the power expulsive rests, as there were none such. But in case any thing be amiss, so that nature dispayreth to bring it to good pass or effect, than forth with all it is expelled, which the virtue expulsive only doth, and none other. If this be not sufficient, to prove that there is a facultye or power in every part, which doth expel from it things hurtful, I would you told me what it is, that in the maw parteth the excrement from the good juice, or in the liver, the water from the blood. Wherefore I may iustelye think, that nature passeth all the artifycers in the world. For Praxitiles or Phideas, which in their time were most excellent, did but trim their images only without, leaving the innersyde very raw & rude, without all work manshyppe, because they could not come to every part of it. But nature which doth extend to every part of the body, trimmeth the innerside more gorgeous than the outsyde making every part of bone, bone: and every part of flesh, flesh: keeping in every part, due and just proportion, and furnyshing them with most noble and excellent virtues, faculties and powers. Moreover neither Phideas nor Praxitiles, not nor yet Apelles could make of wax, ivory or gold, nor of gold wax. For every one of these, tarrying ever sins his first generation, in his own figure, and shape, saving for the workmanship that he hath on the utterside is made an image, where as nature is always full of variety, or else all the parts of man's body, should be only blood. The viii Chapter. ¶ Of the provoking of appetite. APpetite is provoked in the higher mouth of the maw, when the parts being very mouche wasted, doth lack nouryshement, and endeavoureth to draw of the veins, the veins of the liver and the liver of the stomach or maw, the maw of his over mouth, which is drawn together, and vehemently desireth meat. This drawing to gyther cometh of the melancholy. which is brought thither by a vain coming from the milte, and of this fashion hunger or appetite is stirred up and provoked, if it be long unslaked, it may turn to farther in convenience. For in such case alway the liver filleth the stomach, with excrements, and thereof it cometh that many men's stomachs, be good about viii of the clock in the morand at ten or xi though they be still fasting, have lust to eat nothing. some think that hunger cometh not as I have describe, but that there is a peculyer power in the nutrityve parts, as in the stomach and liver which do provoke it, as in fishes that be called pikes, when they follow their pray, somewhat greedily, they be so moved by very fervent desire, to overtake it, that their stomach riseth up to their mouth, in the which example, the nature of gluttons is very well painted as I think, and truly for the most part they be ravenars, and great eaters, which hath short necks and wide mouths. The, ix. Chapter. ¶ Of the diversity of meats and drinks. IT is very profitable, for every man, as well for them that be hole, as for those, that be sick to know the dyversite of meats and drynckes. For such as be whole, to the end that they, knowing the right use of them, may keep their health still. and such as be sick, may recover again their pristinat estate and sanity. Wherefore I intend to declare, as bryeflye as I can, what difference I have (by long observation, and partly by mine own experience) marked in meats, and drynckes. first you shall understand, that all bread corn, is of great power and strength: I call that strongest, that nouryssheth most. Also all four footed bests that be brought up tame, in the house, and be daily used for meant, and every great best, as gootes, hearts, swine, oxen, and sheep, and also every great bird or fowl, as goose, swan, peacock and crane and moreover honey and cheese, how much less it is to be marveled at, if that kind of bread, that the old ancient Romans used, were of great nourishment, sing that it was made of wheat, fat, honey, & cheese. Howbeit in the middle form, and in a lower degree of nouryshmentes be numbered, all those herbs, of the which we eat the roots, and of iiii footed beasts, the conye and hare: & all wild foul, excepting neither hens nor capons. Also all fishes that can not well suffer salt, nor can be bryned hole. In the lowest kind or form of nouryshmentes, is reckoned all manner of sallettes, & whatsoever groweth in a little stalk, as cucummers, gourds, or capers, and such like: and apples, olives, and also cokles. But although we have distributed the whole kinds in iii parts, yet some that be of one kind, differ very much one from an other. For one is either stronger or weaker than an other. For there is more nouryshment in flesh, then in any other meat and wheat is stronger, and nouryssheth more than mill, and mill more than barley: and of wheat, the strongest and hartyest is that, that we call rye: in latin it is called Siligo next in strength is the meal, having nothing taken from it: weakest of all is fine wheat flower, and beans also be of stronger nouryshment than pease. And of roots, the rape roots nourisheth more than either the pasnepe, or radysshe. And of herbs, beets be much stronger than lettuse: and offrute, grapes figs, and nuts, be stronger than such as properly be called apples: & also of those birds which be of the middle order: they be stronger that seek their meat on their feet, than they that fly abroad, and of such as fly continually abroad, the byggest be the strongest nouryshment, and their flesh is lighter that live in the water, than they that live in the land. But amongst the four footed beasts, hogs flesh is lyghtest, and beaffe hardest: and also of wild beasts, the byggest be of the strongest nutriment Of those fishes that be in the myddel order, the strongest is ling, and such as be salted, than tench, carp, hadocke, codlynges, and whytinge after these, gurnardes, pikes, roches dace, perches, & gudginges. And there is not only difference in the kinds of beasts, but also in