Galen is a good authority upon such a subject, since, if (like other pagans) he ate no breakfast himself, in some sense he may be called the cause of breakfast to other men, by treating of those things which could safely be taken upon an empty stomach.  As to the time, he (like many other authors) says, [peri tritaen, ae (to makroteron) peri tetartaen,] about the third, or at farthest about the fourth hour:  and so exact is he, that he assumes the day to lie exactly between six and six o’clock, and to be divided into thirteen equal portions.  So the time will be a few minutes before nine, or a few minutes before ten, in the forenoon.  That seems fair enough.  But it is not time in respect to its location that we are so much concerned with, as time in respect to its duration.  Now, heaps of authorities take it for granted, that you are not to sit down—­you are to stand; and, as to the place, that any place will do—­“any corner of the forum,” says Galen, “any corner that you fancy;” which is like referring a man for his salle a manger to Westminster Hall or Fleet Street.  Augustus, in a letter still surviving, tells us that he jentabat, or took his jentaculum in his carriage; now in a wheel carriage, (in essedo,) now in a litter or palanquin (in lectica.) This careless and disorderly way as to time and place, and other circumstances of haste, sufficiently indicate the quality of the meal you are to expect.  Already you are “sagacious of your quarry from so far.”  Not that we would presume, excellent reader, to liken you to Death, or to insinuate that you are “a grim feature.”  But would it not make a saint “grim,” to hear of such preparations for the morning meal?  And then to hear of such consummations as panis siccus, dry bread; or, (if the learned reader thinks it will taste better in Greek,) [Greek:  artos xaeros!] And what may this word dry happen to mean?  “Does it mean stale bread?” says Salmasius.  “Shall we suppose,” says he, in querulous words, “molli et recenti opponi,” and from that antithesis conclude it to be, “durum et non recens coctum, eoque sicciorem?” Hard and stale, and for that reason the more arid!  Not quite so bad as that, we hope.  Or again—­“siccum pro biscocto, ut hodie vocamus, sumemus?"[5] By hodie Salmasius means, amongst his countrymen of France, where biscoctus is verbatim reproduced in the word bis (twice) cuit, (baked;) whence our own biscuit.  Biscuit might do very well, could we be sure that it was cabin biscuit:  but Salmasius argues—­that in this case he takes it to mean “buccellatum, qui est panis nauticus;” that is, the ship company’s biscuit, broken with a sledge-hammer.  In Greek, for the benefit again of the learned reader, it is termed [Greek:  dipuros], indicating that it has passed twice under the action of fire.