THE PHILOSOPHER, OR THE PHYSICIAN

CONSULTED BY NATURE

and can very often apply his mind to the most diverse things. We have often seen performers in public squares who, having accustomed their bodies—usually prone to lethargy and laziness—to various movements through constant practice, can walk through the air on extended ropes, or leap over dangerous blades and flames with such agility that the evidence of one's own eyes is often doubted.

Should we then fear for our own minds, thinking they cannot grasp many things at once, if they are led and developed through proper cultivation even toward diverse and very difficult subjects? Therefore, so that the Naturae-consultus one consulted by Nature may learn to influence Nature well, he never rests in small or solitary matters. For he clearly understands that God does not grant a wealth of wisdom to those who yawn, and that many things are achieved by doing which seem impossible to the lazy and idle. Thus, for the one we wish to see raised above humble and common impulses, we must prioritize a broad disposition, noble efforts, and a great spirit.

But truly, what force or necessity compels the Philosopher to rush into all parts of the entire worldly economy, undertaking such difficult journeys? Why should he examine the decrees of astronomers and astrologers; gather the theories of meteorologists, physicists, and herbalists; consult the leaders of agriculture and those skilled in metallic affairs; learn their experiences and observations; diligently explore the natures of animals; and finally, include all those things within the principles, elements, and certain laws of generation and transplantation? Do all these things, or even individual parts, seem to contribute anything to medicine through the privilege of some studious investigation? Come now, listeners: what is there in the Republica commonwealth of the human body that does not shine forth, scattered throughout that larger arrangement of the entire Universe? What, I ask, is in the marvelous structure of the world that man does not carry around in his own workshop? For all things came from nothing, and man came from all things: he is truly the final Technurgema divine masterpiece of creation. Man, in his embrace, encompasses all things,

and he carries all things within himself. Because man was made from everything, he also contains those things in himself. He was made from the world; he encompasses the world in himself, and he is encompassed by the world. Therefore, the Magnus Mundus Great World or Macrocosm harmonizes with the parvissimo mundo very small world or Microcosm through a bond of unity and necessity. Because of this, the wisest men of antiquity, with farsighted judgment, called Man the Microcosmum Microcosm. This was based on a far different and more divine interpretation than what we see today among many who, with quite thick and lazy negligence, weigh the mysteries of the ancients. We rightly say, therefore, that in Man rests both the Creator himself and the entire Creation. For this reason, to properly perform the duty in which we wish the Physician consulted by Nature to excel, we deny that he will apply anything stable or lasting to influence nature well unless he has learned to properly compare all the works of the Greater World with the Lesser. He must grasp the interconnected series of most beautiful things in the upper and lower realms that harmonize with each other. He must know how to aim toward the goal he uniquely keeps in view, using a certain divine analogy subject to a perpetual order.

Therefore, after he has thoroughly examined the Economy of the Greater World by weighing all reasons, and has made the heaven, the earth, and what they contain familiar to himself, he finally turns to the Lesser World. There, he explores all those same things which he had previously collected as scattered pieces from the ocean of the entire Universe. He governs each thing with a worldly philosophy that is clearly similar and precisely recognized, working toward both the preservation and the restoration of the body. However, just as we need a wise midwife when we are born, so our Philosopher will wish for a faithful and circumspect Thesea Theseus or guide when he treads this area, which is not unlike a Labyrinth. The paths are so little worn: everything bristles with the very rough obstacles of disagreements and the unfair accusations of most restless minds. For here, certain Spurio-Galenici False followers of Galen, hindered by I know not what fastidious