themselves, as in their age & certain parts, & in the temperature of the wether, & country where they be brought up & bread: For every sucking beast of four feet, nourisheth less than such as suck not: also fish in the middle age, which be not come as yet to their full bigness, nourisheth not so much as they that be full grown. And of lamb, or kydde, the appurtenance, is of less strength, than the other parts be: and therefore they may be put in the middle order. Of birds, the necks & wings, be of lyghtest nouryshment as concerning the ground: that wheat is better that groweth on an hill, then that that groweth abroad in the field, and fish bred amongst the stones, is lighter nouryshment than that that is bread in the sand: and in the sand, lighter than in the mud. And therefore such as be breedde in fens and standing pools be harder of digestion, then the same bred in running waters, or amongst stones: and that is lighter & easilyer of concoction, which liveth in the deep, than that that liveth in the shallow. And wild bests be of lighter flesh, then tame: & that that is bread in moist wether, is lighter, than that that is bread in dry wether. And moreover such as be fat, be better than such as be lene: though they be of one kind: & they that be fresh, be easilyer of digestyon than they that be salt: and new be better than stolen or old: and that that is sodden better than that that is either roasted or fried. Hard eggs be of a very strong nouryshment, and soft and rear, very weak. Of drinks, ale is the strongest feather: and than milk: and wine that is made of the mulberye, and all old wines: And therefore such as be of weak natures should never drink any old wine: and of all drink, water nourysheth least: and that is strongest ale, which is made of strongest malt: and those wines, whose grapes grow in fat ground, are of moche stronger nouryshment than the wine of such as grow in lean. Of waters, the lightest, is rain water, and next unto it is the water of a fair spring or fountain, then of a running flood, and after of a well, then snowewater, & worse than snowewater is frozen water: and worse than frozen water is the water of a standing pool: & worst of all is fennewater, and for such as be diligent searchers, it is easy to know the nature of waters, for the best is lyghtest, and if there be two like in weight, the finest and best is that, that will soonest be hot, and soonest cold. And for the most part, this is always true, that every thing, as it is of strongest substance, so it is hardest to be digested, or altered into good juice, but where it can be altered, it nouryssheth more than that, that is moche fyner. Therefore, there must be an order observed in these meats, and drinks aforesaid. As he that hath all his natural powers and actions lusty, and is himself of a strong and hard complexion, leading his life in great labour, may safely eat the strongest meats: but he that is of a weak body, and liveth ydelye, must be fed with the weakest meat, and with that, that is easy of digestion, and will soonest be turned into good juice and blood. The ten chapter. ¶ Of the diverse qualities in meats NEither be these only the differences, for some meats breed evil juice, and some good, and some make much grosser fleume than other some do, and other some be more meet for the stomach, than other some be: and some be full of wind, and other some be not, and some engender heat: and again, there be other some breed cold. Some putrefieth easily in the stomach, and some will not putrefy at all: some make leuse the belie, & some bind the same: some provoke urine: and some restraineth it: some causeth sleep, & some, stirring up the senses, provoketh watch. The which, all aught to be known, because one profiteth the body, or the health, more than an other doth. The xi Chapter. ¶ What things have good juice. Wheat, rye, & wheat broth, and ryesse, be of good juice and be gentle, & very meet for the stomach, making it moderately hot: barley broth, some call it prysane, milk, and soft cheese, and all birds of the middle order, with some of the bigger, as feysaunt, peacock, curlewe, and capon, breed or engendre very good juice, and of fishes, such as be betwixt tender, and hard, as mullettes, pikes, gurnardes and perches. And of herbs, as lettuce, mallows, cucumbers, and gourds: of eggs, such as be rear and soft: of fructe, all that be sweet and also sweet wine, and to conclude all fat or chammye flesh. The xii Chapter. ¶ What things have evil juice. MIll, barley, and all powdered flesh, and also all salt fish, and old cheese, and the grain like pease, called fytches, certain rotes also, as rapes and radysshe, and moreover, beets, thyme, onions, garlic, hyssop, rue, fennel, cumyve, dyll, mustered? seed, lyekes, and also myltes, kydneys, and entrails almost of every great beast, breedeth evil juice & naughty blood, furthermore all sour and tart fruit, and to be brief all things that be sharp, tart, or bitter, and almost all fish that live in fens, lakes, or muddy ponds, or such as we call overgrown fish. The xiii chapter. ¶ What things of their nature be gentle, and mild, and again what be keen & sharp. SUppynges, broths, ptisans both of barley, and also of wheat, and all fat flesh, and clammy, the which almost is in every beast that is tame, & brought up within the house, but especilly in pigs and calves feet, and in lambs, kyddes or calves heads, & also the brains of the same, as well as of birds, be gentle and mild, but all things that be sour, or bitter, and all that be salt, also garlic, onions, rue, leeks, cucumbers, beets and all herbs, for the most part be sharp and keen. ¶ The xiiii. chapter. ¶ What meats make thick fleume, and what maketh thin. Rear eggs, ptisanes of wheat rise, and ptisanes of barley, and milk, and all clammy meats make thick fleume, and all salt meats, sharp meats, and tart meats engender thin fleume. The xu Chapter. ¶ What meats be good for the stomach. ALl sharp and rarte meats, & such also as be lightly powdered, be very meet and wholesome for the stomach, and besides these, unleavened bread, and rise, or ptisans and all wyldefowle, having white flesh, & of domestical beasts, beaffe hath no fellow. Of other beasts, the lean is better for the stomach then the fat: and beside these, swines feet and ears and the woumbes of barrayn best. Of herbs, lettuce, pasneppes, and sodden cucumbers. Of fruit cherries mulberries, tender pears, oranges, and quynces, beside these steped grapes, rear eggs, pineapples, white olives soaked in sharp vinegar, orels black: that were not gathered before they were thorough ripe, or else have been kept in sweet wine, be very meet & convenient for the stomach. ¶ The xuj. chapter. ¶ What be evil for the stomach. All hot meats, all salt meats, all manner of potages, and all things, that be very sweet, and all fatty meats, all suppynges, and leavened bread and also oil that is made of mill or barley, and salads that be sawesed with salt and oil: moreover almaner of these milk, green figs, and dry, and finally all that engender wind, do greatly hurt the stomach. Here it may be perceived, that all meats which engender good juice, be not good for the stomach, not nor that that is good for the stomach, therefore breedeth good juice because it is wholesome for the stomach. The xvii Chapter. ¶ What meats make the belly swell, and what delay the same. ALL manner of corn, and all manner of sweet meats, and fat meats, and potages and new wines also, make the belly swell, & of herbs, garlic, onions and lekes, and all manner of roots, except pasnepes, and read carretes, also both dry and green figs, but of both the green by the worse, moreover green grapes, & all manner of nuts, milk also and cheese, and all meat that is eaten raw, provoketh the swelling of the belly. Birds that have white flesh, and all manner of venery, and all fish of the middle order, and all manner of shell fish, and beside these rear or soft eggs, & old wine make no manner of swelling in the belly, Where note that fenelle seed and anise seed, do greatly ease and help the swelling of the belly. The xviii chapter. ¶ What things engender either heat or cold, Pepper, salt, flesh sodden in pottage, garlic, onions, dry figs, salt fish, and wine, do engender heat, lettuce, and the most part of herbs eaten raw, as sucorye, endive, borage, violet leves, man dragon and people. Also coriander, cucumbers, and gourds sodden. Of fruits, mulberries, cherries, sour apples and tender pears, and specially vine egre, taken either as meat or drink do augment cold. The xix chapter. ¶ What things putrefy easily in the maw, and what do not. Leavened bread, you and all manner, of bread, that is not made of wheat and milk, and honey, and all manner of cheese and wines, either that be over sweet, orels over thin, do easily putrefy in the maw or stomach Howebe it unleavened bread, and all wild fowl, of the middle order, beoffe also, and all hard and lean flesh, and all salt meats, & sharp wines, will continued long without any putrefaction. The xix chapter. ¶ What things do leuse the belly. unleavened barley bread, lettuce, purslane, dyl, onions, garlic, mallows, beets, cucumbers, cherries, mulberries, raisins, dry figs, oysters, muscles, and all manner of shell fish, but especially, broth made with them, also young and tender fish, and fat flesh in pottage, or else boiled, or such birds as swim, and besides these, milk, raw honey, sweet wine, and all that that is drunk lukewarm, and all fat or sweet meats, do make the belly laxatyve. The twenty Chapter. ¶ What things bind the belly. RYe bread unleavened, hard roasted eggs, little birds, but especially such as be tame brought up in the house, and useth not to fly abroad: also crane, hare, and gootes flesh: and beside these, beaffe, and hard cheese, and honey, that hath sodden long on the fire, peers also that be not ripe, and specially such as be called rolling peers. Also orynges and quynces, white olives, and wine that is tart and sharp: and finally all things that be hard, lean, tart, or sharp, and of flesh that that is roasted, sooner than that that is sodden, have power to bind the belly. The xxi Chapter. ¶ What things provoke urine. ALL things (for the most part) that smell fragantlye, help to provoke urine: mint also and rue, dyll, anysseede, parcelye seed, and fenellseede, besides these, time, coriandre, onions, and wormwood, thin wines also, and both round and long pepper, also mustered seed, and pyneapples. The. xxii. chapter. ¶ What things provoke sleep. and what cause watch. LEttuce, people, mandragon, mulberyes, and garlic, provoke sleep. Time, rue, hyssop and unions stir up the senses, whereby they cause watch. The end of the. two. book. ¶ The. iij. book, ¶ The first Chapter. ¶ Of exercise. Exercise is necessary for two. causes, the one to purge the body of excrements, and the other to change it from a worse state to a better. For seeing that every labour is not an exercise, but only that the is vehemennt, these. iii must needs consequently follow exercise. Hardness of the limbs, or of such parts as be exercised, increase of natural heat, & swifter moving of the spirits. These profits exercise bringeth with him, of necessity beside a great many other that come of these, as of the hardness of the parts the body is made both apt to endure much labour without pain, & also quicker, readier, & finally stronger to the same Of the increase of natural heat, the power or virtue attractive is quickened in all parts serving to nutrition, & moreover the alteration, or concoction in the same is made moche stronger, by reason whereof the body is nourished moche better, and more luckily, than it should have been: and every part also sprynkled, with a sweet moisture or dew, that maketh such membres as be hard, soft: and also mollifying the pores or fine holes of the skin, do open the same, which by reason of the strong and often moving of the spirits be clean purged of all their excrements and filthes, and also the excrements of the hole body be had away. Now if all these come of exercise, as no doubt they do, peradventure it is an hard matter to show the due & seasonable time of taking it: for because it helpeth the concoction throughout the whole body, there may be no quantity of raw juice, neither in the maw, nor in the small veins about the liver, jest the same be snatched into every part of the body, before it be made meet or profitable to the same by concoxion. Therefore because it doth cleanse and purge the little pores, and also expel the experiments, it may well be taken before meat. For Hypocrates saith: If thou nourish unclean bodies, and such as be full of excrements, thou shalt do them more harm, then good. Wherefore it is very evident that the best and meetest time for exercise is when yesterdays meat is concoted, both in the stomach and also in the veins. For if it be taken at any other time, either before or after, it must either fill the body full of crude and raw humours, or else augment pale, and citrine choler. Doubtless, the true mark of this time is taken of the urine. For white water betokeneth crudity, read, overmuch concoction, and that, that is somewhat pale, and a little turned to yellow, is a token that the second concoction is now already down: and so long as the water or urine is not infected with choler, it is still white: and when it hath taken to much of choler, than it is read. Therefore when it is betwixt read and white, than it is time to begin exercise, first easing the body of the excrements, of the guts or entrails, as well as of the urine or water, in the bladder, jest some part of the foresaid excrements, be either changed into the habit of the body, or else (through the violence of the great heat, which exercise and the vehement exagitation causeth) do putrifye, whereof there may ensue moche inconvenience. Therefore sing that exercise (as we said before) is a vehement moving, it is very meet and necessary to show for what bodies exercise is most convenient and holesoome: for Hypocrates counseleth them, whose bodies exceed in heat, to beware of all violent and vehement movings. Then shall such bodies live in idleness, without exercise? or any moving? no. For although Hypocrates forbid such to use any exercise that is violent: yet nevertheless he forbiddeth them idleness, commanding them to use those kinds of exercise which be not vehement, as walking & rydinge: but such as be cold of nature, or at the least exceed not in heat, and especially they that have many waist and superfluous humours, may safe lie use the vehement excersyces that be, in case they observe the time beforesayde, and do not sodeynlye, and at the first brunt, exercise themselves as vehemently as afterward. For as you see lute or harpestringes, if they be sodeynely and vehemently stretched, be put in great danger of breaving, so the sinews, and the fine small veins, if they be vehemently plucked any way with any sodden moving of the body, be in no less danger then of breaking. Therefore whosoever will exercise himself vehemently, even at the first, let him after he hath put of his clotheses, chafe his limbs softly, until they wax red, and be moderately hot, and then anoint his joints with oil & after let him not spare to excercise himself sum what vehemently, but such as may take their excercise at their own will and pleasure, let them begin softly encresing their labowre, still more and more, until such time as their flesh be throghlye swelled, and begin to sweated, but than it is time to leave, jest such humours as be good, and profitable to the nouryshment of the body be expelled, as well as they that be noughts And also immoderate excersise, drieth up the body, and consumeth as well the natural heat, as the natural moisture, whereby the spirits decay which shorteneth life, and hasteneth old age. There be many kinds of exersyses, which may all well be allowed: as shoting, dygging with a spade or mattock, boweling, either in the field or in the alley, hawking, hunting, dancing, running, leaping, tens, and football, but of these, or else of other, which is not rehearsed, the best be they that excersyse all parts equally, as shoting and tennyse, for dygging doth excersise the back to much, and running or dancing, the legs. Wherefore they be not so well to be allowed, as the rest, which exercyseth all parts a like. The ii Chapter. ¶ Of dyner or eating time. Diogenes' being asked when it was best for a man to be refreshed with meat, answered on this fashion saying, a rich man when he will, & a poor man when he may. As I do well allow that a poor man shall not eat before he have meat, so I do utterly condemn that a rich man shall eat when he will. For meat taken either out of time, or to much in quantity, is cause of many evils and maladies, to the body. It is taken out of time, either when the accustomed hour of eating is broken, as to defer dinner till iii of the clock at after noon, orels when that time is spent in eating, which is ordained for an other purpose as to eat in the night, which is ordained for sleep, and it may be taken to much in quantity, many ways. For sum man eating but iii bits, of beaffe, shall surfeit as sore of it as sum other that peradventure be side other meats, devoureth four groats worth of beaffe. And he also taketh to much which ceaseth not from eating, so long as he is able to eat or swallow any more as well as he that eateth so much that his belly is hard withal. Of these kinds of repletion, cometh either sudden death by breaking of the skin, called Peritoneum, or else a continual lask, called Lienteria, which always bringeth with it, a consumption, with many other diseases, of the which. I intend not to speak of, at this time. wherefore it is good, and wholesome for every man to leave eating, with an appetite, and not to eat so much at one meal, as might well suffice nature, iiii. & also to feed of such meats, as is most wholesome for his body. If he be cholerycke, and strong of nature leading a laboursumme life, than he may feed of gross and strong meats, as beaffe and such meats, as is put in the first order, but if he be flenmatyke, and of a weak nature, than let him take heed of gross meats, and feed of such as be in the middle order, of the which repletion is nothing so dangerous, as of the other. As concerning the time of eating, every man when he is hungered, if he may have it, yet one time is better than another, and the very best time is after excersyce. For then the body is clear purged of all excrements, and natural heat is increased, and made much stronger. And the next time is at xi of the clock before dyner, and again at vi a clock of the night. Howbeit children and such as be not yet at their full groweth, and old men which be weak and feeble, had need to eat oftener, so that they take the less at once, and put four hours, at the lest, between every meal. and also of the synnowes, which be the instruments of moving, and that the foresaid vapours whythe do fume up to the brain may not be crude or raw, the heart plucketh in to it both the blood and natural heat, that is in the utter parts. And this same rest is good for iii causes, first to moister the brain, and then to the generation of spirits, & last of all, to make an end of the concoction both in the stomach and liver. The material cause of sleep, are the sweet vapours, the which when they be made moist, stylling down, do stop the conduits of the sensis. For they be not clammy or gross humours, such as hurt the brain, but they be sweet fumes, the which after they be ascended, be made thick by the coldness of the brain, & run down, sprinkeling the brain with moisture. Therefore Aristotle doth compare the same motion of vapours to the flood Euripus, because in their going up they turn back again, and other follow, and come after, but the efficient cause is somewhat more dark and obscure. For it is certain that the heat and blood of the utter parts, is (as Hypocrates sayeth) drawenin to the heart, and though the body then be hotter with in, it is cold without: therefore when we sleep, we have need of many clotheses. The heat and blood is drawn in because that when the concoction is begun, the vapours do fume up, naturally: and when they be dissolved they come down fulbut on the heat of the heart, which driveth them back to the utter parts: and thus the heat is driven still more and more to the heart: the which heat gathered together doth make an end of concoction, that the vapours which ascend to the brain, may both be more plentiful and also sweeter. But I think that the heat is drawn into the heart, not so much for the coming down of vapours, as that the vital and animal powers be sociate and cowpled together by the divine providence of god. For what part soever be diseased, the heart, straight like a natural Prince or governor, endeavoureth all that he can to help it, & therefore he calleth in his heat, that he may help the necessary action, both of the stomach and liver. And when the utter parts of the body be at rest then the heart laboureth mooste, drawing unto him both heat and blood: of the which he enhendreth vital spirits. And truly I see not a sufficient cause, why so moche heat should be called in, except this same society of the powers were ordained of God, that as soon as the utter parts were at rest, the heart either for his own cause, or else for the stomach or liver, might draw unto him more plentiful heat to help the innermore actions, which be necessary for the conservation of nature, and as every man is most grieved, and afraid of his own iepardye, and doth covet first to defend himself: so every part of the body first provideth for himself, and this natural inclination is given to all manner of creatures, to covet first to save themselves. And therefore the heart especially for his own cause, draweth to himself heat, because he hath need of blood, and because his spirits be almost spent. And therefore he also healpeth the well of the blood, which is the liver, that it may cherysh itself, & bring forth, new, and fresh spirits, and moreover the brain being weary and desiring rest, leaveth moving of the utter parts, and whensoever the body hath need of recreation or quietness, the actions of all the virtues be agreed by and by. And this same consent or agreement, god hath given to all the parts, that after defatigation or weariness, they may be refreshed with rest and quietness. The final causes be great benefits, the which sleep giveth to every virtue or power, one by one: it helpeth nutrition because it maketh an end of concoction, and there is nothing more certain than that the crudities which come for lack of sleep is uncurable, because not only the meat is left undigested, but also the virtue of the stomach, is utterly destroyed, partly by the burden and weight of of the crude and raw meat, & partly because the sinews be hurt by the weakness of the brain that cometh for lack of sleep, as Hypocrates speaking generally, saith that overmoch watch bringeth most cruel cramps, and there have been many which for lack of sleep have felt often cramps in their necks, and the palsy in their legs, and also a great imbecility and weakness in their stomach. And bysyde these the natural heat, throughout the whole body decayeth sore, because it is not cheryshed with vital spirit. And hereof it may be perceived, how moche need we have of sleep, to the conservation of nutrition. For when the concoction is done well, and as it should be, there is nouryshment distributed to every part of the body, wherewith they be cheryshed: and there is also spirits engendered, which mynistreth new strength to the body, and yet the boiling heat of the body is mitigated with taking rest, and the body itself is sprynkled with a sweet dew, that cometh from the brain: and the brain also taketh strength wherewith the fynowes be made more lusty. It helpeth the vital power, because the heart drawing to him heat, doth bring forth great plenty of spirits, the which be made so much more brighter how much the blood is purer. And again it helpeth the animal powers (for whose conservation it is ordained of God) because the virtue both of the brain & sinews should be destroyed clean, with overmuch dryness, except that it were cherysshed, with sleep, in the which the brain is made moist, gathering to him again his pristinate strength. How acceptable also is sleep in diseases, and sorrows, the which many times it only heals, to man's great profit & ease. The .v. Chapter. ¶ Of sleeping time, and of the wholesome lying in bed. Sleep aught to be taken in the beginning of the night and there aught to be but a little space betwixt supper and sleep, therefore after a little soft walking, to the intent that the meat may go down into the maw, and also that the upper mouth of the maw, may be shut. I would counsel every man to take rest, lying him down first on the right side, lest with lying on the left side, he open the upper mouth of his stomach, howbeit after his first sleep, he may safely lie on the left side: and whosoever hath a weak stomach, let him lie grovelling upon his face, for it helpeth concoction, and letteth the generation of fleume, increasing natural heat, by reason whereof evil and naughty humours be ed and concocted. And no man that is wise, sleep upon his back: for thereof cometh many sore diseases. It is very wholesome to sleep, the shoulders and heed lying on high: for so the heat is easily gathered together, which maketh concoction perfit, and destroyeth all crudities and rawness, concerning also natural heat, engendereth good blood whereof the body taketh both strength and lively colour. The vi Chapter. ¶ What cometh of long watching. WIthout doubt, there is no thing that decayeth the strength more, either of the body, or of the wit, then to watch long after supper, because there followeth not only crudity; but also natural heat is dispersed abroad, and the virtue of the stomach faynteth & decayeth, & noughtye and unclean blood is engendered which is cause that the body is filled with evil humours, whereof cometh an evil habit, as paleness or leanness, and the troubling of the spirits with great infirmity and weakness of the brain. Wherefore youth aught to be accustomed and used to omit study in the beginning of the night, and so much the less to haunt banquesting and drinking till midnight no nor to spend the time in exitious labour which god hath ordained for every creature to rest in. I have heard in this matter, the diligence of many noble men, which being trowebled with matters of the common wealth, have ever observed this custom, that after supper, they went straight to bed, and in the mornings they did always dispatch their business. Sener writeth that Asinius would not so much as unseal a letter at after supper, so much the less read one, to the intent that he might go to bed with a quiet mind. And if thou wilt sleep sweetly (as Homer sayeth) thou must take heed of crudity in thy stomach, and also have a quiet mind. For the sorrow and pensifnes, of the heart, also the boiling and great heat of the blood and spirits, and earnest anger, distempereth the brain with unquyetnes, and will not suffer the heart to go about any natural action, and besides these, think you that it is no sin before god: to punish so cruelly and corrupt the nature of our bodies? seeing that holy scripture, commandeth to give honour and reverence to the body. Therefore we ought to give diligence that (as much as we may) we use well this rest and quietness ordained of god, by the which we are warned of our resurrection after the mortyfyenge of our bodies. As this rest which we call sleep is ordained of God, that in it our life may be renewed, because there is then a great number of spirits engendered, so let us think that death is not eternal misery, to the faithful, but a little space, in the which, it is meet and convenient for us, to be born again, to a better life. The vii chapter. ¶ Of dreams. ALthough the question of dreams pertaineth to the inner senses, yet I will speak of them even now. For I purpose not to prosecute the long circumstances of the natural philosophers, which endeavour to show a natural cause of every dream. Homer the old and ancient poet jesteth exceeding featlye of the ii gates of dreams, of the which gates, the one is the way or entrance of vain dreams, and the other of such as do signify sum thing. A dream is nothing, but an ymagination made in the sleep, when that divers spirits meet together in the brain, which being the instrument of our thoughts, do make divers images. Furthermore in sleep, the inner senses be a great deal more at liberty than the utter be. The viii Chapter. ¶ Of dreams natural. THe first kind of dreams, be common to every man, therefore they may well be called natural. These dreams be, when we fancy such things in the night as we thought on, when we were waking, whereupon Claudian the poet sayeth, judges dream of strife, and controversies of the law, & carters dream of their carts, orels when our dreams, answer dyrectelye to certain humours, the redounding or moving, of the which doth move our imagination, or spirits. As they that have plenty of fleume, dream of swymming or drowning & of this fashion night mares trouble us in our sleep, whanso ever any thick or gross humour is either in the brain or breast, letting the breast to move, the which moveth our ymagination, that it thinketh our breast be pressed down of sum other. The. ix. Chapter. ¶ Of that kind of dreams that foreseeth things to come. THe second kind of dreams, foreseeth things to cumme, but not be any divine power for every man as he hath a good tempered body & as he hath peculiar gifts, and properties of nature, before other men: as one man is better skylled, in musycke then an other, & an other more nimble to climb than he, so many by a peculiar gift of nature, have dreams that declare things to come by allegories and proverbs: Such were the dreams of Scylla, & Lucullus. And Augustus Cesers Physician called Musa, dreamed that Augustus his own tent was taken of his enemies. Wherefore Augustus warned of it, departed from thence, and even as the physician had dreamt, it chanced. For that wing where his tent was being put to flight, his own tent, and tabernacle, was taken, of his enemies. Tullye the eloquent romayne, rehearseth many like examples, & he himself dreamt, that Octavius should be emperor of Rome, long before he knew him. And Pontanus writeth of a certain man of war, which dreamt that he was devoured of a serpent, wherefore when other of his fellows took shypping to fight against their enemies, he only tarried at home, and it chanced that there was a fray in the city that day where it fortuned him to be slain, with a gunstoone, which in their tongue was called a serpent. Galen also writeth of a certain man that dreamt himself to be bathed in his own blood, and the next day when he opened his dream to the Physicians, they said that he had overmuch blood: wherefore contrary to Galenes' counsel, they let him blood, so he being destitute of strength died as he had dreamt before, bathed and washed in his own blood. Of these kinds of dreams there is no evident cause, neither in the moving of humours, nor yet in their quantity or quality, but that there be certain natures that foreseeth things to come, which have dreams oftentimes that signify something. Nor I will not be against them that think this property to come of the excellent temperature of the body, as the Astronomers do: but I think them not wise which give precepts of the interpretation of dreams, attributing the cause● to the motion of humours, seeing that one man hath not always like dreams. The. x. chapter. ¶ Of that kind of dreams the which prophesieth of things to come, by divine power. THe third kind of dreams is godly, which god worketh in man's minds, either by himself, or else by his angels, such were the prophecies of jacob, joseph, and Daniel, and other like, which holy scripture doth affirm to come from god, & not of light or trifling matters, but of Christ, and of the governing of the church, & king domes, & of their order. This kind of dreams aught well to be discerned from the other: for in the other there is no truth. And this one kind of dreams is very certain and true, as it shall appear better hereafter. The. xi. chapter. ¶ What kind of dreams is devilysh. THe fourth kind of dreams is divylysh, as when wytches and conjurers do dream of feasts, and plays. And the devil himself also oftentimes showeth horrible spectacles to men in their sleep, as Valerius writeth of the Romayn Cassius. And there was a certain Roman called Latinus, which was commanded in his sleep to remember the consul, of certain things as concerning the stage plays, the which because he had not done, the devil killed his son. Here both the cause & the effect also doth declare, that the dream was devilish. For the devil always endeavoureth to establish such customs as be wicked, and noughtye, and he is delighted with unjust death: there hath chanced many like unto this in the old time, no less superstitious. And we have heard now of late days, the vain dreams of the Anabaptistes, commanding sin, or confirming errors, and heresies: the which doubtless may be perceived and judged of godly and wise men. The. x. chapter. ¶ To what kind of dreams we aught only to give credit. I Have rehearsed iiii kinds of dreams the why●h if they be well ●onsydred and looked upon, it shall be easy to judge of this common question, that is: whether any thing may be conjectured of dreams, or no: and whether any man aught to give credit or to trust to dreams or no. One kind of dreams is true and certain: wherefore every man aught to give credit unto it, which is the same kind, that prophecyeth of things to come, by revelation from God, insomoch that they which have such dreams, know that they come from God. jacob and joseph knew that their dreams came from God, and therefore they knew the signification of them. Also god doth add a noble testimony of this unto the profit Daniel, when Nabuchodonozor had forgotten his dream, god showed it again unto Daniel, that it should be known, that it came from him. Therefore this kind of dreams is except from that rule which forbiddeth us to give credit unto dreams For when they come from God, and when God testifieth that he is the author of them, than it is necessary to believe them: of the other dreams there aught nothing to be affirmed. And as concerning the four kind of dreams, it is utterly to be abhorred. Dreams of the second kind, although theybe conjectures, yet there aught to be no affirmation of them: wherefore we aught to give no credit unto them, and for the most part, they be full of ambiguity. Therefore many kings and captains have been deceived with such dreams. The last battle which Pompeius fought with Cesar, he was moved to it with a dream, which promised him victory, because he had dreamed that he was in his royal seat at Rome: and thought the people rejoicing in him, clapped their hands for joy: but Pompeius was deceived in the interpretation. For that same rejoicing with the hands of the people, did not pretend victory, but rather the encouragements and provokements of Domitius Lentulus and Labienus, which the morrow after his dream, counseled him to fight, promising him victory, and setting his mind on fire with vain hope. Darius also dreamt, that he saw the host of the Macedonians to go through Asia burning, & to come to Babylon, and there Alexander himself having a Percians rob, to go into the church, and straight to vanysh out of sight. Therefore Darius thought that the stames of fire did p●●●ende death to Alexander's army, and that Alexander should become captive, because he was decked after his country fassyon: but by the fire was fignifyed the great haste of Alexander, and his victories, & his garment betokened that he should be king and lord over the whole dominion, and empire of the Pertians. Hamilcar capitayne of the Carthageneans dreamt that he supped in Siracusa therefore the next day purposing to take the town, made battlement to the walls, where it fortuned him to be taken by reason of a tumult in his own army: so being a captive he supped in the city, as he had dreamt before. Wherefore we ought to give no credit to this kind of dreams: seeing they be so variable and deceitful. Therefore let them be as conjectures, which sometime chance or happen. But I would that everye man should think, that they be both deceitful conjectures, and also uncertain, as many more be. Let superstition be set aside, and let us remember the saying of Solomon: where many dreams be, there is moche vanity and error. The. xiii. chapter. ¶ Of Venus or bodily pleasure. HIppocrates saith that Venus or bodily lust, is a part of the falling evil Therefore it is not to be desired, over greedily, nor yet utterly to be abhorred, seeing that the kind of all living rreatures, is conserved by generation, and as Celsus sayeth: If it be used but seldom, it maketh the body to grow, and used often, it doth not only dry the body, but also it dissolveth it, utterly because both vital, animal, and natural spirit is wasted with the immoderate use of it, and the body is beguiled also of his nouryshement. Howbeit when there followeth neither greyfe nor sorrow after it, there can come no great harm of it, and the use of it, is worse in summer, and in autumn, then either in the winter or in the spring, and it is holsommer in the night, then in the day, & also it is better full, than empty, and all manner of labour after it, is utterly pernicious. The. xiiii. Chapter. ¶ Of the times of the year. THe holsemest time of the year is the spring, and next unto it is winter, summer is not so good, and autumn is extreme perilous. For they be best, which be most temperate and equal, whether they be hot or cold. Therefore autumn is very dangerous because it is hot then about noon, the morning and evening both being cold, thereof it cometh that the body resolved with the heat at noon, is made stark, with the sudden cold of the evening, which causeth many diseases. And in the spring, where as is equality (if there be any in the year) the fairest days be most wholesome, and raynye days be better than clowdye without rain, and in winter those days are best, that be not wyndye, and in summer, when the western wind bloweth. some peradventure will look that I should have writ of baths saying that there is nothing that is more medicinable than they be: But forasmuch as we englyshmen have no use of them, and also saying that there are divers, which have wryt of them very well in Englysshe, I thought I had no need to intermeddle with them, yet if any man will use them, let him bathe him in warm water, before meat, and after meat, in cold, and he shall not greatly err in the taking of them. Finis. ¶ The contents of this book. ¶ The first book. ¶ An exhortation of Physic to her ministers. Fol. iiii. ¶ The diversity of sects in physic. Fol. vi. ¶ Of the Elements. Fol. twelve. ¶ The difference of temperatures. Fol. xiii. ¶ The generation of the liver, of the heart, and of the brain. Fol. nineteeen. ¶ The sections of the especial parts of the body. Fol. xxiii. ¶ Of veins, pulses, and sinews. Fol. xl. ¶ Of humours. Fol. xlii. ¶ Of blood. Fol. xliii. ¶ Of fleume. Fol. eodem. ¶ Of choler. Fol. eodem. ¶ Of melancholy, or black choler. Fol. xliiii. ¶ Of unnatural humours. Fol. eod. ¶ Of unnatural fleume. Fol. xlv. ¶ Of unnatural yellow choler. Fol. eod. ¶ Of melancholy unnatural. Fol. eod. ¶ Of Spirits. Fol. xlvii. ¶ Of animal spirits. Fol. xlviii. ¶ The second book. ¶ Of natural powers and actions. Fol. xlix. ¶ Of nutrition. Fol. li. ¶ Of the faculties or virtues, with which nature hath furnisshed every part, serving to nutrition. Fol. lvi. ¶ Of the power or virtue attractive. Fo. lull. ¶ Of the virtue retentive. Fol. lix. ¶ Of concoction. Fol. lx. ¶ Of the virtue expulsive. Fol. eod. ¶ Of the provoking of appetite. Fo. lxiii. ¶ Of the diversity of food. Fol. lxiiii. ¶ Of divers qualities of meats. Fol. lxxiii ¶ Meats of good juice. Fol. eod. ¶ Meats of evil juice. Fol. liix. ¶ Of meats that be mild and gentle of Nature, and of the contrary. Fol. eod. ¶ Of meats engendering fleume. Fol. lxx. ¶ Meats good for the stomach. Fol. lxx. ¶ Evil meats for the stomach. Fol. eod ¶ Of meats that make the belly to swell, and what delay the same Fol. lxxi. ¶ Of things engendering heat or cold. fo. eod. ¶ Of meats that putrefy in the maw, and other that do not. Fol. lxxii. ¶ Of things that leuse the body. Fol. eod. ¶ Of things binding the belly. Fol. lxxil. ¶ Of things provoking urine. Fol. eod. ¶ Of things provoking sleep, and other that cause watch. Fol. eodem. ¶ The third book. ¶ Of excercise. Fol. lxxiiii. ¶ Of dyner or eating time. Fol. lxxvii ¶ Of rest after meat. Fol. lxxix. ¶ Of sleep. Fol. lxxx. ¶ Of Sleeping time & of the wholesome lying in bed. Fol. lxxxiiii. ¶ Of long watching. Fol. lxxxv. ¶ Of the diversity of dreams. Fol. lxxxvi. ¶ Of Venus. Fol. xciii. ¶ Of the times of the year Fol. xciiii. FINIS. Fol. 4. Pagi. i Line. 4. rede Tipheus. Fol. 6. pag. i line. 12. rede to perceive. Fol. 6. pag. two. line. 15. rede gathering. Fol. 14. pag. i lin. 69. rede distributivam. Fol. 15. pag. i line. 17. read 〈◊〉 SATURN'S 〈◊〉 SATURN'S 〈◊〉. Fol. 27. pag. two. line. 22. rede rare. Fol. 35. pag. two. line. 14. rede jeiunum. Fol. 69. pag. i lin. 8. rede clammy. Fol. 79. pag. i line. 14. rede noon. Finis. ¶ Imprinted at London by Edward Whytchurche. Cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum.