This is a modern-English version of A History of Magic and Experimental Science, Volume 1 (of 2): During the First Thirteen Centuries of Our Era, originally written by Thorndike, Lynn. It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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Transcriber’s Notes

Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations in hyphenation and accents have been standardised but all other spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.

Obvious typos have been silently corrected. Variations in hyphenation and accents have been standardized, but all other spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.

On page 313 “sees no reason why divination in darkness, in a wall, or in sunlight, or by potions and incantations,” while well seems more likely than wall the original text is unchanged.

On page 313 “sees no reason why divination in darkness, in a wall, or in sunlight, or by potions and incantations,” while well seems more likely than wall the original text is unchanged.

Footnote 1477: century, fols. 156-74 has been replaced by 56-74.

Footnote 1477: century, pages 156-74 has been replaced by 56-74.

The table of contents lists the contents of volume 2 as well as volume 1.

The table of contents includes the contents of volume 2 and volume 1.

The cover was prepared by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

The cover was created by the transcriber and is now in the public domain.

A
HISTORY OF MAGIC AND
EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCE

A HISTORY OF MAGIC AND EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCE

VOLUME I

Volume I

A
HISTORY OF MAGIC AND
EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCE

DURING THE FIRST THIRTEEN
CENTURIES OF OUR ERA

DURING THE FIRST THIRTEEN
CENTURIES OF OUR ERA

BY LYNN THORNDIKE

BY LYNN THORNDIKE

VOLUME I

VOLUME 1

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS
NEW YORK AND LONDON

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS
NEW YORK AND LONDON

Copyright 1923 Columbia University Press
First published by The Macmillan Company 1923

Copyright 1923 Columbia University Press
First published by The Macmillan Company 1923

ISBN 0-231-08794-2
Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7

ISBN 0-231-08794-2
Made in the United States of America
10 9 8 7


[Pg v]

[Pg v]

CONTENTS

PAGE
Introduction ix
Abbreviations xiii
Manuscript Designation xv
List of Works Often Cited by Author and Date of Publication or Short Title xvii
CHAPTER
1. Intro 1
BOOK I. THE ROMAN EMPIRE
Introduction 39
2. Pliny's Natural History 41
I. Its Place in the History of Science 42
II. Its Experimental Tendency 53
III. Pliny’s Account of Magic 58
IV. The Science of the Magi 64
V. Pliny’s Magical Science 72
3. Seneca and Ptolemy: Natural Divination and Astrology 100
4. Galen 117
I. The Man and His Times 119
II. His Medicine and Experimental Science 139
III. His Attitude Toward Magic 165
5. Ancient Applied Science and Magic: Vitruvius, Hero, and the Greek Alchemists 182
6. Plutarch's Essays 200
7. Apuleius from Madaura 221
8. Philostratus’s Life of Apollonius of Tyana 242
9. Literary and Philosophical Critiques of Superstition: Cicero, Favorinus, Sextus Empiricus, Lucian 268
10. Fake Mystic Writings of Hermes, Orpheus, and Zoroaster 287
[Pg vi]
11. Neo-Platonism and Its Connections to Astrology and Theurgy 298
12. Aelian, Solinus, and Horapollo 322
BOOK II. EARLY CHRISTIAN THOUGHT
Foreword 337
13. The Enoch Book 340
14. Philo of Alexandria 348
15. The Gnostics 360
16. The Christian Apocrypha 385
17. The Acknowledgments of Clement and Simon Magus 400
18. The Confession of Cyprian and Other Similar Stories 428
19. Origen and Celsus 436
20. Other Christian Conversations about Magic Before Augustine 462
21. Christianity and Natural Science: Basil, Epiphanius, and the Physiologus 480
22. Augustine on Magic and Astrology 504
23. The Combination of Pagan and Christian Ideas in the Fourth and Fifth Centuries 523
BOOK III. THE EARLY MIDDLE AGES
24. The Story of Nectanebus, or the Alexander Legend in the Early Middle Ages 551
25. Medieval Medicine 566
26. Pseudo-Science in Natural Science 594
27. Other Early Medieval Learning: Boethius, Isidore, Bede, Gregory 616
28. Arabic Occult Science of the 9th Century 641
29. Latin Astrology and Divination, Particularly in the Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Centuries 672
30. Gerbert and the Introduction of Arabic Astrology 697
31. Anglo-Saxon, Salernitan, and Other Latin Medicine in Manuscripts from the Ninth to the Twelfth Century 719
32. Constantine the African (c. 1015-1087) 742
33. Treatises on the Arts Before the Introduction of Arabic Alchemy 760
34. Marbod 775
Indexes:
General 783
Bibliographical 811
Manuscripts 831
[Pg vii]
BOOK IV. THE TWELFTH CENTURY
35. The Early Scholastics: Peter Abelard and Hugh of St. Victor 3
36. Adelard of Bath 14
37. William of Conches 50
38. Some 12th Century translators, mainly of astrology from Arabic 66
39. Bernard Silvester; Astrology and Geomancy 99
40. Saint Hildegard of Bingen 124
41. John of Salisbury 155
42. Daniel of Morley and Roger of Hereford 171
43. Alexander Neckam on the Nature of Things 188
44. Moses Maimonides 205
45. Hermetic Books in the Middle Ages 214
46. Kiranides 229
47. Prester John and the Wonders of India 236
48. The Pseudo-Aristotle 246
49. Solomon and the Ars Notoria 279
50. Dream Journals from Ancient Times 290
BOOK V. THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY
Foreword 305
51. Michael Scott 307
52. William of Auvergne 338
53. Thomas of Cantimpré 372
54. Bartholomew from England 401
55. Robert Grosseteste 436
56. Vincent of Beauvais 457
57. Early 13th Century Medicine: Gilbert of England and William of England 477
58. Petrus the Hispanic 488
59. Albert the Great 517
I. Life 521
II. As a Scientist 528
III. His Allusions to Magic 548
IV. Marvelous Virtues in Nature 560
V. Attitude Toward Astrology 577
[Pg viii]
60. Thomas Aquinas 593
61. Roger Bacon 616
I. Life 619
II. Criticism of and Part in Medieval Learning 630
III. Experimental Science 649
IV. Attitude Toward Magic and Astrology 659
62. The Astronomical Mirror 692
63. Three Treatises Attributed to Albert 720
64. Experiments and Secrets: Medical and Biological 751
65. Experiments and Secrets: Chemical and Magical 777
66. Picatrix 813
67. Guido Bonatti and Bartholomew of Parma 825
68. Arnaldus de Villanova 841
69. Raymond Lull 862
70. Peter of Abano 874
71. Cecco d'Ascoli 948
72. Conclusion 969
Indexes:
General 985
Bibliographical 1007
Manuscripts 1027

[Pg ix]

[Pg ix]

PREFACE

This work has been long in preparation—ever since in 1902-1903 Professor James Harvey Robinson, when my mind was still in the making, suggested the study of magic in medieval universities as the subject of my thesis for the master’s degree at Columbia University—and has been foreshadowed by other publications, some of which are listed under my name in the preliminary bibliography. Since this was set up in type there have also appeared: “Galen: the Man and His Times,” in The Scientific Monthly, January, 1922; “Early Christianity and Natural Science,” in The Biblical Review, July, 1922; “The Latin Pseudo-Aristotle and Medieval Occult Science,” in The Journal of English and Germanic Philology, April, 1922; and notes on Daniel of Morley and Gundissalinus in The English Historical Review. For permission to make use of these previous publications in the present work I am indebted to the editors of the periodicals just mentioned, and also to the editors of The Columbia University Studies in History, Economics, and Public Law, The American Historical Review, Classical Philology, The Monist, Nature, The Philosophical Review, and Science. The form, however, of these previous publications has often been altered in embodying them in this book, and, taken together, they constitute but a fraction of it. Book I greatly amplifies the account of magic in the Roman Empire contained in my doctoral dissertation. Over ten years ago I prepared an account of magic and science in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries based on material available in print in libraries of this country and arranged topically, but I did not publish it, as it seemed advisable to supplement it by study abroad and of the manuscript material, and to adopt an arrangement by authors. The result is Books IV and V of the present work.

This project has taken a long time to prepare—ever since 1902-1903 when Professor James Harvey Robinson suggested that I study magic in medieval universities for my master’s thesis at Columbia University, back when I was still shaping my ideas. It has been hinted at in other publications, some of which are listed under my name in the preliminary bibliography. Since this was set in type, there have also been: “Galen: the Man and His Times,” in The Scientific Monthly, January 1922; “Early Christianity and Natural Science,” in The Biblical Review, July 1922; “The Latin Pseudo-Aristotle and Medieval Occult Science,” in The Journal of English and Germanic Philology, April 1922; and notes on Daniel of Morley and Gundissalinus in The English Historical Review. I am grateful to the editors of the aforementioned periodicals, as well as to the editors of The Columbia University Studies in History, Economics, and Public Law, The American Historical Review, Classical Philology, The Monist, Nature, The Philosophical Review, and Science for allowing me to use these previous publications in this work. The format of these earlier publications has often been changed in this book, and together, they make up only a small part of it. Book I significantly expands on the discussion of magic in the Roman Empire included in my doctoral dissertation. More than ten years ago, I wrote a paper on magic and science in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries based on material available in print in libraries across this country and organized it by topic, but I didn’t publish it because I thought it would be better to enhance it through study abroad and explore manuscript material, as well as to organize it by authors. The outcome is Books IV and V of this work.

My examination of manuscripts has been done especially at the British Museum, whose rich collections, perhaps because somewhat inaccessibly catalogued, have been less used by students of medieval learning than such libraries as the[Pg x] Bodleian and Bibliothèque Nationale. I have worked also, however, at both Oxford and Paris, at Munich, Florence, Bologna, and elsewhere; but it has of course been impossible to examine all the thousands of manuscripts bearing upon the subject, and the war prevented me from visiting some libraries, such as the important medieval collection of Amplonius at Erfurt. However, a fairly wide survey of the catalogues of collections of manuscripts has convinced me that I have read a representative selection. Such classified lists of medieval manuscripts as Mrs. Dorothea Singer has undertaken for the British Isles should greatly facilitate the future labors of investigators in this field.

My study of manuscripts has primarily taken place at the British Museum, whose extensive collections, maybe due to their somewhat hard-to-navigate cataloging, have been less utilized by students of medieval studies compared to libraries like the [Pg x] Bodleian and Bibliothèque Nationale. I’ve also worked at libraries in Oxford and Paris, as well as in Munich, Florence, Bologna, and other places; however, it's naturally been impossible to go through all the thousands of manuscripts related to this topic, and the war stopped me from visiting some libraries, like the significant medieval collection of Amplonius in Erfurt. Still, a fairly broad look at manuscript catalogs has assured me that I’ve read a representative selection. Lists of classified medieval manuscripts that Mrs. Dorothea Singer has compiled for the British Isles should greatly help future researchers in this area.

Although working in a rather new field, I have been aided by editions of medieval writers produced by modern scholarship, and by various series, books, and articles tending, at least, in the same direction as mine. Some such publications have appeared or come to my notice too late for use or even for mention in the text: for instance, another edition of the De medicamentis of Marcellus Empiricus by M. Niedermann; the printing of the Twelve Experiments with Snakeskin of John Paulinus by J. W. S. Johnsson in Bull. d. l. société franç. d’hist. d. l. méd., XII, 257-67; the detailed studies of Sante Ferrari on Peter of Abano; and A. Franz, Die kirchlichen Benediktionen im Mittelalter, 1909, 2 vols. The breeding place of the eel (to which I allude at I, 491) is now, as a result of recent investigation by Dr. J. Schmidt, placed “about 2500 miles from the mouth of the English Channel and 500 miles north-east of the Leeward Islands” (Discovery, Oct., 1922, p. 256) instead of in the Mediterranean.

Although I’m working in a fairly new field, I've been helped by modern scholarship editions of medieval writers, along with various series, books, and articles that align with my direction. Some of these publications came to my attention too late to be used or even mentioned in the text: for example, another edition of the De medicamentis by Marcellus Empiricus by M. Niedermann; the printing of Twelve Experiments with Snakeskin by John Paulinus by J. W. S. Johnsson in Bull. d. l. société franç. d’hist. d. l. méd., XII, 257-67; the in-depth studies by Sante Ferrari on Peter of Abano; and A. Franz's Die kirchlichen Benediktionen im Mittelalter, 1909, 2 vols. The breeding location of the eel (which I reference at I, 491) is now, due to recent research by Dr. J. Schmidt, determined to be “about 2500 miles from the mouth of the English Channel and 500 miles north-east of the Leeward Islands” (Discovery, Oct., 1922, p. 256) instead of in the Mediterranean.

A man who once wrote in Dublin[1] complained of the difficulty of composing a learned work so far from the Bodleian and British Museum, and I have often felt the same way. When able to visit foreign collections or the largest libraries in this country, or when books have been sent for my use for a limited period, I have spent all the available time in the collection of material, which has been written up later as opportunity offered. Naturally one then finds many small and some important points which require verification or further investigation, but which must be postponed until one’s next vacation or trip abroad, by which time some of the smaller points are apt to be forgotten.[Pg xi] Of such loose threads I fear that more remain than could be desired. And I have so often caught myself in the act of misinterpretation, misplaced emphasis, and other mistakes, that I have no doubt there are other errors as well as omissions which other scholars will be able to point out and which I trust they will. Despite this prospect, I have been bold in affirming my independent opinion on any point where I have one, even if it conflicts with that of specialists or puts me in the position of criticizing my betters. Constant questioning, criticism, new points of view, and conflict of opinion are essential in the pursuit of truth.

A man who once wrote in Dublin complained about how tough it is to write a scholarly work so far away from the Bodleian and the British Museum, and I’ve often felt the same way. When I get the chance to visit foreign collections or some of the biggest libraries in this country, or when books are lent to me for a limited time, I spend every available moment gathering materials, which I later write up when the opportunity arises. Naturally, I end up finding many small details and some important points that need to be verified or looked into further, but those have to be put off until my next vacation or trip abroad, and by then, I tend to forget some of the minor details. Of such loose ends, I worry that there are more than I’d like. I’ve often caught myself misinterpreting things, putting the wrong emphasis, and making other mistakes, so I’m sure there are other errors and omissions that other scholars will notice and I hope they will. Despite this possibility, I’ve been confident in expressing my independent opinion on any matter where I have one, even if it goes against what specialists say or means I’m criticizing those who know more than I do. Constant questioning, criticism, new perspectives, and differing opinions are essential in the pursuit of truth.[Pg xi]

After some hesitation I decided, because of the expense, the length of the work, and the increasing unfamiliarity of readers with Greek and Latin, as a rule not to give in the footnotes the original language of passages used in the text. I have, however, usually supplied the Latin or Greek when I have made a free translation or one with which I felt that others might not agree. But in such cases I advise critics not to reject my rendering utterly without some further examination of the context and line of thought of the author or treatise in question, since the wording of particular passages in texts and manuscripts is liable to be corrupt, and since my purpose in quoting particular passages is to illustrate the general attitude of the author or treatise. In describing manuscripts I have employed quotation marks when I knew from personal examination or otherwise that the Latin was that of the manuscript itself, and have omitted quotation marks where the Latin seemed rather to be that of the description in the catalogue. Usually I have let the faulty spelling and syntax of medieval copyists stand without comment. But as I am not an expert in palaeography and have examined a large number of manuscripts primarily for their substance, the reader should not regard my Latin quotations from them as exact transliterations or carefully considered texts. He should also remember that there is little uniformity in the manuscripts themselves. I have tried to reduce the bulk of the footnotes by the briefest forms of reference consistent with clearness—consult lists of abbreviations and of works frequently cited by author and date of publication—and by use of appendices at the close of certain chapters.

After some hesitation, I decided not to include the original Greek and Latin passages in the footnotes due to cost, the length of the work, and the growing unfamiliarity of readers with these languages. However, I usually provide the Latin or Greek when I’ve made a free translation or one that I think others may dispute. In such cases, I urge critics not to completely dismiss my translation without further examining the context and line of thought of the author or treatise. The wording of specific passages in texts and manuscripts can often be flawed, and my intention in quoting them is to illustrate the author's general attitude. When describing manuscripts, I used quotation marks when I knew from personal inspection or other reliable sources that the Latin was from the manuscript itself and left them out when the Latin appeared to come from the catalog description. Generally, I have let the poor spelling and syntax of medieval copyists remain unaltered. Since I’m not an expert in paleography and have reviewed many manuscripts mainly for their content, readers should not consider my Latin quotations as exact reproductions or carefully checked texts. Also, keep in mind that there is little consistency among the manuscripts themselves. I’ve aimed to reduce the number of footnotes with the shortest possible references for clarity—check the lists of abbreviations and frequently cited works by author and publication date—and by using appendices at the end of certain chapters.

Within the limits of a preface I may not enumerate all the libraries where I have been permitted to work or which[Pg xii] have generously sent books—sometimes rare volumes—to Cleveland for my use, or all the librarians who have personally assisted my researches or courteously and carefully answered my written inquiries, or the other scholars who have aided or encouraged the preparation of this work, but I hope they may feel that their kindness has not been in vain. In library matters I have perhaps most frequently imposed upon the good nature of Mr. Frederic C. Erb of the Columbia University Library, Mr. Gordon W. Thayer, in charge of the John G. White collection in the Cleveland Public Library, and Mr. George F. Strong, librarian of Adelbert College, Western Reserve University; and I cannot forbear to mention the interest shown in my work by Dr. R. L. Poole at the Bodleian. For letters facilitating my studies abroad before the war or application for a passport immediately after the war I am indebted to the Hon. Philander C. Knox, then Secretary of State, to Frederick P. Keppel, then Assistant Secretary of War, to Drs. J. Franklin Jameson and Charles F. Thwing, and to Professors Henry E. Bourne and Henry Crew. Professors C. H. Haskins,[2] L. C. Karpinski, W. G. Leutner, W. A. Locy, D. B. Macdonald, L. J. Paetow, S. B. Platner, E. C. Richardson, James Harvey Robinson, David Eugene Smith, D’Arcy W. Thompson, A. H. Thorndike, E. L. Thorndike, T. Wingate Todd, and Hutton Webster, and Drs. Charles Singer and Se Boyar have kindly read various chapters in manuscript or proof and offered helpful suggestions. The burden of proof-reading has been generously shared with me by Professors B. P. Bourland, C. D. Lamberton, and Walter Libby, and especially by Professor Harold North Fowler who has corrected proof for practically the entire work. After receiving such expert aid and sound counsel I must assume all the deeper guilt for such faults and indiscretions as the book may display.

Within the limits of a preface, I can't list all the libraries where I've had the privilege to work or those that have kindly sent books—sometimes rare ones—to Cleveland for my use, or all the librarians who have personally assisted my research or graciously responded to my inquiries, or the other scholars who have supported or encouraged the preparation of this work. However, I hope they know that their kindness has not gone unnoticed. In library matters, I've often relied on the good nature of Mr. Frederic C. Erb from the Columbia University Library, Mr. Gordon W. Thayer, who oversees the John G. White collection at the Cleveland Public Library, and Mr. George F. Strong, librarian of Adelbert College, Western Reserve University. I must also mention the interest in my work shown by Dr. R. L. Poole at the Bodleian. For letters that helped facilitate my studies abroad before the war or my passport application right after, I am grateful to the Hon. Philander C. Knox, who was then Secretary of State, to Frederick P. Keppel, then Assistant Secretary of War, to Drs. J. Franklin Jameson and Charles F. Thwing, and to Professors Henry E. Bourne and Henry Crew. Professors C. H. Haskins, L. C. Karpinski, W. G. Leutner, W. A. Locy, D. B. Macdonald, L. J. Paetow, S. B. Platner, E. C. Richardson, James Harvey Robinson, David Eugene Smith, D’Arcy W. Thompson, A. H. Thorndike, E. L. Thorndike, T. Wingate Todd, and Hutton Webster, as well as Drs. Charles Singer and Se Boyar, have kindly read various chapters in manuscript or proof and offered helpful suggestions. The burden of proofreading has been generously shared by Professors B. P. Bourland, C. D. Lamberton, and Walter Libby, and especially by Professor Harold North Fowler, who has corrected proofs for nearly the entire work. After receiving such expert help and sound advice, I must take full responsibility for any faults or indiscretions that the book may contain.


[Pg xiii]

[Pg xiii]

ABBREVIATIONS

Abhandl. Abhandlungen zur Geschichte der Mathematischen Wissenschaften, begründet von M. Cantor, Teubner, Leipzig.
Addit. Additional Manuscripts in the British Museum.
Amplon. Manuscript collection of Amplonius Ratinck at Erfurt.
AN Ante-Nicene Fathers, American Reprint of the Edinburgh edition, in 9 vols., 1913.
AS Acta sanctorum.
Beiträge Beiträge zur Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters, ed. by C. Baeumker, G. v. Hertling, M. Baumgartner, et al., Münster, 1891-.
BL Bodleian Library, Oxford.
BM British Museum, London.
BN Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris.
Borgnet Augustus Borgnet, ed. B. Alberti Magni Opera omnia, Paris, 1890-1899, in 38 vols.
Brewer Fr. Rogeri Bacon Opera quaedam hactenus inedita, ed. J. S. Brewer, London, 1859, in RS, XV.
Bridges The Opus Maius of Roger Bacon, ed. J. H. Bridges, I-II, Oxford, 1897; III, 1900.
CCAG Catalogus codicum astrologorum Graecorum, ed. F. Cumont, W. Kroll, F. Boll, et al., 1898.
CE Catholic Encyclopedia.
CFCB Census of Fifteenth Century Books Owned in America, compiled by a committee of the Bibliographical Society of America, New York, 1919.
CLM Codex Latinus Monacensis (Latin MS at Munich).[Pg xiv]
CSEL Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum, Vienna, 1866-.
CU Cambridge University (used to distinguish MSS in colleges having the same names as those at Oxford).
CUL Cambridge University Library.
DNB Dictionary of National Biography.
EB Encyclopedia Britannica, 11th edition.
EETS Early English Text Society Publications.
EHR English Historical Review.
ERE Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics, ed. J. Hastings et al., 1908-.
HL Histoire Littéraire de la France.
HZ Historische Zeitschrift, Munich, 1859-.
Kühn Medici Graeci, ed. C. J. Kühn, Leipzig, 1829, containing the works of Galen, Dioscorides, etc.
MG Monumenta Germaniae.
MS Manuscript.
MSS Manuscripts.
Muratori Rerum Italicarum scriptores ab anno aerae christianae 500 ad 1500, ed. L. A. Muratori, 1723-1751.
NH C. Plinii Secundi Naturalis Historia (Pliny’s Natural History).
PG Migne, Patrologiae cursus completus, series graeca.
PL Migne, Patrologiae cursus completus, series latina.
PN The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, ed. Wace and Schaff, 1890-1900, 14 vols.
PW Pauly and Wissowa, Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft.
RS “Rolls Series,” or Rerum Britannicarum medii aevi scriptores, 99 works in 244 vols., London, 1858-1896.[Pg xv]
TU Texte und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der altchristlichen Literatur, ed. Gebhardt und Harnack.

DESIGNATION OF MANUSCRIPTS

MANUSCRIPT DESIGNATION

Individual manuscripts are usually briefly designated in the ensuing notes and appendices by a single word indicating the place or collection where the MS is found and the number or shelf-mark of the individual MS. So many of the catalogues of MSS collections which I consulted were undated and without name of author that I have decided to attempt no catalogue of them. The brief designations that I give will be sufficient for anyone who is interested in MSS. In giving Latin titles, Incipits, and the like of MSS I employ quotation marks when I know from personal examination or otherwise that the wording is that of the MS itself, and omit the marks where the Latin seems rather to be that of the description in the manuscript catalogue or other source of information. In the following List of Works Frequently Cited are included a few MSS catalogues whose authors I shall have occasion to refer to by name.

Individual manuscripts are usually referred to in the following notes and appendices by a single word that indicates the place or collection where the manuscript is located and the number or shelf-mark of the individual manuscript. Since many of the catalogues of manuscript collections I looked at were undated and lacked author names, I've decided not to attempt a catalogue of them. The brief labels I provide will be enough for anyone interested in manuscripts. When I give Latin titles, incipits, and similar information about manuscripts, I use quotation marks when I know from personal examination or other sources that the wording is taken directly from the manuscript itself, and I leave off the marks when the Latin appears to be from the description in the manuscript catalogue or another information source. The following List of Works Frequently Cited includes a few manuscript catalogues whose authors I will refer to by name.


[Pg xvii]

[Pg xvii]

LIST OF WORKS FREQUENTLY CITED BY AUTHOR AND DATE OF PUBLICATION OR BRIEF TITLE

For more detailed bibliography on specific topics and for editions or manuscripts of the texts used see the bibliographies, references, and appendices to individual chapters. I also include here some works of general interest or of rather cursory character which I have not had occasion to mention elsewhere; and I usually add, for purposes of differentiation, other works in our field by an author than those works by him which are frequently cited. Of the many histories of the sciences, medicine, and magic that have appeared since the invention of printing I have included but a small selection. Almost without exception they have to be used with the greatest caution.

For a more detailed bibliography on specific topics and for editions or manuscripts of the texts used, check the bibliographies, references, and appendices of the individual chapters. I’m also including here some works of general interest or of a more superficial nature that I haven’t had the chance to mention elsewhere; I usually add, for clarity, other works in our field by the same author that are not the ones commonly cited. Out of the many histories of the sciences, medicine, and magic that have come out since the invention of printing, I’ve included only a small selection. Almost without exception, these should be used with great caution.

Abano, Peter of, Conciliator differentiarum philosophorum et praecipue medicorum, 1472, 1476, 1521, 1526, etc. De venenis, 1472, 1476, 1484, 1490, 1515, 1521, etc.

Abano, Peter of, Conciliator of Different Philosophers and especially Physicians, 1472, 1476, 1521, 1526, etc. On Poisons, 1472, 1476, 1484, 1490, 1515, 1521, etc.

Abel, ed. Orphica, 1885.

Abel, ed. Orphica, 1885.

Abelard, Peter. Opera hactenus seorsim edita, ed. V. Cousin, Paris, 1849-1859, 2 vols.

Abelard, Peter. Works published so far separately, ed. V. Cousin, Paris, 1849-1859, 2 vols.

Ouvrages inédits, ed. V. Cousin, 1835.

Ouvrages inédits, ed. V. Cousin, 1835.

Abt, Die Apologie des Apuleius von Madaura und die antike Zauberei, Giessen, 1908.

Abt, The Apology of Apuleius from Madaura and Ancient Magic, Giessen, 1908.

Achmetis Oneirocriticon, ed. Rigaltius, Paris, 1603.

Achmetis Oneirocriticon, ed. Rigaltius, Paris, 1603.

Adelard of Bath, Quaestiones naturales, 1480, 1485, etc. De eodem et diverso, ed. H. Willner, Münster, 1903.

Adelard of Bath, Natural Questions, 1480, 1485, etc. On the Same and Different, ed. H. Willner, Münster, 1903.

Ahrens, K. Das Buch der Naturgegenstände, 1892.

Ahrens, K. The Book of Natural Objects, 1892.

Zur Geschichte des sogenannten Physiologus, 1885.

Zur Geschichte des sogenannten Physiologus, 1885.

Ailly, Pierre d’, Tractatus de ymagine mundi (and other works), 1480 (?).

Ailly, Pierre d', Tractatus de ymagine mundi (and other works), 1480 (?).

Albertus Magnus, Opera omnia, ed. A. Borgnet, Paris, 1890-1899, 38 vols.

Albertus Magnus, Complete Works, ed. A. Borgnet, Paris, 1890-1899, 38 vols.

[Pg xviii]

[Pg xviii]

Allbutt, Sir T. Clifford. The Historical Relations of Medicine and Surgery to the End of the Sixteenth Century, London, 1905, 122 pp.; an address delivered at the St. Louis Congress in 1904.
The Rise of the Experimental Method in Oxford, London, 1902, 53 pp., from Journal of the Oxford University Junior Scientific Club, May, 1902, being the ninth Robert Boyle Lecture.
Science and Medieval Thought, London, 1901, 116 brief pages. The Harveian Oration delivered before the Royal College of Physicians.

Allbutt, Sir T. Clifford. The Historical Relations of Medicine and Surgery to the End of the Sixteenth Century, London, 1905, 122 pp.; an address delivered at the St. Louis Congress in 1904.
The Rise of the Experimental Method in Oxford, London, 1902, 53 pp., from Journal of the Oxford University Junior Scientific Club, May, 1902, being the ninth Robert Boyle Lecture.
Science and Medieval Thought, London, 1901, 116 brief pages. The Harveian Oration delivered before the Royal College of Physicians.

Allendy, R. F. L’Alchimie et la Médecine; Étude sur les théories hermétiques dans l’histoire de la médecine, Paris, 1912, 155 pp.

Allendy, R. F. The Alchemy and Medicine; Study on Hermetic Theories in the History of Medicine, Paris, 1912, 155 pages.

Anz, W. Zur Frage nach dem Ursprung des Gnostizismus, Leipzig, 1897.

Anz, W. On the Question of the Origin of Gnosticism, Leipzig, 1897.

Aquinas, Thomas. Opera omnia, ed. E. Fretté et P. Maré, Paris, 1871-1880, 34 vols.

Aquinas, Thomas. Complete Works, ed. E. Fretté and P. Maré, Paris, 1871-1880, 34 vols.

Aristotle, De animalibus historia, ed. Dittmeyer, 1907; English translations by R. Creswell, 1848, and D’Arcy W. Thompson, Oxford, 1910.

Aristotle, History of Animals, ed. Dittmeyer, 1907; English translations by R. Creswell, 1848, and D’Arcy W. Thompson, Oxford, 1910.

Pseudo-Aristotle. Lapidarius, Merszborg, 1473.
Secretum secretorum, Latin translation from the Arabic by Philip of Tripoli in many editions; and see Gaster.

Pseudo-Aristotle. Lapidarius, Merszborg, 1473.
Secretum secretorum, a Latin translation from the Arabic by Philip of Tripoli available in multiple editions; also see Gaster.

Arnald of Villanova, Opera, Lyons, 1532.

Arnald of Villanova, Opera, Lyons, 1532.

Artemidori Daldiani et Achmetis Sereimi F. Oneirocritica; Astrampsychi et Nicephori versus etiam Oneirocritici; Nicolai Rigaltii ad Artemidorum Notae, Paris, 1603.

Artemidori Daldiani and Achmetis Sereimi F. Oneirocritica; Astrampsychi and Nicephori verses also Oneirocritici; Nicolai Rigaltii's Notes on Artemidorus, Paris, 1603.

Ashmole, Elias, Theatrum chemicum Britannicum, 1652.

Ashmole, Elias, Theatrum chemicum Britannicum, 1652.

Astruc, Jean. Mémoires pour servir à l’histoire de la Faculté de Médecine de Montpellier, Paris, 1767.

Astruc, Jean. Memoirs to Contribute to the History of the Faculty of Medicine of Montpellier, Paris, 1767.

Auriferae artis quam chemiam vocant antiquissimi auctores, Basel, 1572.

Auriferae artis quam chemiam vocant antiquissimi auctores, Basel, 1572.

Barach et Wrobel, Bibliotheca Philosophorum Mediae Aetatis, 1876-1878, 2 vols.

Barach and Wrobel, Bibliotheca Philosophorum Mediae Aetatis, 1876-1878, 2 volumes.

Bartholomew of England, De proprietatibus rerum, Lingelbach, Heidelberg, 1488, and other editions.

Bartholomew of England, On the Properties of Things, Lingelbach, Heidelberg, 1488, and other editions.

[Pg xix]

[Pg xix]

Bauhin, De plantis a divis sanctisve nomen habentibus, Basel, 1591.

Bauhin, On Plants with Names from Sacred Divinities, Basel, 1591.

Baur, Ludwig, ed. Gundissalinus De divisione philosophiae, Münster, 1903.

Baur, Ludwig, ed. Gundissalinus De divisione philosophiae, Münster, 1903.

Die Philosophischen Werke des Robert Grosseteste, Münster, 1912.

Die Philosophischen Werke des Robert Grosseteste, Münster, 1912.

Beazley, C. R. The Dawn of Modern Geography, London, 1897-1906, 3 vols.

Beazley, C. R. The Dawn of Modern Geography, London, 1897-1906, 3 vols.

Bernard, E. Catalogi librorum manuscriptorum Angliae et Hiberniae in unum collecti (The old catalogue of the Bodleian MSS), Tom. I, Pars 1, Oxford, 1697.

Bernard, E. Catalog of Manuscript Books in England and Ireland Collected Together (The old catalogue of the Bodleian MSS), Volume I, Part 1, Oxford, 1697.

Berthelot, P. E. M. Archéologie et histoire des sciences avec publication nouvelle du papyrus grec chimique de Leyde et impression originale du Liber de septuaginta de Geber, Paris, 1906.
Collection des anciens alchimistes grecs, 1887-1888, 3 vols.
Introduction à l’étude de la chimie des anciens et du moyen âge, 1889.
La chimie au moyen âge, 1893, 3 vols.
Les origines de l’alchimie, 1885.
Sur les voyages de Galien et de Zosime dans l’Archipel et en Asie, et sur la matière médicale dans l’antiquité, in Journal des Savants, 1895, pp. 382-7.

Berthelot, P. E. M. Archaeology and History of Science with a new publication of the Greek chemical papyrus from Leyden and the original print of the Liber de septuaginta by Geber, Paris, 1906.
Collection of Ancient Greek Alchemists, 1887-1888, 3 vols.
Introduction to the Study of Chemistry of the Ancients and the Middle Ages, 1889.
Chemistry in the Middle Ages, 1893, 3 vols.
The Origins of Alchemy, 1885.
On the Travels of Galen and Zosimos in the Archipelago and Asia, and on Medicinal Substances in Antiquity, in Journal des Savants, 1895, pp. 382-7.

Bezold, F. von, Astrologische Geschichtsconstruction im Mittelalter, in Deutsche Zeitschrift für Geschichtswissenschaft, VIII (1892) 29ff.

Bezold, F. von, Astrological History Construction in the Middle Ages, in German Journal of Historical Science, VIII (1892) 29ff.

Bibliotheca Chemica. See Borel and Manget.

Bibliotheca Chemica. See Borel and Manget.

Björnbo, A. A. und Vogl, S. Alkindi, Tideus, und Pseudo-Euklid; drei optische Werke, Leipzig, 1911.

Björnbo, A. A. and Vogl, S. Alkindi, Tideus, and Pseudo-Euclid; three optical works, Leipzig, 1911.

Black, W. H. Catalogue of the Ashmolean Manuscripts, Oxford, 1845.

Black, W. H. Catalog of the Ashmolean Manuscripts, Oxford, 1845.

Boffito, P. G. Il Commento di Cecco d’Ascoli all’Alcabizzo, Florence, 1905.
Il De principiis astrologiae di Cecco d’Ascoli, in Giornale Storico della Letteratura Italiana, Suppl. 6, Turin, 1903.
[Pg xx] Perchè fu condannato al fuoco l’astrologo Cecco d’Ascoli, in Studi e Documenti di Storia e Diritto, Publicazione periodica dell’accademia de conferenza Storico-Giuridiche, Rome, XX (1899).

Boffito, P. G. The Commentary of Cecco d’Ascoli on the Alcabizzo, Florence, 1905.
The Principles of Astrology by Cecco d’Ascoli, in Historical Journal of Italian Literature, Suppl. 6, Turin, 1903.
[Pg xx] Why the astrologer Cecco d’Ascoli was condemned to be burned, in Studies and Documents of History and Law, Periodical Publication of the Historical-Juridical Conference Academy, Rome, XX (1899).

Boll, Franz. Die Erforschung der antiken Astrologie, in Neue Jahrb. f. d. klass. Altert., XI (1908) 103-26.
Eine arabisch-byzantische Quelle des Dialogs Hermippus, in Sitzb. Heidelberg Akad., Philos. Hist. Classe (1912) No. 18, 28 pp.
Sphaera, Leipzig, 1903.
Studien über Claudius Ptolemaeus, in Jahrb. f. klass. Philol., Suppl. Bd. XXI.
Zur Ueberlieferungsgeschichte d. griech. Astrologie u. Astronomie, in Münch. Akad. Sitzb., 1899.

Boll, Franz. The Study of Ancient Astrology, in New Journal for Classical Antiquity, XI (1908) 103-26.
An Arabic-Byzantine Source of the Dialogues of Hermippus, in Proceedings of the Heidelberg Academy, Philosophy and History Class (1912) No. 18, 28 pages.
Sphaera, Leipzig, 1903.
Studies on Claudius Ptolemy, in Journal for Classical Philology, Supplement Volume XXI.
On the History of Transmission of Greek Astrology and Astronomy, in Munich Academy Proceedings, 1899.

Boll und Bezold, Sternglauben, Leipzig, 1918; I have not seen.

Boll and Bezold, Star Beliefs, Leipzig, 1918; I have not seen.

Bonatti, Guido. Liber astronomicus, Ratdolt, Augsburg, 1491.

Bonatti, Guido. Astronomical Book, Ratdolt, Augsburg, 1491.

Boncompagni, B. Della vita e delle Opere di Gherardo Cremonese traduttore del secolo duodecimo e di Gherardo da Sabbionetta astronomo del secolo decimoterzo, Rome, 1851.
Della vita e delle opere di Guido Bonatti astrologo ed astronomo del secolo decimoterzo, Rome, 1851.
Estratte dal Giornale Arcadico, Tomo CXXIII-CXXIV. Della vita e delle opere di Leonardo Pisano, Rome, 1852.
Intorno ad alcune opere di Leonardo Pisano, Rome, 1854.

Boncompagni, B. On the life and works of Gherardo Cremonese, translator of the 12th century, and Gherardo from Sabbionetta, astronomer of the 13th century, Rome, 1851.
On the life and works of Guido Bonatti, astrologer and astronomer of the 13th century, Rome, 1851.
Extracted from the Arcadian Journal, Volume CXXIII-CXXIV. On the life and works of Leonardo Pisano, Rome, 1852.
About some works of Leonardo Pisano, Rome, 1854.

Borel, P. Bibliotheca Chimica seu catalogus librorum philosophicorum hermeticorum usque ad annum 1653, Paris, 1654.

Borel, P. Bibliotheca Chimica or Catalog of Philosophical Hermetic Books up to the Year 1653, Paris, 1654.

Bostock, J. and Riley, H. T. The Natural History of Pliny, translated with copious notes, London, 1855; reprinted 1887.

Bostock, J. and Riley, H. T. The Natural History of Pliny, translated with extensive notes, London, 1855; reprinted 1887.

Bouché-Leclercq, A. L’astrologie dans le monde romain, in Revue Historique, vol. 65 (1897) 241-99.
[Pg xxi] L’astrologie grecque, Paris, 1899, 658 pp.
Histoire de la divination dans l’antiquité, 1879-1882, 4 vols.

Bouché-Leclercq, A. Greek Astrology, in Historical Review, vol. 65 (1897) 241-99.
[Pg xxi] Greek Astrology, Paris, 1899, 658 pp.
History of Divination in Antiquity, 1879-1882, 4 vols.

Breasted, J. H. Development of Religion and Thought in Ancient Egypt, New York, 1912.

Breasted, J. H. Development of Religion and Thought in Ancient Egypt, New York, 1912.

A History of Egypt, 1905; second ed., 1909.

A History of Egypt, 1905; 2nd ed., 1909.

Brehaut, E. An Encyclopedist of the Dark Ages; Isidore of Seville, in Columbia University Studies in History, etc., vol. 48 (1912) 1-274.

Brehaut, E. An Encyclopedist of the Dark Ages; Isidore of Seville, in Columbia University Studies in History, etc., vol. 48 (1912) 1-274.

Brewer, J. S. Monumenta Franciscana (RS IV, 1), London, 1858.

Brewer, J. S. **Monumenta Franciscana** (RS IV, 1), London, 1858.

Brown, J. Wood. An inquiry into the life and legend of Michael Scot, Edinburgh, 1897.

Brown, J. Wood. A study of the life and legend of Michael Scot, Edinburgh, 1897.

Browne, Edward G. Arabian Medicine (the Fitzpatrick Lectures of 1919 and 1920), Cambridge University Press, 1921.

Browne, Edward G. Arabian Medicine (the Fitzpatrick Lectures of 1919 and 1920), Cambridge University Press, 1921.

Browne, Sir Thomas. Pseudodoxia Epidemica, 1650.

Browne, Sir Thomas. Pseudodoxia Epidemica, 1650.

Bubnov, N. ed. Gerberti opera mathematica, Berlin, 1899.

Bubnov, N. ed. Gerberti mathematical works, Berlin, 1899.

Budge, E. A. W. Egyptian Magic, London, 1899.
Ethiopic Histories of Alexander by the Pseudo-Callisthenes and other writers, Cambridge University Press, 1896.
Syriac Version of Pseudo-Callisthenes, Cambridge, 1889.
Syrian Anatomy, Pathology, and Therapeutics, London, 1913, 2 vols.

Budge, E. A. W. Egyptian Magic, London, 1899.
Ethiopic Histories of Alexander by the Pseudo-Callisthenes and other authors, Cambridge University Press, 1896.
Syriac Version of Pseudo-Callisthenes, Cambridge, 1889.
Syrian Anatomy, Pathology, and Therapeutics, London, 1913, 2 vols.

Bunbury, E. H. A History of Ancient Geography, London, 1879, 2 vols.

Bunbury, E. H. A History of Ancient Geography, London, 1879, 2 volumes.

Cahier et Martin, Mélanges d’archéologie, d’histoire et de littérature, Paris, 1847-1856, 4 folio vols.

Cahier and Martin, Collections of Archaeology, History, and Literature, Paris, 1847-1856, 4 folio volumes.

Cajori, F. History of Mathematics; second edition, revised and enlarged, 1919.

Cajori, F. History of Mathematics; 2nd edition, revised and expanded, 1919.

Cantor, M. Vorlesungen über Geschichte der Mathematik, 3rd edition, Leipzig, 1899-1908, 4 vols. Reprint of vol. II in 1913.

Cantor, M. Lectures on the History of Mathematics, 3rd edition, Leipzig, 1899-1908, 4 vols. Reprint of vol. II in 1913.

Carini, S. I. Sulle Scienze Occulte nel Medio Evo, Palermo, 1872; I have not seen.

Carini, S. I. On Occult Sciences in the Middle Ages, Palermo, 1872; I have not seen.

[Pg xxii]

[Pg xxii]

Cauzons, Th. de. La magie et la sorcellerie en France, 1910, 4 vols.; largely compiled from secondary sources.

Cauzons, Th. de. Magic and Witchcraft in France, 1910, 4 vols.; mainly put together from secondary sources.

Charles, E. Roger Bacon: sa vie, ses ouvrages, ses doctrines, Bordeaux, 1861.

Charles, E. Roger Bacon: his life, his works, his doctrines, Bordeaux, 1861.

Charles, R. H. The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament, English translation with introductions and critical and explanatory notes in conjunction with many scholars, Oxford, 1913, 2 large vols.
Ascension of Isaiah, 1900, and reprinted in 1917.
The Book of Enoch, Oxford, 1893; translated anew, 1912.

Charles, R. H. The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament, English translation with introductions and critical and explanatory notes by various scholars, Oxford, 1913, 2 large volumes.
Ascension of Isaiah, 1900, reprinted in 1917.
The Book of Enoch, Oxford, 1893; newly translated in 1912.

Charles, R. H. and Morfill, W. R. The Book of the Secrets of Enoch, Oxford, 1896.

Charles, R. H. and Morfill, W. R. The Book of the Secrets of Enoch, Oxford, 1896.

Charterius, Renatus ed. Galeni opera, Paris, 1679, 13 vols.

Charterius, Renatus ed. Galeni opera, Paris, 1679, 13 vols.

Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis, see Denifle et Chatelain.

Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis, see Denifle et Chatelain.

Chassang, A. Le merveilleux dans l’antiquité, 1882; I have not seen.

Chassang, A. The Marvelous in Antiquity, 1882; I haven't seen it.

Choulant, Ludwig. Albertus Magnus in seiner Bedeutung für die Naturwissenschaften historisch und bibliographisch dargestellt, in Janus, I (1846) 152ff.
Die Anfänge wissenschaftlicher Naturgeschichte und naturhistorischer Abbildung, Dresden, 1856.
Handbuch der Bücherkunde für die ältere Medicin, 2nd edition, Leipzig, 1841; like the foregoing, slighter than the title leads one to hope.
ed. Macer Floridus de viribus herbarum una cum Walafridi Strabonis, Othonis Cremonensis et Ioannis Folcz carminibus similis argumenti, 1832.

Choulant, Ludwig. Albertus Magnus and His Significance for the Natural Sciences, Historically and Bibliographically Presented, in Janus, I (1846) 152ff.
The Beginnings of Scientific Natural History and Natural Historical Illustration, Dresden, 1856.
Handbook of Bibliography for Early Medicine, 2nd edition, Leipzig, 1841; similar to the previous one, less substantial than the title suggests.
ed. Macer Floridus on the Powers of Herbs along with the Poems of Walfrid Strabo, Otho of Cremona, and John Folcz on a Similar Theme, 1832.

Christ, W. Geschichte der Griechischen Litteratur; see W. Schmid.

Christ, W. History of Greek Literature; see W. Schmid.

Chwolson, D. Die Ssabier und der Ssabismus, Petrograd, 1856, 2 vols.

Chwolson, D. The Sabians and Sabaism, Petrograd, 1856, 2 vols.

Clément-Mullet, J. J. Essai sur la minéralogie arabe, Paris, 1868, in Journal asiatique, Tome XI, Sèrie VI.
Traité des poisons de Maimonide, 1865.

Clément-Mullet, J. J. Essay on Arab Mineralogy, Paris, 1868, in Asian Journal, Volume XI, Series VI.
Treatise on Poisons by Maimonides, 1865.

[Pg xxiii]

[Pg xxiii]

Clerval, Hermann le Dalmate, Paris, 1891, eleven pp.
Les écoles de Chartres au moyen âge, Chartres, 1895.

Clerval, Hermann le Dalmate, Paris, 1891, eleven pp.
The Schools of Chartres in the Middle Ages, Chartres, 1895.

Cockayne, O. Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England, in RS XXXV, London, 1864-1866, 3 vols.
Narratiunculae anglice conscriptae, 1861.

Cockayne, O. Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England, in RS XXXV, London, 1864-1866, 3 vols.
Narratives written in English, 1861.

Congrès Périodique International des Sciences Médicales, 17th Session, London, Section XXIII, History of Medicine, 1913.

Congrès Périodique International des Sciences Médicales, 17th Session, London, Section XXIII, History of Medicine, 1913.

Cousin, V. See Abelard.

Cousin, V. Check out Abelard.

Coxe, H. O. Catalogi Codicum Manuscriptorum Bibliothecae Bodleianae Pars Secunda Codices Latinos et Miscellaneos Laudianos complectens, Oxford, 1858-1885.
Catalogi Codicum Manuscriptorum Bibliothecae Bodleianae Pars Tertia Codices Graecos et Latinos Canonicianos complectens, Oxford, 1854.
Catalogus Codicum Manuscriptorum qui in collegiis aulisque Oxoniensibus hodie adservantur, 1852, 2 vols.

Coxe, H. O. Catalog of Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library Part Two containing Latin and Miscellaneous Manuscripts, Oxford, 1858-1885.
Catalog of Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library Part Three containing Greek and Latin Canonical Manuscripts, Oxford, 1854.
Catalog of Manuscripts currently held in the colleges and halls of Oxford, 1852, 2 vols.

Cumont, F. Astrology and Religion among the Greeks and Romans, 1912, 2 vols. And see CCAG under Abbreviations.

Cumont, F. Astrology and Religion among the Greeks and Romans, 1912, 2 vols. And see CCAG under Abbreviations.

Daremberg, Ch. V. Exposition des connaissances de Galien sur l’anatomie, la physiologie, et la pathologie du système nerveux, Paris, 1841.
Histoire des sciences médicales, Paris, 1870, 2 vols.
La médecine; histoire et doctrines, Paris, 1865.
Notices et extraits des manuscrits médicaux, 1853.

Daremberg, Ch. V. Overview of Galen's Knowledge on the Anatomy, Physiology, and Pathology of the Nervous System, Paris, 1841.
History of Medical Sciences, Paris, 1870, 2 vols.
Medicine; History and Doctrines, Paris, 1865.
Notices and Excerpts from Medical Manuscripts, 1853.

Delambre, J. B. J. Histoire de l’astronomie du moyen âge, Paris, 1819.

Delambre, J. B. J. History of Astronomy in the Middle Ages, Paris, 1819.

Delisle, L. Inventaire des manuscrits latins conservés à la bibliothèque nationale sous les numéros 8823-18613 et faisant suite à la série dont la catalogue a été publié en 1744, Paris, 1863-1871.

Delisle, L. Inventory of Latin manuscripts preserved at the national library under numbers 8823-18613, following the series whose catalog was published in 1744, Paris, 1863-1871.

Denifle, H. Quellen zur Gelehrtengeschichte des Predigerordens im 13 und 14 Jahrhundert, in Archiv f. Lit. u. Kirchengesch. d. Mittelalters, Berlin, II (1886) 165-248.

Denifle, H. Sources on the History of Scholars in the Order of Preachers in the 13th and 14th Century, in Archive for Literature and Church History of the Middle Ages, Berlin, II (1886) 165-248.

[Pg xxiv]

[Pg 24]

Denifle et Chatelain, Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis, Paris, 1889-1891, 2 vols.

Denifle and Chatelain, Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis, Paris, 1889-1891, 2 vols.

Denis, F. Le monde enchanté, cosmographie et histoire naturelles fantastiques du moyen âge, Paris, 1843. A curious little volume with a bibliography of works now forgotten.

Denis, F. The Enchanted World, Cosmography and Fantastic Natural History of the Middle Ages, Paris, 1843. A fascinating little book with a bibliography of works that are now forgotten.

Doutté, E. Magie et religion dans l’Afrique du Nord, Alger, 1909.

Doutté, E. Magic and Religion in North Africa, Algiers, 1909.

Duhem, Pierre. Le Système du Monde: Histoire des Doctrines Cosmologiques de Platon à Copernic, 5 vols., Paris, 1913-1917.

Duhem, Pierre. The Universe System: A History of Cosmological Doctrines from Plato to Copernicus, 5 vols., Paris, 1913-1917.

Du Prel, C. Die Magie als Naturwissenschaft, 1899, 2 vols. Occult speculation, not historical treatment; the author seems to have no direct acquaintance with sources earlier than Agrippa in the sixteenth century.

Du Prel, C. The Magic as a Natural Science, 1899, 2 vols. Occult speculation, not a historical treatment; the author seems to have no direct knowledge of sources prior to Agrippa in the sixteenth century.

Easter, D. B. A Study of the Magic Elements in the romans d’aventure and the romans bretons, Johns Hopkins, 1906.

Easter, D. B. A Study of the Magic Elements in the adventure novels and the Breton novels, Johns Hopkins, 1906.

Ennemoser, J. History of Magic, London, 1854.

Ennemoser, J. History of Magic, London, 1854.

Enoch, Book of. See Charles.

Enoch, Book of. See Charles.

Epiphanius. Opera ed. G. Dindorf, Leipzig, 1859-1862, 5 vols.

Epiphanius. Works edited by G. Dindorf, Leipzig, 1859-1862, 5 volumes.

Evans, H. R. The Old and New Magic, Chicago, 1906.

Evans, H. R. The Old and New Magic, Chicago, 1906.

Fabricius, Bibliotheca Graeca, 1711.
Bibliotheca Latina Mediae et Infimae Aetatis, 1734-1746, 6 vols.
Codex Pseudepigraphus Veteris Testamenti, 1713-1733.

Fabricius, Bibliotheca Graeca, 1711.
Bibliotheca Latina Mediae et Infimae Aetatis, 1734-1746, 6 vols.
Codex Pseudepigraphus Veteris Testamenti, 1713-1733.

Farnell, L. R. Greece and Babylon; a comparative sketch of Mesopotamian, Anatolian, and Hellenic Religions, Edinburgh, 1911.
The Higher Aspects of Greek Religion, New York, 1912.

Farnell, L. R. Greece and Babylon; a comparative sketch of Mesopotamian, Anatolian, and Hellenic Religions, Edinburgh, 1911.
The Higher Aspects of Greek Religion, New York, 1912.

Ferckel, C. Die Gynäkologie des Thomas von Brabants, ausgewählte Kapitel aus Buch I de naturis rerum beendet um 1240, Munich, 1912, in G. Klein, Alte Meister d. Medizin u. Naturkunde.

Ferckel, C. The Gynecology of Thomas of Brabant, selected chapters from Book I de naturis rerum completed around 1240, Munich, 1912, in G. Klein, Old Masters of Medicine and Natural Science.

Ferguson, John. Bibliotheca Chemica, a catalogue of al[Pg xxv]chemical, chemical and pharmaceutical books in the collection of the late James Young, Glasgow, 1906.

Ferguson, John. Bibliotheca Chemica, a catalog of al[Pg xxv]chemical, chemical, and pharmaceutical books in the collection of the late James Young, Glasgow, 1906.

Fort, G. F. Medical Economy; a contribution to the history of European morals from the Roman Empire to 1400, New York, 1883.

Fort, G. F. Medical Economy; a contribution to the history of European morals from the Roman Empire to 1400, New York, 1883.

Fossi, F. Catalogus codicum saeculo XV impressorum qui in publica Bibliotheca Magliabechiana Florentiae adservantur, 1793-1795.

Fossi, F. Catalog of 15th Century Printed Books Held in the Public Library of Magliabechiana, Florence, 1793-1795.

Frazer, Sir J. G. Folk-Lore in the Old Testament, 3 vols., 1918.
Golden Bough, edition of 1894, 2 vols.
Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, 2 vols., 1911.
Some Popular Superstitions of the Ancients, in Folk-Lore, 1890.
Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild, 2 vols., 1912.

Frazer, Sir J. G. Folk-Lore in the Old Testament, 3 vols., 1918.
Golden Bough, 1894 edition, 2 vols.
Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings, 2 vols., 1911.
Some Popular Superstitions of the Ancients, in Folk-Lore, 1890.
Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild, 2 vols., 1912.

Garinet. Histoire de la Magie en France.

Garinet. History of Magic in France.

Garrison, F. H. An Introduction to the History of Medicine, 2nd edition, Philadelphia, 1917.

Garrison, F. H. An Introduction to the History of Medicine, 2nd edition, Philadelphia, 1917.

Gaster, M. A Hebrew Version of the Secretum secretorum, published for the first time, in Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, London, 1907, pp. 879-913; 1908, pp. 111-62, 1065-84.

Gaster, M. A Hebrew Version of the Secretum secretorum, published for the first time in the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, London, 1907, pp. 879-913; 1908, pp. 111-62, 1065-84.

Gerland, E. Geschichte der Physik von den ältesten Zeiten bis zum Ausgange des achtzehnten Jahrhunderts, in Königl. Akad. d. Wiss., XXIV (1913) Munich and Berlin.

Gerland, E. History of Physics from Ancient Times to the End of the Eighteenth Century, in Royal Academy of Sciences, XXIV (1913) Munich and Berlin.

Gerland und Traumüller, Geschichte der Physikalischen Experimentierkunst, Leipzig, 1899.

Gerland and Traumüller, History of the Art of Physical Experimentation, Leipzig, 1899.

Giacosa, P. Magistri Salernitani nondum editi, Turin, 1901.

Giacosa, P. Unpublished Works of Salerno Masters, Turin, 1901.

Gilbert of England, Compendium medicinae, Lyons, 1510.

Gilbert of England, Compendium of Medicine, Lyons, 1510.

Gloria, Andrea. Monumenti della Università di Padova, 1222-1318, in Memorie del Reale Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti, XXII (1884).
Monumenti della Università di Padova, 1318-1405, 1888.

Gloria, Andrea. Monuments of the University of Padua, 1222-1318, in Memories of the Royal Institute of Venetian Sciences, Letters, and Arts, XXII (1884).
Monuments of the University of Padua, 1318-1405, 1888.

Gordon, Bernard. Lilium medicinae, Venice, 1496, etc.
Practica (and other treatises), 1521.

Gordon, Bernard. Lilium medicinae, Venice, 1496, etc.
Practica (and other writings), 1521.

[Pg xxvi]

[Pg xxvi]

Grabmann, Martin. Forschungen über die lateinischen Aristoteles-Uebersetzungen des XIII Jahrhunderts, Münster, 1916.
Die Geschichte der Scholastischen Methode, Freiburg, 1909-1911, 2 vols.

Grabmann, Martin. Research on the Latin Aristotelian Translations of the 13th Century, Münster, 1916.
The History of the Scholastic Method, Freiburg, 1909-1911, 2 vols.

Graesse, J. G. T. Bibliotheca magica, 1843; of little service to me.

Graesse, J. G. T. Bibliotheca magica, 1843; not very useful to me.

Grenfell, B. P. The Present Position of Papyrology, in Bulletin of John Rylands Library, Manchester, VI (1921) 142-62.

Grenfell, B. P. The Current State of Papyrology, in Bulletin of John Rylands Library, Manchester, VI (1921) 142-62.

Haeser, H. Lehrbuch der Geschichte der Medicin und der Volkskrankheiten, Dritte Bearbeitung, 1875-1882.

Haeser, H. Textbook of the History of Medicine and Public Diseases, Third Edition, 1875-1882.

Halle, J. Zur Geschichte der Medizin von Hippokrates bis zum XVIII Jahrhundert, Munich, 1909, 199 pp.; too brief, but suggests interesting topics.

Halle, J. On the History of Medicine from Hippocrates to the 18th Century, Munich, 1909, 199 pp.; it's a bit short, but it brings up some interesting topics.

Halliwell, J. O. Rara Mathematica, 1839.

Halliwell, J. O. Rara Mathematica, 1839.

Hammer-Jensen. Das sogennannte IV Buch der Meteorologie des Aristoteles, in Hermes, L (1915) 113-36.
Ptolemaios und Heron, Ibid., XLVIII (1913), 224ff.

Hammer-Jensen. The so-called Book IV of Meteorology by Aristotle, in Hermes, L (1915) 113-36.
Ptolemy and Heron, Ibid., XLVIII (1913), 224ff.

Hansen, J. Zauberwahn, Inquisition, und Hexenprozess im Mittelalter, Munich and Leipzig, 1900.

Hansen, J. Magic Delusion, Inquisition, and Witch Trials in the Middle Ages, Munich and Leipzig, 1900.

Haskins, C. H. Adelard of Bath, in EHR XXVI (1911) 491-8; XXVIII (1913), 515-6.
Leo Tuscus, in EHR XXXIII (1918), 492-6.
The “De Arte Venandi cum Avibus” of the Emperor Frederick II, EHR XXXVI (1921) 334-55.
The Reception of Arabic Science in England, EHR XXX (1915), 56-69.
The Greek Element in the Renaissance of the Twelfth Century, in American Historical Review, XXV (1920) 603-15.

Haskins, C. H. Adelard of Bath, in EHR XXVI (1911) 491-8; XXVIII (1913), 515-6.
Leo Tuscus, in EHR XXXIII (1918), 492-6.
The “De Arte Venandi cum Avibus” by Emperor Frederick II, EHR XXXVI (1921) 334-55.
The Impact of Arabic Science in England, EHR XXX (1915), 56-69.
The Greek Influence in the Twelfth Century Renaissance, in American Historical Review, XXV (1920) 603-15.

The Translations of Hugo Sanctelliensis, in Romanic Review, II (1911) 1-15.
Nimrod the Astronomer, Ibid., V (1914) 203-12.

A List of Text-books from the Close of the Twelfth Century, in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, XX (1909) 75-94.

A List of Textbooks from the End of the Twelfth Century, in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, XX (1909) 75-94.

[Pg xxvii]

[Pg xxvii]

Haskins and Lockwood. The Sicilian Translators of the Twelfth Century and the First Latin Versions of Ptolemy’s Almagest, Ibid., XXI (1910), 75-102.

Haskins and Lockwood. The Sicilian Translators of the Twelfth Century and the First Latin Versions of Ptolemy’s Almagest, Ibid., XXI (1910), 75-102.

Hauréau, B. Bernard Délicieux et l’inquisition albigeoise, Paris, 1887.
Histoire de la philosophie scolastique, 1872-1880.
Le Mathematicus de Bernard Silvestris, Paris, 1895.
Les œuvres de Hugues de Saint Victor, essai critique, nouvelle édition, Paris, 1886.
Mélanges poétiques d’Hildebert de Lavardin.
Notices et extraits de quelques mss latins de la bibliothèque nationale, 1890-1893, 6 vols.
Singularités historiques et littéraires, Paris, 1861.

Hauréau, B. Bernard Délicieux and the Albigensian Inquisition, Paris, 1887.
History of Scholastic Philosophy, 1872-1880.
The Mathematicus by Bernard Silvestris, Paris, 1895.
The Works of Hugh of Saint Victor, critical essay, new edition, Paris, 1886.
Poetic Mixes by Hildebert de Lavardin.
Notices and Excerpts from some Latin Manuscripts of the National Library, 1890-1893, 6 vols.
Historical and Literary Singularities, Paris, 1861.

Hearnshaw, F. J. C. Medieval Contributions to Modern Civilization, 1921.

Hearnshaw, F. J. C. Medieval Contributions to Modern Civilization, 1921.

Heilbronner, J. C. Historia Matheseos universae praecipuorum mathematicorum vitas dogmata scripta et manuscripta complexa, Leipzig, 1742.

Heilbronner, J. C. History of Universal Mathematics, focusing on the lives, doctrines, writings, and manuscripts of key mathematicians, Leipzig, 1742.

Heim, R. De rebus magicis Marcelli medici, in Schedae philol. Hermanno Usener oblatae, 1891, pp. 119-37.
Incantamenta magica graeca latina, in Jahrb. f. cl. Philol., 19 suppl. bd., Leipzig, 1893, pp. 463-576.

Heim, R. On the Magical Things of the Physician Marcellus, in Philological Papers presented to Hermann Usener, 1891, pp. 119-37.
Greek and Latin Magical Incantations, in Journal for Classical Philology, 19 supplementary volume, Leipzig, 1893, pp. 463-576.

Heller, A. Geschichte der Physik von Aristoteles bis auf die neueste Zeit, Stuttgart, 1882-1884, 2 vols.

Heller, A. History of Physics from Aristotle to Modern Times, Stuttgart, 1882-1884, 2 vols.

Hendrie, R. Theophili Libri III de diversis artibus, translated by, London, 1847.

Hendrie, R. Theophili Libri III on Various Arts, translated by, London, 1847.

Hengstenberg, E. W. Die Geschichte Bileams und seine Weissagungen, Berlin, 1842.

Hengstenberg, E. W. The History of Balaam and His Prophecies, Berlin, 1842.

Henry, V. La magie dans l’Inde antique, 1904.

Henry, V. Magic in Ancient India, 1904.

Henslow, G. Medical Works of the Fourteenth Century, London, 1899.

Henslow, G. Medical Works of the Fourteenth Century, London, 1899.

Hercher, ed. Aeliani opera, 1864.
ed. Artemidori Oneirocritica, Leipzig, 1864.
ed. Astrampsychi oculorum decades, Berlin, 1863.

Hercher, ed. Aeliani works, 1864.
ed. Artemidori Dream Interpretation, Leipzig, 1864.
ed. Astrampsychus' Ten Books on Vision, Berlin, 1863.

Hertling, G. von, Albertus Magnus; Beiträge zu seiner Würdigung, revised edition with help of Baeumker and Endres, Münster, 1914.

Hertling, G. von, Albertus Magnus; Contributions to His Appreciation, revised edition with assistance from Baeumker and Endres, Münster, 1914.

[Pg xxviii]

[Pg xxviii]

Hubert, H. Magia, in Daremberg-Saglio.

Hubert H. Magic, in Daremberg-Saglio.

Hubert et Mauss, Esquisse d’une Théorie Générale de la Magie, in Année Sociologique, 1902-1903, pp. 1-146.

Hubert and Mauss, Outline of a General Theory of Magic, in Sociological Yearbook, 1902-1903, pp. 1-146.

Husik, I. A History of Medieval Jewish Philosophy, 1916.

Husik, I. A History of Medieval Jewish Philosophy, 1916.

Ishak ibn Sulaiman, Opera, 1515.

Ishak ibn Sulaiman, Opera, 1515.

James, M. R. A Descriptive Catalogue of the McClean Collection of MSS in the Fitzwilliam Museum, 1912.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the MSS in the Fitzwilliam Museum, 1895.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the MSS in the Library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, 1912, 2 vols.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the MSS in the Library of Gonville and Caius College, 1907-1908, 2 vols.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the MSS in the Library of Pembroke College, 1905.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the MSS in the Library of Peterhouse, 1899.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the MSS in the Library of St. John’s College, Cambridge, 1913.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the MSS in the Library of Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, 1895.
The Ancient Libraries of Canterbury and Dover, 1903.
The Western MSS in the Library of Emmanuel College, 1904.
The Western MSS in the Library of Trinity College, Cambridge, 1900-1904, 4 vols.

James, M. R. A Descriptive Catalogue of the McClean Collection of Manuscripts in the Fitzwilliam Museum, 1912.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the Manuscripts in the Fitzwilliam Museum, 1895.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the Manuscripts in the Library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, 1912, 2 volumes.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the Manuscripts in the Library of Gonville and Caius College, 1907-1908, 2 volumes.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the Manuscripts in the Library of Pembroke College, 1905.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the Manuscripts in the Library of Peterhouse, 1899.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the Manuscripts in the Library of St. John’s College, Cambridge, 1913.
A Descriptive Catalogue of the Manuscripts in the Library of Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, 1895.
The Ancient Libraries of Canterbury and Dover, 1903.
The Western Manuscripts in the Library of Emmanuel College, 1904.
The Western Manuscripts in the Library of Trinity College, Cambridge, 1900-1904, 4 volumes.

Janus, Zeitschrift für Geschichte und Literatur der Medizin, 1846-.

Janus, Journal for the History and Literature of Medicine, 1846-.

Jenaer medizin-historische Beiträge, herausg. von T. M. Steineg, 1912-.

Jena Medical Historical Contributions, edited by T. M. Steineg, 1912-.

Joël, D. Der Aberglaube und die Stellung des Judenthums zu demselben, 1881.

Joël, D. Superstition and the Position of Judaism Regarding It, 1881.

John of Salisbury, Metalogicus, in Migne PL vol. 199.
Polycraticus sive de nugis curialium et vestigiis philosophorum, Ibid. and also ed. C. C. I. Webb, Oxford, 1909.

John of Salisbury, Metalogicus, in Migne PL vol. 199.
Polycraticus or On the Trifles of Courtiers and the Traces of Philosophers, Ibid. and also ed. C. C. I. Webb, Oxford, 1909.

[Pg xxix]

[Pg xxix]

Joret, Les plantes dans l’antiquité et au moyen âge, 2 vols., Paris, 1897 and 1904.

Joret, Plants in Antiquity and the Middle Ages, 2 vols., Paris, 1897 and 1904.

Jourdain, A. Recherches critiques sur l’âge et l’origine des traductions latines d’Aristote, Paris, 1819; 2nd edition, 1843.

Jourdain, A. Critical Research on the Age and Origin of the Latin Translations of Aristotle, Paris, 1819; 2nd edition, 1843.

Jourdain, C. Dissertation sur l’état de la philosophie naturelle en occident et principalement en France pendant la première moitié du XIIe siècle, Paris, 1838.
Excursions historiques et philosophiques à travers le moyen âge, Paris, 1888.

Jourdain, C. Dissertation on the State of Natural Philosophy in the West, Especially in France During the First Half of the 12th Century, Paris, 1838.
Historical and Philosophical Excursions Through the Middle Ages, Paris, 1888.

Karpinski, L. C. Hindu Science, in American Mathematical Monthly, XXVI (1919) pp. 298-300.
Robert of Chester’s Latin translation of the Algebra of al-Khowarizmi, with introduction, critical notes, and an English version, New York, 1915.
The “Quadripartitum numerorum” of John of Meurs, in Bibliotheca Mathematica, III Folge, XIII Bd. (1913) 99-114.

Karpinski, L. C. Hindu Science, in American Mathematical Monthly, XXVI (1919) pp. 298-300.
Robert of Chester's Latin translation of the Algebra of al-Khowarizmi, with introduction, critical notes, and an English version, New York, 1915.
The "Quadripartitum numerorum" of John of Meurs, in Bibliotheca Mathematica, III Folge, XIII Bd. (1913) 99-114.

Kaufmann, A. Thomas von Chantimpré, Cologne, 1899.

Kaufmann, A. Thomas von Chantimpré, Cologne, 1899.

King, C. W. The Gnostics and their Remains, ancient and medieval, London, 1887.
The Natural History, ancient and modern, of Precious Stones and Gems, London, 1855.

King, C. W. The Gnostics and their Remains, ancient and medieval, London, 1887.
The Natural History, ancient and modern, of Precious Stones and Gems, London, 1855.

Kopp, H. Beiträge zur Geschichte der Chemie, Brunswick, 1869-1875.
Ueber den Zustand der Naturwissenschaften im Mittelalter, 1869.

Kopp, H. Contributions to the History of Chemistry, Brunswick, 1869-1875.
On the State of Natural Sciences in the Middle Ages, 1869.

Kretschmer, C. Die physische Erdkunde im christlichen Mittelalter, 1889.

Kretschmer, C. The Physical Geography in the Christian Middle Ages, 1889.

Krumbacher, K. Geschichte der byzantinischen Literatur, 527-1453 A. D., 2nd edition, Munich, 1897.

Krumbacher, K. History of Byzantine Literature, 527-1453 A.D., 2nd edition, Munich, 1897.

Kunz, G. F. The Curious Lore of Precious Stones, Philadelphia, 1913.
Magic of Jewels and Charms, Philadelphia, 1915.

Kunz, G. F. The Curious Lore of Precious Stones, Philadelphia, 1913.
Magic of Jewels and Charms, Philadelphia, 1915.

Langlois, Ch. V. La connaissance de la nature et du monde au moyen âge d’après quelques écrits français à l’usage des laïcs, Paris, 1911.
[Pg xxx] Maître Bernard, in Bibl. de l’École des Chartes, LIV (1893) 225-50, 795.

Langlois, Ch. V. Knowledge of Nature and the World in the Middle Ages Based on Some French Writings for Laypeople, Paris, 1911.
[Pg xxx] Master Bernard, in Bibl. de l’École des Chartes, LIV (1893) 225-50, 795.

Lauchert, F. Geschichte des Physiologus, Strassburg, 1889.

Lauchert, F. History of the Physiologus, Strasbourg, 1889.

Lea, H. C. A History of the Inquisition of the Middle Ages, New York, 1883, 3 vols.

Lea, H. C. A History of the Inquisition of the Middle Ages, New York, 1883, 3 vols.

Le Brun. Histoire critique des pratiques superstitieuses, Amsterdam, 1733.

Le Brun. Critical History of Superstitious Practices, Amsterdam, 1733.

Lecky, W. E. H. History of European Morals from Augustus to Charlemagne, 1870, 2 vols.
History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit of Rationalism in Europe, revised edition, London, 1870.

Lecky, W. E. H. History of European Morals from Augustus to Charlemagne, 1870, 2 vols.
History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit of Rationalism in Europe, revised edition, London, 1870.

Lehmann, A. Aberglaube und Zauberei von den ältesten Zeiten an bis in die Gegenwart; deutsche autorisierte Uebersetzung von I. Petersen, Stuttgart, 1908. The historical treatment is scanty.

Lehmann, A. Superstition and Sorcery from Ancient Times to the Present; German authorized translation by I. Petersen, Stuttgart, 1908. The historical treatment is minimal.

Leminne, J. Les quatre éléments, in Mémoires couronnés par l’Académie Royale de Belgique, vol. 65, Brussels, 1903.

Leminne, J. The Four Elements, in Crowned Memoirs by the Royal Academy of Belgium, vol. 65, Brussels, 1903.

Lévy, L. G. Maimonide, 1911.

Lévy, L. G. Maimonides, 1911.

Liechty, R. de. Albert le Grand et saint Thomas d’Aquin, ou la science au moyen âge, Paris, 1880.

Liechty, R. de. Albert the Great and Saint Thomas Aquinas, or Science in the Middle Ages, Paris, 1880.

Lippmann, E. O. von. Entstehung und Ausbreitung der Alchemie, 1919.

Lippmann, E. O. von. The Origin and Spread of Alchemy, 1919.

Little, A. G. Initia operum Latinorum quae saeculis XIII, XIV, XV, attribuuntur, Manchester, 1904.
ed. Roger Bacon Essays, contributed by various writers on the occasion of the commemoration of the seventh centenary of his birth, Oxford, 1914.
ed. Part of the Opus Tertium of Roger Bacon, including a Fragment now printed for the first time, Aberdeen, 1912, in British Society of Franciscan Studies, IV.

Little, A. G. Initial works in Latin attributed to the 13th, 14th, and 15th centuries, Manchester, 1904.
edited by Roger Bacon Essays, contributed by various writers to commemorate the seventh centenary of his birth, Oxford, 1914.
edited by Part of the Opus Tertium of Roger Bacon, including a Fragment now published for the first time, Aberdeen, 1912, in British Society of Franciscan Studies, IV.

Loisy. Magie, science et religion, in À propos d’histoire des religions, 1911, p. 166ff.

Loisy. Magic, science, and religion, in Regarding the History of Religions, 1911, p. 166ff.

Macdonald, D. B. The Religious Attitude and Life in Islam, Chicago, 1909.

Macdonald, D. B. The Religious Attitude and Life in Islam, Chicago, 1909.

Macray, Catalogus codicum MSS Bibliothecae Bodleianae, [Pg xxxi] V, Codices Rawlinsonianae, 1862-1900, 5 fascs.; IX, Codices Digbeianae, 1883.

Macray, Catalogue of Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library, [Pg xxxi] V, Rawlinson Manuscripts, 1862-1900, 5 volumes; IX, Digby Manuscripts, 1883.

Mai, A. Classici Auctores, 1835.

Mai, A. Classic Authors, 1835.

Mâle, E. Religious Art in France in the Thirteenth Century, translated from the third edition by Dora Nussey, 1913.

Mâle, E. Religious Art in France in the 13th Century, translated from the third edition by Dora Nussey, 1913.

Mandonnet, P. Des écrits authentiques de S. Thomas d’Aquin, Fribourg, 1910.
Roger Bacon et la composition des trois Opus, in Revue Néo-Scolastique, Louvain, 1913, pp. 52-68, 164-80.
Roger Bacon et la Speculum astronomiae, Ibid., XVII (1910) 313-35.
Siger de Brabant et l’averroïsme latin au XIIIme siècle, Fribourg, 1899; 2nd edition, Louvain, 1908-1910, 2 vols.

Mandonnet, P. Authentic Writings of St. Thomas Aquinas, Fribourg, 1910.
Roger Bacon and the Composition of the Three Opus, in Neo-Scholastic Review, Louvain, 1913, pp. 52-68, 164-80.
Roger Bacon and the Speculum Astronomiae, Ibid., XVII (1910) 313-35.
Siger of Brabant and Latin Averroism in the 13th Century, Fribourg, 1899; 2nd edition, Louvain, 1908-1910, 2 vols.

Manget, J. J. Bibliotheca Chemica Curiosa, Geneva, 1702, 2 vols.

Manget, J. J. *Bibliotheca Chemica Curiosa*, Geneva, 1702, 2 vols.

Manitius, Max. Geschichte der lateinischen Literatur des Mittelalters, Erster Teil, Von Justinian bis zur Mitte des zehnten Jahrhunderts, Munich, 1911, in Müller’s Handbuch d. kl. Alt. Wiss. IX, 2, i.

Manitius, Max. History of Latin Literature in the Middle Ages, Volume One, From Justinian to the Middle of the Tenth Century, Munich, 1911, in Müller’s Handbook of Classical Ancient Scholarship IX, 2, i.

Mann, M. F. Der Bestiaire Divin des Guillaume le Clerc, 1888.
Der Physiologus des Philipp von Thaon und seine Quellen, 1884.

Mann, M. F. The Divine Bestiary of Guillaume le Clerc, 1888.
The Physiologus of Philip of Thaon and Its Sources, 1884.

Mappae clavicula, ed. M. A. Way in Archaeologia, London, XXXII (1847) 183-244.

Mappae clavicula, ed. M. A. Way in Archaeologia, London, XXXII (1847) 183-244.

Maury, Alfred. La magie et l’astrologie dans l’antiquité et au moyen âge, 1877. Brief as it is, perhaps the best general history of magic.

Maury, Alfred. Magic and Astrology in Antiquity and the Middle Ages, 1877. Short as it is, this might be the best overall history of magic.

Mead, G. R. S. Apollonius of Tyana; a critical study of the only existing record of his life, 1901.
Echoes from the Gnosis, 1906, eleven vols.
Fragments of a Faith Forgotten, 1900.
Pistis-Sophia, now for the first time Englished, 1896.
Plotinus, Select Works of, with preface and bibliography, 1909.
Simon Magus, 1892.
[Pg xxxii] Thrice Great Hermes, London, 1906, 3 vols.

Mead, G. R. S. Apollonius of Tyana; a critical study of the only existing record of his life, 1901.
Echoes from the Gnosis, 1906, eleven volumes.
Fragments of a Faith Forgotten, 1900.
Pistis-Sophia, now for the first time translated into English, 1896.
Plotinus, Selected Works of, with preface and bibliography, 1909.
Simon Magus, 1892.
[Pg xxxii] Thrice Great Hermes, London, 1906, three volumes.

Medicae artis principes post Hippocratem et Galenum Graeci Latinitate donati, ed. Stephanus, 1567.

Medicae artis principais after Hippocrates and Galen, gifted with Latin, ed. Stephanus, 1567.

Medici antiqui omnes qui latinis litteris ... Aldus, Venice, 1547.

Medici antiqui omnes qui latinis litteris ... Aldus, Venice, 1547.

Mély, F. de et Ruelle, C. E. Les lapidaires de l’antiquité et du moyen âge, Paris, 1896. Mély has published many other works on gems and lapidaries of the past.

Mély, F. de and Ruelle, C. E. The Lapidaries of Antiquity and the Middle Ages, Paris, 1896. Mély has published many other works on gems and lapidaries from the past.

Merrifield, Mrs. M. P. Ancient Practice of Painting, or Original Treatises dating from the XIIth to XVIIIth centuries on the arts of painting, London, 1849.

Merrifield, Mrs. M. P. Ancient Practice of Painting, or Original Treatises dating from the 12th to 18th centuries on the arts of painting, London, 1849.

Meyer, E. Albertus Magnus, ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Botanik im XIII Jahrhundert, in Linnaea, X (1836) 641-741, XI (1837) 545.

Meyer, E. Albertus Magnus, a contribution to the history of botany in the 13th century, in Linnaea, X (1836) 641-741, XI (1837) 545.

Meyer, Karl. Der Aberglaube des Mittelalters und der nächstfolgenden Jahrhunderte, Basel, 1856.

Meyer, Karl. The Superstitions of the Middle Ages and the Following Centuries, Basel, 1856.

Migne, Dictionnaire des Apocryphes, Paris, 1856.
See also under Abbreviations.

Migne, Dictionary of Apocrypha, Paris, 1856.
See also under Abbreviations.

Millot-Carpentier, La Médecine au XIIIe siècle, in Annales Internationales d’Histoire, Congrès de Paris, 1900, 5e Section, Histoire des Sciences, pp. 171-96; a chapter from a history of medicine which the author’s death unfortunately kept him from completing.

Millot-Carpentier, Medicine in the 13th Century, in International Annals of History, Paris Congress, 1900, 5th Section, History of Sciences, pp. 171-96; a chapter from a history of medicine that the author's death sadly prevented him from finishing.

Milward, E. A Letter to the Honourable Sir Hans Sloane, Bart., in vindication of the character of those Greek writers in physick that flourished after Galen ... particularly that of Alexander Trallian, 1733; reprinted as Trallianus Reviviscens, 1734.

Milward, E. A Letter to the Honorable Sir Hans Sloane, Bart., defending the reputation of those Greek writers in medicine who thrived after Galen ... especially that of Alexander Trallian, 1733; reprinted as Trallianus Reviviscens, 1734.

Mommsen, Th. ed. C. Iulii Solini Collectanea rerum memorabilium, 1895.

Mommsen, Th. ed. C. Iulii Solini Collectanea rerum memorabilium, 1895.

Moore, Sir Norman, History of the Study of Medicine in the British Isles, 1908.
The History of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, London, 1918, 2 vols.
The Physician in English History, 1913. A popular lecture.

Moore, Sir Norman, History of the Study of Medicine in the British Isles, 1908.
The History of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, London, 1918, 2 vols.
The Physician in English History, 1913. A popular lecture.

Muratori, L. A. Antiquitates Italicae medii aevi, Milan,
[Pg xxxiii] 1738-1742, 6 vols. Edition of 1778 in more vols. Index, Turin, 1885.
See also under Abbreviations.

Muratori, L. A. Antiquitates Italicae medii aevi, Milan,
[Pg xxxiii] 1738-1742, 6 vols. Edition of 1778 in more vols. Index, Turin, 1885.
See also under Abbreviations.

Naudé, Gabriel. Apologie pour tous les grands personnages qui ont esté faussement soupçonnez de Magie, Paris, 1625.

Naudé, Gabriel. Apology for all the great figures who have been falsely suspected of Magic, Paris, 1625.

Neckam, Alexander. De naturis rerum, ed. T. Wright, in RS vol. 34, 1863.

Neckam, Alexander. *On the Natures of Things*, ed. T. Wright, in RS vol. 34, 1863.

Omont, H. Nouvelles acquisitions du départment des manuscrits pendant les années 1891-1910, Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris.

Omont, H. New acquisitions of the manuscript department during the years 1891-1910, National Library, Paris.

Orr, M. A. (Mrs. John Evershed) Dante and the Early Astronomers, London, 1913.

Orr, M. A. (Mrs. John Evershed) Dante and the Early Astronomers, London, 1913.

Paetow, L. J. Guide to the Study of Medieval History, University of California Press, 1917.

Paetow, L. J. Guide to the Study of Medieval History, University of California Press, 1917.

Pagel, J. L. Die Concordanciae des Joannes de Sancto Amando, 1894.
Geschichte der Medizin im Mittelalter, in Puschmann’s Handbuch der Geschichte der Medizin, ed. Neuburger u. Pagel, I (1902) 622-752.
Neue litterarische Beiträge zur mittelalterlichen Medicin, Berlin, 1896.

Pagel, J. L. The Concordances of Johannes de Sancto Amando, 1894.
History of Medicine in the Middle Ages, in Puschmann’s Handbook of the History of Medicine, ed. Neuburger & Pagel, I (1902) 622-752.
New Literary Contributions to Medieval Medicine, Berlin, 1896.

Pangerl, A. Studien über Albert den Grossen, in Zeitschrift für katholische Theologie, XXII (1912) 304-46, 512-49, 784-800.

Pangerl, A. Studies on Albert the Great, in Journal for Catholic Theology, XXII (1912) 304-46, 512-49, 784-800.

Pannier, L. Les lapidaires français du moyen âge, Paris, 1882.

Pannier, L. French Gemcutters of the Middle Ages, Paris, 1882.

Payne, J. F. English Medicine in Anglo-Saxon Times, 1904.
The Relation of Harvey to his Predecessors and especially to Galen: Harveian oration of 1896, in The Lancet, Oct. 24, 1896, 1136ff.

Payne, J. F. English Medicine in Anglo-Saxon Times, 1904.
The Connection of Harvey to His Predecessors and Especially to Galen: Harveian Oration of 1896, in The Lancet, Oct. 24, 1896, 1136ff.

Perna. Artis quam chemiam vocant antiquissimi auctores, Basel, 1572.

Perna. The oldest authors call the art of chemistry, Basel, 1572.

Perrier, T. La médecine astrologique, Lyons, 1905, 88 pp. Slight.

Perrier, T. Astrology in Medicine, Lyons, 1905, 88 pages. Slight.

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Petrus de Prussia. Life of St. Albert the Great, 1621.

[Pg xxxiv]

[Pg xxxiv]

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Petrus Hispanus. A Collection of Experiments or Treasure of the Poor, Antwerp, 1497.

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Philips, H. Medicine and Astrology, 1867.

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Picavet, F. Outline of a Comparative History of Medieval Philosophies, 2nd edition, Paris, 1907.

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Pitra, J. B. Analecta novissima, 1885-1888.
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Pitra, J. B. New Analecta, 1885-1888.
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Poisson, Theories and Symbols of the Alchemists, Paris, 1891.

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The Masters of the Schools at Paris and Chartres in John of Salisbury’s Time, in EHR XXXV (1920) 321-42.

Poole, R. L. Illustrations of the History of Medieval Thought in the Departments of Theology and Ecclesiastical Politics, 1884; revised edition, 1920.
The Masters of the Schools at Paris and Chartres in John of Salisbury’s Time, in EHR XXXV (1920) 321-42.

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Pouchet, F. A. History of Natural Sciences in the Middle Ages, or Albert the Great and His Time Considered as the Starting Point of the Experimental School, Paris, 1853.

Ptolemy. Quadripartitum, 1484, and other editions.
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Ptolemy. Quadripartitum, 1484, and other editions.
Optica, ed. G. Govi, Turin, 1885.

Puccinotti, F. Storia della Medicina, 1850-1870, 3 vols.

Puccinotti, F. History of Medicine, 1850-1870, 3 vols.

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Puschmann, Th. Alexander von Tralles, Original Text and Translation along with an introductory essay, Vienna, 1878-1879.
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A History of Medical Education from the earliest to the most recent times, London, 1891, English translation.

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[Pg xxxv]

[Pg xxxv]

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Rose, Valentin. Anecdota graeca et graeco-latina, Berlin, 1864.
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Arabische Lapidarien, Ibid., XLIX (1895).
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[Pg xxxvii] Der Aberglaube, Hamburg, 1900, 34 pp.
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Studien zur Geschichte der Medizin published by the Puschmann Foundation at Leipzig University, 1907-.

Sudhoff, Karl. His various articles in the foregoing publication and other periodicals of which he is an editor lie in large measure just outside our period and field, but some will be noted later in particular chapters.

Sudhoff, Karl. His various articles in the publication mentioned earlier and other magazines where he serves as an editor mostly fall outside our time period and focus, but some will be highlighted later in specific chapters.

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[Pg xxxviii]

[Pg xxxviii]

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Tavenner, E. Studies in Magic from Latin Literature, New York, 1916.

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Taylor, H. O. The Classical Heritage, 1901.
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Theatrum chemicum Britannicum. See Ashmole.

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Historia animalium, Oxford, 1910; vol. IV in the English translation of The Works of Aristotle edited by J. A. Smith and W. D. Ross.

Thorndike, Lynn. Adelard of Bath and the Continuity of Universal Nature, in Nature, XCIV (1915) 616-7.
A Roman Astrologer as a Historical Source: Julius Firmicus Maternus, in Classical Philology, VIII (1913) 415-35.
Natural Science in the Middle Ages, in Popular Science Monthly (now The Scientific Monthly), LXXXVII (1915) 271-91.
Roger Bacon and Gunpowder, in Science, XLII (1915), 799-800.
Roger Bacon and Experimental Method in the Middle Ages, in The Philosophical Review, XXIII (1914), 271-98.
Some Medieval Conceptions of Magic, in The Monist, XXV (1915), 107-39.
The Attitude of Origen and Augustine toward Magic, in The Monist, XIX (1908), 46-66.
The Place of Magic in the Intellectual History of Europe, Columbia University Press, 1905.
The True Roger Bacon, in American Historical Review, XXI (1916), 237-57, 468-80.

Thorndike, Lynn. Adelard of Bath and the Continuity of Universal Nature, in Nature, XCIV (1915) 616-7.
A Roman Astrologer as a Historical Source: Julius Firmicus Maternus, in Classical Philology, VIII (1913) 415-35.
Natural Science in the Middle Ages, in Popular Science Monthly (now The Scientific Monthly), LXXXVII (1915) 271-91.
Roger Bacon and Gunpowder, in Science, XLII (1915), 799-800.
Roger Bacon and Experimental Method in the Middle Ages, in The Philosophical Review, XXIII (1914), 271-98.
Some Medieval Conceptions of Magic, in The Monist, XXV (1915), 107-39.
The Attitude of Origen and Augustine toward Magic, in The Monist, XIX (1908), 46-66.
The Place of Magic in the Intellectual History of Europe, Columbia University Press, 1905.
The True Roger Bacon, in American Historical Review, XXI (1916), 237-57, 468-80.

[Pg xxxix]

[Pg xxxix]

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Töply, R. von. Studies on the History of Anatomy in the Middle Ages, 1898.

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Unger, F. The Plant as a Magical Remedy, Vienna, 1859.

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Walsh, J. J. Medieval Medicine, 1920, 221 pp.
Old Time Makers of Medicine; the story of the students and teachers of the sciences related to medicine during the Middle Ages, New York, 1911. Popular.
The Popes and Science, 1908.

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Webb, C. C. I. Refer to John of Salisbury.

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Webster, Hutton. Off Days, 1916.

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Wickersheimer, Ernest. Medical-Astrological Figures from the Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Centuries, in Transactions of the Seventeenth International Congress of Medicine, Section XXIII, History of Medicine, London, 1913, p. 313 ff.

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Zetzner, L. Theatrum chemicum, 1613-1622, 6 volumes.


A HISTORY OF MAGIC AND EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCE

A HISTORY OF MAGIC AND EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCE

VOLUME I


[Pg 1]

[Pg 1]

A HISTORY OF MAGIC AND EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCE AND THEIR RELATION TO CHRISTIAN THOUGHT DURING THE FIRST THIRTEEN CENTURIES OF OUR ERA

A HISTORY OF MAGIC AND EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCE AND THEIR RELATION TO CHRISTIAN THOUGHT DURING THE FIRST THIRTEEN CENTURIES OF OUR ERA

CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION

Aim of this book—Period covered—How to study the history of thought—Definition of magic—Magic of primitive man; does civilization originate in magic?—Divination in early China—Magic in ancient Egypt—Magic and Egyptian religion—Mortuary magic—Magic in daily life—Power of words, images, amulets—Magic in Egyptian medicine—Demons and disease—Magic and science—Magic and industry—Alchemy—Divination and astrology—The sources for Assyrian and Babylonian magic—Was astrology Sumerian or Chaldean?—The number seven in early Babylonia—Incantation texts older than astrological—Other divination than astrology—Incantations against sorcery and demons—A specimen incantation—Materials and devices of magic—Greek culture not free from magic—Magic in myth, literature, and history—Simultaneous increase of learning and occult science—Magic origin urged for Greek religion and drama—Magic in Greek philosophy—Plato’s attitude toward magic and astrology—Aristotle on stars and spirits—Folk-lore in the History of Animals—Differing modes of transmission of ancient oriental and Greek literature—More magical character of directly transmitted Greek remains—Progress of science among the Greeks—Archimedes and Aristotle—Exaggerated view of the scientific achievement of the Hellenistic age—Appendix I. Some works on Magic, Religion, and Astronomy in Babylonia and Assyria.

Aim of this book—Time frame covered—How to study the history of thought—Definition of magic—Magic of early humans; does civilization come from magic?—Divination in ancient China—Magic in ancient Egypt—Magic and Egyptian religion—Mortuary magic—Magic in everyday life—Power of words, images, talismans—Magic in Egyptian medicine—Demons and illness—Magic and science—Magic and industry—Alchemy—Divination and astrology—Sources for Assyrian and Babylonian magic—Was astrology Sumerian or Chaldean?—The significance of the number seven in early Babylon—Incantation texts that predate astrology—Other forms of divination besides astrology—Incantations against sorcery and demons—A sample incantation—Materials and tools of magic—Greek culture not free from magic—Magic in mythology, literature, and history—Concurrent rise of knowledge and occult sciences—Magic's influence on Greek religion and drama—Magic in Greek philosophy—Plato’s perspective on magic and astrology—Aristotle's views on stars and spirits—Folklore in the History of Animals—Different ways of transmitting ancient oriental and Greek literature—More magical nature of directly passed-down Greek texts—Advancements in science among the Greeks—Archimedes and Aristotle—Overstated view of scientific progress during the Hellenistic period—Appendix I. Some works on Magic, Religion, and Astronomy in Babylonia and Assyria.

Magic has existed among all peoples and at every period.”—Hegel.[3]

Magic has been a part of every culture and every time period.”—Hegel.[3]

Aim of this book.

This book aims to treat the history of magic and experimental science and their relations to Christian thought during the first thirteen centuries of our era, with especial emphasis upon the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. No[Pg 2] adequate survey of the history of either magic or experimental science exists for this period, and considerable use of manuscript material has been necessary for the medieval period. Magic is here understood in the broadest sense of the word, as including all occult arts and sciences, superstitions, and folk-lore. I shall endeavor to justify this use of the word from the sources as I proceed. My idea is that magic and experimental science have been connected in their development; that magicians were perhaps the first to experiment; and that the history of both magic and experimental science can be better understood by studying them together. I also desire to make clearer than it has been to most scholars the Latin learning of the medieval period, whose leading personalities even are generally inaccurately known, and on perhaps no one point is illumination more needed than on that covered by our investigation. The subject of laws against magic, popular practice of magic, the witchcraft delusion and persecution lie outside of the scope of this book.[4]

This book focuses on the history of magic and experimental science and their connections to Christian thought during the first thirteen centuries of our era, particularly emphasizing the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. No adequate overview of the history of either magic or experimental science exists for this period, and significant use of manuscript material has been essential for the medieval era. Magic here is understood in the broadest sense, including all occult arts and sciences, superstitions, and folk tales. I will aim to justify this use of the term from the sources as I proceed. My idea is that magic and experimental science have been linked in their development; that magicians were possibly the first to experiment; and that the history of both can be better understood by studying them together. I also wish to clarify the Latin scholarship of the medieval period, whose key figures are often inaccurately recognized, and perhaps no area is in greater need of illumination than that covered by our investigation. The topics of laws against magic, the popular practice of magic, and the witchcraft delusion and persecution are beyond the scope of this book. [Pg 2]

Period covered.

At first my plan was to limit this investigation to the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the time of greatest medieval productivity, but I became convinced that this period could be best understood by viewing it in the setting of the Greek, Latin, and early Christian writers to whom it owed so much. If the student of the Byzantine Empire needs to know old Rome, the student of the medieval church to comprehend early Christianity, the student of Romance languages to understand Latin, still more must the reader of Constantinus Africanus, Vincent of Beauvais, Guido Bonatti, and Thomas Aquinas be familiar with the Pliny, Galen, and Ptolemy, the Origen and Augustine, the Alkindi and Albumasar from whom they drew. It would indeed be difficult to draw a line anywhere between them. The ancient[Pg 3] authors are generally extant only in their medieval form; in some cases there is reason to suspect that they have undergone alteration or addition; sometimes new works were fathered upon them. In any case they have been preserved to us because the middle ages studied and cherished them, and to a great extent made them their own. I begin with the first century of our era, because Christian thought begins then, and then appeared Pliny’s Natural History which seems to me the best starting point of a survey of ancient science and magic.[5] I close with the thirteenth century, or, more strictly speaking, in the course of the fourteenth, because by then the medieval revival of learning had spent its force. Attention is centred on magic and experimental science in western Latin literature and learning, Greek and Arabic works being considered as they contributed thereto, and vernacular literature being omitted as either derived from Latin works or unlearned and unscientific.

At first, I planned to limit this investigation to the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the peak of medieval productivity, but I became convinced that this period can best be understood by looking at the Greek, Latin, and early Christian writers it relies on heavily. Just as a student of the Byzantine Empire needs to understand old Rome and a student of the medieval church must grasp early Christianity, a student of Romance languages needs to appreciate Latin. Even more crucial is it for the reader of Constantinus Africanus, Vincent of Beauvais, Guido Bonatti, and Thomas Aquinas to be familiar with Pliny, Galen, and Ptolemy, as well as Origen, Augustine, Alkindi, and Albumasar, from whom they drew inspiration. It would indeed be challenging to separate these influences. The ancient authors are usually only available in their medieval forms; in some instances, there may be reasons to suspect they have been altered or added to; sometimes new works were incorrectly attributed to them. In any case, they have been preserved for us because the Middle Ages studied and valued them, and largely made them their own. I begin with the first century of our era, as that marks the beginning of Christian thought, and it was when Pliny’s Natural History appeared, which seems to be the best starting point for exploring ancient science and magic. I conclude with the thirteenth century, or more precisely, into the fourteenth, because by then the medieval revival of learning had run its course. The focus is on magic and experimental science in Western Latin literature and learning, considering Greek and Arabic works as they contributed to it, while vernacular literature is excluded as either derived from Latin works or lacking in scholarly and scientific approach.

How to study the history of thought.

Very probably I have tried to cover too much ground and have made serious omissions. It is probably true that for the history of thought as for the history of art the evidence and source material is more abundant than for political or economic history. But fortunately it is more reliable, since the pursuit of truth or beauty does not encourage deception and prejudice as does the pursuit of wealth or power. Also the history of thought is more unified and consistent, steadier and more regular, than the fluctuations and diversities of political history; and for this reason its general outlines can be discerned with reasonable sureness by the examination of even a limited number of examples, provided they are properly selected from a period of sufficient duration. Moreover, it seems to me that in the present stage of research into and knowledge of our subject[Pg 4] sounder conclusions and even more novel ones can be drawn by a wide comparative survey than by a minutely intensive and exhaustive study of one man or of a few years. The danger is of writing from too narrow a viewpoint, magnifying unduly the importance of some one man or theory, and failing to evaluate the facts in their full historical setting. No medieval writer whether on science or magic can be understood by himself, but must be measured in respect to his surroundings and antecedents.

I’ve probably tried to cover too much and have left out some important points. It's likely that, just like in art, there's more evidence and source material available for the history of thought than for political or economic history. Fortunately, this material is also more reliable, since the quest for truth or beauty doesn’t promote deception and bias like the quest for wealth or power does. Additionally, the history of thought is more unified and consistent, more stable and regular, than the ups and downs of political history. Because of this, we can identify its general outlines with reasonable confidence by examining even a small number of examples, as long as they are carefully chosen from a long enough time period. Moreover, I believe that at this stage of research and understanding of our topic[Pg 4], more reliable and even more innovative conclusions can be drawn from a broad comparative overview rather than from an in-depth study of one individual or a few years. The risk is that we may write from too narrow a perspective, overly emphasizing the significance of a particular person or theory, and not fully assessing the facts in their complete historical context. No medieval writer, whether on science or magic, can be understood in isolation; we need to consider him in relation to his environment and the influences that came before him.

Definition of magic.

Some may think it strange that I associate magic so closely with the history of thought, but the word comes from the Magi or wise men of Persia or Babylon, to whose lore and practices the name was applied by the Greeks and Romans, or possibly we may trace its etymology a little farther back to the Sumerian or Turanian word imga or unga, meaning deep or profound. The exact meaning of the word, “magic,” was a matter of much uncertainty even in classical and medieval times, as we shall see. There can be no doubt, however, that it was then applied not merely to an operative art, but also to a mass of ideas or doctrine, and that it represented a way of looking at the world. This side of magic has sometimes been lost sight of in hasty or assumed modern definitions which seem to regard magic as merely a collection of rites and feats. In the case of primitive men and savages it is possible that little thought accompanies their actions. But until these acts are based upon or related to some imaginative, purposive, and rational thinking, the doings of early man cannot be distinguished as either religious or scientific or magical. Beavers build dams, birds build nests, ants excavate, but they have no magic just as they have no science or religion. Magic implies a mental state and so may be viewed from the standpoint of the history of thought. In process of time, as the learned and educated lost faith in magic, it was degraded to the low practices and beliefs of the ignorant and vulgar. It was this use of the term that was taken up by anthropologists and by them applied to analogous doings and[Pg 5] notions of primitive men and savages. But we may go too far in regarding magic as a purely social product of tribal society: magicians may be, in Sir James Frazer’s words,[6] “the only professional class” among the lowest savages, but note that they rank as a learned profession from the start. It will be chiefly through the writings of learned men that something of their later history and of the growth of interest in experimental science will be traced in this work. Let me add that in this investigation all arts of divination, including astrology, will be reckoned as magic; I have been quite unable to separate the two either in fact or logic, as I shall illustrate repeatedly by particular cases.[7]

Some might find it odd that I link magic so closely with the history of thought, but the word comes from the Magi or wise men of Persia or Babylon, a term the Greeks and Romans used to refer to their knowledge and practices. We might trace its origins even further back to the Sumerian or Turanian words imga or unga, which mean deep or profound. The exact meaning of the word “magic” was uncertain even in classical and medieval times, as we’ll see. However, there’s no doubt that it was applied not only to a practical art but also to a set of ideas or doctrines, representing a way of understanding the world. This aspect of magic is sometimes overlooked in quick or assumed modern definitions that treat magic as just a collection of rituals and tricks. For primitive people and savages, it’s possible that little thought goes into their actions. But unless these actions are based on or connected to some imaginative, purposeful, and rational thinking, the behaviors of early humans can’t distinctly be labeled as religious, scientific, or magical. Beavers build dams, birds make nests, and ants dig tunnels, but they don’t have magic just like they don’t have science or religion. Magic implies a mental state and can be viewed through the lens of the history of thought. Over time, as the educated lost faith in magic, it became associated with the low practices and beliefs of the uneducated and vulgar. This usage of the term was adopted by anthropologists, who applied it to similar practices and[Pg 5] ideas of primitive peoples and savages. However, we might be going too far in seeing magic as purely a social product of tribal society: although magicians may be, in Sir James Frazer’s words, “the only professional class” among the lowest savages, they are recognized as a knowledgeable profession from the beginning. It will primarily be through the writings of educated individuals that we will trace some of their later history and the growth of interest in experimental science in this work. I should also mention that in this investigation, all forms of divination, including astrology, will be counted as magic; I have found it impossible to separate the two either in fact or in logic, as I will repeatedly illustrate with specific examples.

Magic of primitive man: does civilization originate in magic?

Magic is very old, and it will perhaps be well in this introductory chapter to present it to the reader, if not in its infancy—for its origins are much disputed and perhaps antecede all record and escape all observation—at least some centuries before its Roman and medieval days. Sir J. G. Frazer, in a passage of The Golden Bough to which we have already referred, remarks that “sorcerers are found in every savage tribe known to us; and among the lowest savages ... they are the only professional class that exists.”[8] Lenormant affirmed in his Chaldean Magic and Sorcery[9] that “all magic rests upon a system of religious belief,” but recent sociologists and anthropologists have[Pg 6] inclined to regard magic as older than a belief in gods. At any rate some of the most primitive features of historical religions seem to have originated from magic. Moreover, religious cults, rites, and priesthoods are not the only things that have been declared inferior in antiquity to magic and largely indebted to it for their origins. Combarieu in his Music and Magic[10] asserts that the incantation is universally employed in all the circumstances of primitive life and that from it, by the medium it is true of religious poetry, all modern music has developed. The magic incantation is, in short, “the oldest fact in the history of civilization.” Although the magician chants without thought of æsthetic form or an artistically appreciative audience, yet his spell contains in embryo all that later constitutes the art of music.[11] M. Paul Huvelin, after asserting with similar confidence that poetry,[12] the plastic arts,[13] medicine, mathematics, astronomy, and chemistry “have easily discernable magic sources,” states that he will demonstrate that the same is true of law.[14] Very recently, however, there has been something of a reaction against this tendency to regard the life of primitive man as made up entirely of magic and to trace back every phase of civilization to a magical origin. But R. R. Marett still sees a higher standard of value in primitive man’s magic than in his warfare and brutal exploitation of his fellows and believes that the “higher plane of experience for which mana stands is one in which spiritual enlargement is appreciated for its own sake.”[15]

Magic is very old, and it might be helpful in this introductory chapter to present it to the reader, not necessarily in its beginnings—since its origins are highly debated and likely predate all records and escape all observation—at least some centuries before its Roman and medieval periods. Sir J. G. Frazer, in a passage from The Golden Bough that we've already mentioned, points out that “sorcerers are found in every savage tribe known to us; and among the lowest savages ... they are the only professional class that exists.”[8] Lenormant claimed in his Chaldean Magic and Sorcery[9] that “all magic rests upon a system of religious belief,” but recent sociologists and anthropologists have[Pg 6] leaned toward viewing magic as older than the belief in gods. In any case, some of the most primitive aspects of historical religions seem to have originated from magic. Furthermore, religious cults, rites, and priesthoods are not the only things that have been considered inferior in ancient times to magic and largely dependent on it for their origins. Combarieu in his Music and Magic[10] argues that incantation is universally used in all aspects of primitive life, and from it, through the medium of religious poetry, all modern music has developed. The magic incantation is, in short, “the oldest fact in the history of civilization.” Although the magician chants without thinking about aesthetic form or an artistically appreciative audience, his spell contains the seeds of what will later become the art of music.[11] M. Paul Huvelin, after confidently stating that poetry,[12] the plastic arts,[13] medicine, mathematics, astronomy, and chemistry “have easily discernible magical sources,” claims he will show that the same applies to law.[14] Recently, however, there has been a bit of a pushback against this tendency to see the life of primitive man as entirely made up of magic and to trace every aspect of civilization back to a magical origin. But R. R. Marett still perceives a higher value in primitive man’s magic than in his warfare and brutal exploitation of others, believing that the “higher plane of experience for which mana stands is one in which spiritual growth is appreciated for its own sake.”[15]

Divination in early China.

Of the five classics included in the Confucian Canon, The Book of Changes (I Ching or Yi-King), regarded by[Pg 7] some as the oldest work in Chinese literature and dated back as early as 3000 B.C., in its rudimentary form appears to have been a method of divination by means of eight possible combinations in triplets of a line and a broken line. Thus, if a be a line and b a broken line, we may have aaa, bbb, aab, bba, abb, baa, aba, and bab. Possibly there is a connection with the use of knotted cords which, Chinese writers state, preceded written characters, like the method used in ancient Peru. More certain would seem the resemblance to the medieval method of divination known as geomancy, which we shall encounter later in our Latin authors. Magic and astrology might, of course, be traced all through Chinese history and literature. But, contenting ourselves with this single example of the antiquity of such arts in the civilization of the far east, let us turn to other ancient cultures which had a closer and more unmistakable influence upon the western world.

Of the five classics in the Confucian Canon, The Book of Changes (I Ching or Yi-King), considered by some to be the oldest work in Chinese literature and dating back as early as 3000 B.C., in its basic form seems to have been a method of divination using eight possible combinations in triplets of a solid line and a broken line. So, if a represents a solid line and b a broken line, we can have aaa, bbb, aab, bba, abb, baa, aba, and bab. There might be a link to the use of knotted cords, which Chinese scholars say came before written characters, similar to methods used in ancient Peru. A clearer connection may be seen with the medieval divination technique known as geomancy, which we will explore later with our Latin authors. Magic and astrology have certainly been present throughout Chinese history and literature. But, focusing on this one example of the ancient practices in the civilization of the Far East, let’s shift our attention to other ancient cultures that had a more direct and clear influence on the Western world.

Magic in ancient Egypt.

Of the ancient Egyptians Budge writes, “The belief in magic influenced their minds ... from the earliest to the latest period of their history ... in a manner which, at this stage in the history of the world, is very difficult to understand.”[16] To the ordinary historical student the evidence for this assertion does not seem quite so overwhelming as the Egyptologists would have us think. It looks thinner when we begin to spread it out over a stretch of four[Pg 8] thousand years, and it scarcely seems scientific to adduce details from medieval Arabic tales or from the late Greek fiction of the Pseudo-Callisthenes or from papyri of the Christian era concerning the magic of early Egypt. And it may be questioned whether two stories preserved in the Westcar papyrus, written many centuries afterwards, are alone “sufficient to prove that already in the Fourth Dynasty the working of magic was a recognized art among the Egyptians.”[17]

Of the ancient Egyptians, Budge writes, “The belief in magic influenced their minds ... from the earliest to the latest period of their history ... in a way that is very hard to grasp at this point in world history.”[16] To the average history student, the evidence for this claim doesn’t seem as convincing as the Egyptologists suggest. It appears weaker when we consider it over a span of four[Pg 8] thousand years, and it doesn't seem scientific to reference details from medieval Arabic stories or from the late Greek fiction of the Pseudo-Callisthenes or from papyri from the Christian period about the magic of early Egypt. Moreover, it can be questioned whether two tales preserved in the Westcar papyrus, written many centuries later, are enough to “prove that already in the Fourth Dynasty the practice of magic was a recognized skill among the Egyptians.”[17]

Magic and Egyptian religion.

At any rate we are told that the belief in magic not only was predynastic and prehistoric, but was “older in Egypt than the belief in God.”[18] In the later religion of the Egyptians, along with more lofty and intellectual conceptions, magic was still a principal ingredient.[19] Their mythology was affected by it[20] and they not only combated demons with magical formulae but believed that they could terrify and coerce the very gods by the same method, compelling them to appear, to violate the course of nature by miracles, or to admit the human soul to an equality with themselves.[21]

At any rate, we're told that the belief in magic not only existed before recorded history but was "older in Egypt than the belief in God."[18] In the later religion of the Egyptians, alongside more elevated and intellectual ideas, magic remained a key component.[19] Their mythology was influenced by it[20] and they not only fought demons with magical spells but believed they could intimidate and control the very gods using the same approach, forcing them to show up, disrupt the natural order through miracles, or recognize the human soul as equal to themselves.[21]

Mortuary magic.

Magic was as essential in the future life as here on earth among the living. Many, if not most, of the observances and objects connected with embalming and burial had a magic purpose or mode of operation; for instance, the “magic eyes placed over the opening in the side of the body through which the embalmer removed the intestines,”[22] or the mannikins and models of houses buried with the dead. In the process of embalming the wrapping of each bandage was accompanied by the utterance of magic words.[23] In “the oldest chapter of human thought extant”—the Pyramid[Pg 9] Texts written in hieroglyphic at the tombs at Sakkara of Pharaohs of the fifth and sixth dynasties (c. 2625-2475 B.C.), magic is so manifest that some have averred “that the whole body of Pyramid Texts is simply a collection of magical charms.”[24] The scenes and objects painted on the walls of the tombs, such as those of nobles in the fifth and sixth dynasties, were employed with magic intent and were meant to be realized in the future life; and with the twelfth dynasty the Egyptians began to paint on the insides of the coffins the objects that were formerly actually placed within.[25] Under the Empire the famous Book of the Dead is a collection of magic pictures, charms, and incantations for the use of the deceased in the hereafter,[26] and while it is not of the early period, we hear that “a book with words of magic power” was buried with a pharaoh of the Old Kingdom. Budge has “no doubt that the object of every religious text ever written on tomb, stele, amulet, coffin, papyrus, etc., was to bring the gods under the power of the deceased, so that he might be able to compel them to do his will.”[27] Breasted, on the other hand, thinks that the amount and complexity of this mortuary magic increased greatly in the later period under popular and priestly influence.[28]

Magic was just as essential in the afterlife as it is here on earth among the living. Many, if not most, of the rituals and items associated with embalming and burial served a magical purpose; for example, the “magic eyes placed over the opening in the side of the body through which the embalmer removed the intestines,”[22] or the figurines and models of houses buried with the dead. During the embalming process, each bandage was wrapped while saying magic words.[23] In “the oldest record of human thought available”—the Pyramid[Pg 9] Texts written in hieroglyphics at the tombs in Sakkara of Pharaohs from the fifth and sixth dynasties (c. 2625-2475 B.C.), magic is so evident that some have claimed “that the entire body of Pyramid Texts is just a collection of magical charms.”[24] The scenes and objects painted on the walls of the tombs, like those of nobles from the fifth and sixth dynasties, were used with magical intent and were meant to be realized in the afterlife; and during the twelfth dynasty, the Egyptians began to paint the inside of coffins with the objects that were previously placed inside them.[25] In the Empire, the famous Book of the Dead is a compilation of magical images, charms, and incantations for the deceased in the afterlife,[26] and although it isn't from the early period, we hear that “a book with words of magical power” was buried with a pharaoh of the Old Kingdom. Budge has “no doubt that the purpose of every religious text ever written on tombs, stelae, amulets, coffins, papyrus, etc., was to bring the gods under the control of the deceased, so that he could compel them to do his bidding.”[27] Breasted, on the other hand, believes that the volume and complexity of this mortuary magic greatly increased in later periods due to popular and priestly influence.[28]

Magic in daily life.

Breasted nevertheless believes that magic had played a great part in daily life throughout the whole course of Egyptian history. He writes, “It is difficult for the modern mind to understand how completely the belief in magic penetrated the whole substance of life, dominating popular custom and constantly appearing in the simplest acts of the daily household routine, as much a matter of course as[Pg 10] sleep or the preparation of food. It constituted the very atmosphere in which the men of the early oriental world lived. Without the saving and salutary influence of such magical agencies constantly invoked, the life of an ancient household in the East was unthinkable.”[29]

Breasted still believes that magic played a significant role in daily life throughout Egyptian history. He writes, “It’s hard for modern minds to grasp how deeply the belief in magic was woven into every part of life, influencing popular customs and frequently showing up in the simplest daily routines, as natural as sleep or preparing food. It created the very atmosphere in which people of the early Oriental world lived. Without the protective and beneficial effects of these magical practices that were constantly called upon, life in an ancient Eastern household would have been unimaginable.”[Pg 10]

Power of words, images, amulets.

Most of the main features and varieties of magic known to us at other times and places appear somewhere in the course of Egypt’s long history. For one thing we find the ascription of magic power to words and names. The power of words, says Budge, was thought to be practically unlimited, and “the Egyptians invoked their aid in the smallest as well as in the greatest events of their life.”[30] Words might be spoken, in which case they “must be uttered in a proper tone of voice by a duly qualified man,” or they might be written, in which case the material upon which they were written might be of importance.[31] In speaking of mortuary magic we have already noted the employment of pictures, models, mannikins, and other images, figures, and objects. Wax figures were also used in sorcery,[32] and amulets are found from the first, although their particular forms seem to have altered with different periods.[33] Scarabs are of course the most familiar example.

Most of the key features and types of magic that we know from other times and places can be found throughout Egypt’s long history. For instance, there is a belief that words and names hold magical power. According to Budge, the power of words was considered nearly limitless, and “the Egyptians invoked their aid in the smallest as well as in the greatest events of their life.”[30] Words could be spoken, but they “must be uttered in a proper tone of voice by a duly qualified man,” or they could be written, in which case the material they were written on might also be significant.[31] When discussing mortuary magic, we have already observed the use of pictures, models, mannikins, and other images, figures, and objects. Wax figures were also used in sorcery,[32] and amulets have been around since the beginning, although their specific forms seem to have changed over different periods.[33] Scarabs are obviously the most well-known example.

Magic in Egyptian medicine.

Egyptian medicine was full of magic and ritual and its therapeusis consisted mainly of “collections of incantations and weird random mixtures of roots and refuse.”[34] Already we find the recipe and the occult virtue conceptions, the elaborate polypharmacy and the accompanying hocus-pocus which we shall meet in Pliny and the middle ages. The Egyptian doctors used herbs from other countries and preferred compound medicines containing a dozen ingredients to simple medicines.[35] Already we find such magic[Pg 11] logic as that the hair of a black calf will keep one from growing gray.[36] Already the parts of animals are a favorite ingredient in medical compounds, especially those connected with the organs of generation, on which account they were presumably looked upon as life-giving, or those which were recommended mainly by their nastiness and were probably thought to expel the demons of disease by their disagreeable properties.

Egyptian medicine was filled with magic and rituals, and its treatments were mostly “collections of incantations and strange mixtures of roots and waste.”[34] We can already see the recipes and ideas of occult powers, the complex use of multiple medicines, and the accompanying nonsense that we will also encounter in Pliny and the Middle Ages. Egyptian doctors used herbs from other countries and preferred compound medicines with a dozen ingredients over simple ones.[35] There was already this magical notion[Pg 11] that the hair of a black calf would prevent someone from going gray.[36] Animal parts were already a favorite element in medical mixtures, especially those related to reproductive organs, which were presumably seen as life-giving, or those that were mostly included due to their unpleasantness and likely thought to drive out the demons of illness through their disagreeable qualities.

Demons and disease.

In ancient Egypt, however, disease seems not to have been identified with possession by demons to the extent that it was in ancient Assyria and Babylonia. While Breasted asserts that “disease was due to hostile spirits and against these only magic could avail,”[37] Budge contents himself with the more cautious statement that there is “good reason for thinking that some diseases were attributed to ... evil spirits ... entering ... human bodies ... but the texts do not afford much information”[38] on this point. Certainly the beliefs in evil spirits and in magic do not always have to go together, and magic might be employed against disease whether or not it was ascribed to a demon.

In ancient Egypt, however, disease doesn’t seem to have been as closely linked to demonic possession as it was in ancient Assyria and Babylonia. While Breasted claims that “disease was due to hostile spirits and only magic could help against these,”[37] Budge takes a more cautious approach, stating that there is “good reason to think that some diseases were attributed to ... evil spirits ... entering ... human bodies ... but the texts do not provide much information”[38] on this matter. Certainly, beliefs in evil spirits and magic don’t always have to go hand in hand, and magic could be used against disease regardless of whether it was linked to a demon.

Magic and science.

In the case of medicine as in that of religion Breasted takes the view that the amount of magic became greater in the Middle and New Kingdoms than in the Old Kingdom. This is true so far as the amount of space occupied by it in extant records is concerned. But it would be rash to assume that this marks a decline from a more rational and scientific attitude in the Old Kingdom. Yet Breasted rather gives this impression when he writes concerning the Old Kingdom that many of its recipes were useful and rational, that “medicine was already in the possession of much empirical wisdom, displaying close and accurate observation,” and that what “precluded any progress toward real science was the belief in magic, which later began to dominate all the[Pg 12] practice of the physician.”[39] Berthelot probably places the emphasis more correctly when he states that the later medical papyri “include traditional recipes, founded on an empiricism which is not always correct, mystic remedies, based upon the most bizarre analogies, and magic practices that date back to the remotest antiquity.”[40] The recent efforts of Sethe and Wilcken, of Elliot Smith, Müller, and Hooten to show that the ancient Egyptians possessed a considerable amount of medical knowledge and of surgical and dental skill, have been held by Todd to rest on slight and dubious evidence. Indeed, some of this evidence seems rather to suggest the ritualistic practices still employed by uncivilized African tribes. Certainly the evidence for any real scientific development in ancient Egypt has been very meager compared with the abundant indications of the prevalence of magic.[41]

In both medicine and religion, Breasted believes that the role of magic increased during the Middle and New Kingdoms compared to the Old Kingdom. This is evident when considering the amount of space it occupies in existing records. However, it would be hasty to assume that this signifies a decline from a more rational and scientific perspective in the Old Kingdom. Still, Breasted gives this impression when he notes that many recipes from the Old Kingdom were practical and rational, stating that "medicine already had a wealth of empirical wisdom, showcasing close and accurate observation," and that what "prevented any advancement towards true science was the belief in magic, which later began to take over all the practice of the physician." [39] Berthelot likely provides a more accurate perspective when he mentions that the later medical papyri “contain traditional recipes, based on an empiricism that is not always correct, mystical remedies grounded in the most bizarre analogies, and magical practices that date back to the earliest times.” [40] The recent work by Sethe and Wilcken, as well as Elliot Smith, Müller, and Hooten, aimed at demonstrating that the ancient Egyptians had considerable medical knowledge and skills in surgery and dentistry, has been criticized by Todd for relying on weak and questionable evidence. Indeed, some of this evidence seems to suggest the ritualistic practices still used by uncivilized African tribes. Clearly, the evidence for any significant scientific advancement in ancient Egypt has been very limited compared to the abundant signs of the dominance of magic. [41]

Magic and industry.

Early Egypt was the home of many arts and industries, but not in so advanced a stage as has sometimes been suggested. Blown glass, for example, was unknown until late Greek and Roman times, and the supposed glass-blowers depicted on the early monuments are really smiths engaged in stirring their fires by blowing through reeds tipped with clay.[42] On the other hand, Professor Breasted informs me that there is no basis for Berthelot’s statement that “every sort of chemical process as well as medical treatment was executed with an accompaniment of religious formulae, of prayers and incantations, regarded as essential to the success of operations as well as the cure of maladies.”[43]

Early Egypt was the birthplace of many arts and industries, but they weren't as advanced as often claimed. For instance, blown glass didn't appear until late Greek and Roman times, and the so-called glass-blowers shown on early monuments were actually smiths fanning their fires by blowing through clay-tipped reeds. [42] On the other hand, Professor Breasted tells me that there’s no support for Berthelot’s claim that “every kind of chemical process and medical treatment was done with religious rituals, prayers, and incantations considered essential for the success of procedures and the healing of illnesses.” [43]

Alchemy.

Alchemy perhaps originated on the one hand from the practices of Egyptian goldsmiths and workers in metals, who experimented with alloys,[44] and on the other hand from[Pg 13] the theories of the Greek philosophers concerning world-grounds, first matter, and the elements.[45] The words, alchemy and chemistry, are derived ultimately from the name of Egypt itself, Kamt or Qemt, meaning literally black, and applied to the Nile mud. The word was also applied to the black powder produced by quicksilver in Egyptian metallurgical processes. This powder, Budge says, was supposed to be the ground of all metals and to possess marvelous virtue, “and was mystically identified with the body which Osiris possessed in the underworld, and both were thought to be sources of life and power.”[46] The analogy to the sacrament of the mass and the marvelous powers ascribed to the host by medieval preachers like Stephen of Bourbon scarcely needs remark. The later writers on alchemy in Greek appear to have borrowed signs and phraseology from the Egyptian priests, and are fond of speaking of their art as the monopoly of Egyptian kings and priests who carved its secrets on ancient steles and obelisks. In a treatise dating from the twelfth dynasty a scribe recommends to his son a work entitled Chemi, but there is no proof that it was concerned with chemistry or alchemy.[47] The papyri containing treatises of alchemy are of the third century of the Christian era.

Alchemy likely originated from two sources: the practices of Egyptian goldsmiths and metal workers who experimented with alloys,[44] and the theories of Greek philosophers about the fundamental nature of the world, first matter, and the elements.[45] The terms alchemy and chemistry ultimately come from Egypt's name itself, Kamt or Qemt, which literally means black, referring to the Nile mud. This term was also used for the black powder produced by quicksilver in Egyptian metalworking. According to Budge, this powder was believed to be the foundation of all metals and to have remarkable properties, “and was mystically identified with the body that Osiris occupied in the underworld, with both thought to be sources of life and power.”[46] The comparison to the mass sacrament and the extraordinary powers attributed to the host by medieval preachers like Stephen of Bourbon barely needs mentioning. Later alchemical writers in Greek seem to have taken symbols and terminology from Egyptian priests and often describe their craft as exclusive to Egyptian kings and priests who inscribed its secrets on ancient steles and obelisks. In a treatise from the twelfth dynasty, a scribe advises his son to study a work called Chemi, but there’s no evidence that it dealt with chemistry or alchemy.[47] The papyri containing alchemical treatises date back to the third century of the Christian era.

Divination and astrology.

Evidences of divination in general and of astrology in particular do not appear as early in Egyptian records as examples of other varieties of magic. Yet the early date at which Egypt had a calendar suggests astronomical interest, and even those who deny that seven planets were distinguished in the Tigris-Euphrates Valley until the last millennium before Christ, admit that they were known in Egypt as far back as the Old Kingdom, although they deny the existence of a science of astronomy or an art of astrology then.[48] A dream of Thotmes IV is preserved from 1450 B.C. or thereabouts, and the incantations employed by magicians[Pg 14] in order to procure divining dreams for their customers attest the close connection of divination and magic.[49] Belief in lucky and unlucky days is shown in a papyrus calendar of about 1300 B.C.,[50] and we shall see later that “Egyptian Days” continued to be a favorite superstition of the middle ages. Tables of the risings of stars which may have an astrological significance have been found in graves, and there were gods for every month, every day of the month, and every hour of the day.[51] Such numbers as seven and twelve are frequently emphasized in the tombs and elsewhere, and if the vaulted ceiling in the tenth chamber of the tomb of Sethos is really of his time, we seem to find the signs of the zodiac under the nineteenth dynasty. If Boll is correct in suggesting that the zodiac originated in the transfer of animal gods to the sky,[52] no fitter place than Egypt could be found for the transfer. But there have not yet been discovered in Egypt lists of omens and appearances of constellations on days of disaster such as are found in the literature of the Tigris-Euphrates valley and in the Roman historians. Budge speaks of the seven Hathor goddesses who predict the death that the infant must some time die, and affirms that “the Egyptians believed that a man’s fate ... was decided before he was born, and that he had no power to alter it.”[53] But I cannot agree that “we have good reason for assigning the birthplace of the horoscope to Egypt,”[54] since the evidence seems to be limited to the almost medieval Pseudo-Callisthenes and a Greek horoscope in the British Museum to which is attached the letter of an astrologer urging his pupil to study the ancient Egyptians carefully. The later Greek and Latin tradition that astrology was the invention of the divine men of Egypt and Babylon probably has a basis of fact, but more contemporary evidence is needed if Egypt is to contest the claim of Babylon to precedence in that art.

Evidence of divination in general and astrology in particular doesn't show up as early in Egyptian records as other types of magic. However, the early establishment of a calendar in Egypt indicates an interest in astronomy. Even those who claim that the distinction of seven planets only emerged in the Tigris-Euphrates Valley during the last millennium BC agree that they were recognized in Egypt as far back as the Old Kingdom, even if they dispute the existence of an astronomy science or astrology art at that time. A dream from Thotmes IV has been preserved from around 1450 B.C., and the spells used by magicians to produce prophetic dreams for their clients highlight the close relationship between divination and magic. Belief in lucky and unlucky days is evident in a papyrus calendar from around 1300 B.C., and we will later see that “Egyptian Days” remained a common superstition during the Middle Ages. Tables of star risings that may hold astrological significance have been found in tombs, and there were gods associated with every month, every day, and every hour. Special numbers like seven and twelve are often emphasized in tombs and other locations. If the vaulted ceiling in the tenth chamber of Sethos's tomb is indeed from his time, it appears we can find zodiac signs from the nineteenth dynasty. If Boll is right in saying that the zodiac came from placing animal gods in the sky, Egypt would be the perfect place for that transition. However, no lists of omens or celestial events on disastrous days, like those found in Tigris-Euphrates literature or Roman historians, have been discovered in Egypt. Budge mentions seven Hathor goddesses who forecast the death that an infant must eventually face and claims that “the Egyptians believed that a man’s fate... was decided before he was born, and that he had no power to change it.” But I cannot agree with the idea that “we have good reason for assigning the birthplace of the horoscope to Egypt,” as the evidence appears to be limited to the nearly medieval Pseudo-Callisthenes and a Greek horoscope in the British Museum, which includes a letter from an astrologer encouraging his student to study the ancient Egyptians carefully. The later Greek and Latin tradition claiming that astrology was the brainchild of the divine men of Egypt and Babylon likely has some basis in fact, but more contemporary evidence is needed if Egypt is to challenge Babylon's claim to being the origin of that practice.

[Pg 15]

[Pg 15]

The sources for Assyrian and Babylonian magic.

In the written remains of Babylonian and Assyrian civilization[55] the magic cuneiform tablets play a large part and give us the impression that fear of demons was a leading feature of Assyrian and Babylonian religion and that daily thought and life were constantly affected by magic. The bulk of the religious and magical texts are preserved in the library of Assurbanipal, king of Assyria from 668 to 626 B.C. But he collected his library from the ancient temple cities, the scribes tell us that they are copying very ancient texts, and the Sumerian language is still largely employed.[56] Eridu, one of the main centers of early Sumerian culture, “was an immemorial home of ancient wisdom, that is to say, magic.”[57] It is, however, difficult in the library of Assurbanipal to distinguish what is Babylonian from what is Assyrian or what is Sumerian from what is Semitic. Thus we are told that “with the exception of some very ancient texts, the Sumerian literature, consisting largely of religious material such as hymns and incantations, shows a number of Semitic loanwords and grammatical Semitisms, and in many cases, although not always, is quite patently a translation of Semitic ideas by Semitic priests into the formal religious Sumerian language.”[58]

In the remains of Babylonian and Assyrian civilization, the magical cuneiform tablets play a significant role and give us the impression that fear of demons was a prominent aspect of Assyrian and Babylonian religion, with magic constantly influencing daily thoughts and life. Most of the religious and magical texts are preserved in the library of Assurbanipal, who ruled Assyria from 668 to 626 B.C. However, he collected his library from ancient temple cities, and the scribes note that they are copying very old texts, with the Sumerian language still being widely used. Eridu, one of the major centers of early Sumerian culture, “was an ancient home of wisdom, that is to say, magic.” It is, however, challenging to differentiate what is Babylonian from what is Assyrian, or what is Sumerian from what is Semitic within the library of Assurbanipal. We are informed that “except for some very ancient texts, Sumerian literature, which mainly consists of religious materials like hymns and incantations, includes several Semitic loanwords and grammatical Semitisms, and in many instances, although not always, is clearly a translation of Semitic ideas by Semitic priests into the formal religious Sumerian language.”

Was astrology Sumerian or Chaldean?

The chief point in dispute, over which great controversy has taken place recently among German scholars, is as to the antiquity of both astronomical knowledge and astrological doctrine, including astral theology, among the dwellers in the Tigris-Euphrates region. Briefly, such writers as Winckler, Stücken, and Jeremias held that the religion of the early Babylonians was largely based on astrology and that all their thought was permeated by it, and that they had probably by an early date made astronomical observations and acquired astronomical knowledge which was lost[Pg 16] in the decline of their culture. Opposing this view, such scholars as Kugler, Bezold, Boll, and Schiaparelli have shown the lack of certain evidence for either any considerable astronomical knowledge or astrological theory in the Tigris-Euphrates Valley until the late appearance of the Chaldeans. It is even denied that the seven planets were distinguished in the early period, much less the signs of the zodiac or the planetary week,[59] which last, together with any real advance in astronomy, is reserved for the Hellenistic period.

The main point of debate, which has sparked significant controversy among German scholars recently, is the age of both astronomical knowledge and astrological beliefs, including astral theology, among the inhabitants of the Tigris-Euphrates region. In summary, writers like Winckler, Stücken, and Jeremias argued that early Babylonian religion was heavily based on astrology, and that their thinking was deeply influenced by it. They believed that these people likely made astronomical observations and gained knowledge early on, which was lost during the decline of their culture. On the other hand, scholars such as Kugler, Bezold, Boll, and Schiaparelli have pointed out the lack of concrete evidence for any significant astronomical knowledge or astrological theory in the Tigris-Euphrates Valley until the later emergence of the Chaldeans. Some even dispute that the seven planets were recognized in that early period, let alone the signs of the zodiac or the planetary week, which, along with any genuine advancements in astronomy, is attributed to the Hellenistic period.[Pg 16]

The number seven in early Babylonia.

Yet the prominence of the number seven in myth, religion, and magic is indisputable in the third millennium before our era. For instance, in the old Babylonian epic of creation there are seven winds, seven spirits of storms, seven evil diseases, seven divisions of the underworld closed by seven doors, seven zones of the upper world and sky, and so on. We are told, however, that the staged towers of Babylonia, which are said to have symbolized for millenniums the sacred Hebdomad, did not always have seven stages.[60] But the number seven was undoubtedly of frequent occurrence, of a sacred and mystic character, and virtue and perfection were ascribed to it. And no one has succeeded in giving any satisfactory explanation for this other than the rule of the seven planets over our world. This also applies to the sanctity of the number seven in the Old Testament[61] and the emphasis upon it in Hesiod, the Odyssey, and other early Greek sources.[62]

Yet the significance of the number seven in mythology, religion, and magic is undeniable in the third millennium BCE. For example, in the ancient Babylonian creation epic, there are seven winds, seven storm spirits, seven evil diseases, seven sections of the underworld closed by seven doors, seven realms of the upper world and sky, and so on. However, we're told that the stepped towers of Babylonia, which for millennia were thought to symbolize the sacred Hebdomad, didn't always have seven levels. But the number seven was definitely common, seen as sacred and mystical, associated with virtue and perfection. No one has really been able to provide a satisfactory explanation for this, other than the influence of the seven planets over our world. This also relates to the sanctity of the number seven in the Old Testament and its emphasis in Hesiod, the Odyssey, and other early Greek texts.

[Pg 17]

[Pg 17]

Incantation texts older than the astrological.

However that may be, the tendency prevailing at present is to regard astrology as a relatively late development introduced by the Semitic Chaldeans. Lenormant held that writing and magic were a Turanian or Sumerian (Accadian) contribution to Babylonian civilization, but that astronomy and astrology were Semitic innovations. Jastrow thinks that there was slight difference between the religion of Assyria and that of Babylonia, and that astral theology played a great part in both; but he grants that the older incantation texts are less influenced by this astral theology. L. W. King says, “Magic and divination bulk largely in the texts recovered, and in their case there is nothing to suggest an underlying astrological element.”[63]

However that may be, the dominant view right now is to see astrology as a relatively recent development brought in by the Semitic Chaldeans. Lenormant believed that writing and magic were contributions from the Turanian or Sumerian (Accadian) cultures to Babylonian civilization, but that astronomy and astrology were innovations made by the Semitic peoples. Jastrow thinks there was little difference between the religions of Assyria and Babylonia, and that astral theology played a significant role in both; however, he admits that the older incantation texts are less influenced by this astral theology. L. W. King says, “Magic and divination play a big role in the texts we’ve found, and in those cases, there’s nothing to suggest an underlying astrological element.”[63]

Other divination than astrology.

Whatever its date and origin, the magic literature may be classified in three main groups. There are the astrological texts in which the stars are looked upon as gods and predictions are made especially for the king.[64] Then there are the tablets connected with other methods of foretelling the future, especially liver divination, although interpretation of dreams, augury, and divination by mixing oil and water were also practiced.[65] Fossey has further noted the close connection of operative magic with divination among the Assyrians, and calls divination “the indispensable auxiliary of magic.” Many feats of magic imply a precedent knowledge of the future or begin by consultation of a diviner, or a favorable day and hour should be chosen for the magic rite.[66]

Whatever its date and origin, the literature on magic can be categorized into three main groups. The first group consists of astrological texts that view the stars as gods and make predictions specifically for the king.[64] The second group includes tablets related to other methods of predicting the future, particularly liver divination, although dream interpretation, augury, and divination by mixing oil and water were also common practices.[65] Fossey has further noted the close link between operative magic and divination among the Assyrians, describing divination as “the essential support of magic.” Many magical acts imply a prior knowledge of the future or start with consulting a diviner, and a favorable day and time should be selected for the magical rite.[66]

Incantations against sorcery and demons.

Third, there are the collections of incantations, not however those employed by the sorcerers, which were pre[Pg 18]sumably illicit and hence not publicly preserved—in an incantation which we shall soon quote sorcery is called evil and is said to employ “impure things”—but rather defensive measures against them and exorcisms of evil demons.[67] But doubtless this counter magic reflects the original procedure to a great extent. Inasmuch as diseases generally were regarded as due to demons, who had to be exorcized by incantations, medicine was simply a branch of magic. Evil spirits were also held responsible for disturbances in nature, and frequent incantations were thought necessary to keep them from upsetting the natural order entirely.[68] The various incantations are arranged in series of tablets: the Maklu or burning, Ti’i or headaches, Asakki marsûti or fever, Labartu or hag-demon, and Nis kati or raising of the hand. Besides these tablets there are numerous ceremonial and medical texts which contain magical practice.[69] Also hymns of praise and religious epics which at first sight one would not classify as incantations seem to have had their magical uses, and Farnell suggests that “a magic origin for the practice of theological exegesis may be obscurely traced.”[70] Good spirits are represented as employing magic and exorcisms against the demons.[71] As a last resort when good spirits as well as human magic had failed to check the demons, the aid might be requisitioned of the god Ea, regarded as the repository of all science and who “alone was possessed of the magic secrets by means of which they could be conquered and repulsed.”[72]

Third, there are collections of spells, not those used by sorcerers, which were probably considered illegal and thus not kept public—within a spell we’ll quote soon, sorcery is labeled as evil and described as using “impure things”—but instead, these are protective measures against them and exorcisms of evil demons.[67] However, this counter magic likely reflects the original practices to a large extent. Since diseases were generally thought to be caused by demons that needed to be exorcised through spells, medicine was essentially a branch of magic. Evil spirits were also believed to be responsible for disturbances in nature, and regular spells were considered necessary to prevent them from completely disrupting the natural order.[68] The various spells are organized in series of tablets: the Maklu or burning, Ti’i or headaches, Asakki marsûti or fever, Labartu or hag-demon, and Nis kati or raising of the hand. In addition to these tablets, there are many ceremonial and medical texts that include magical practices.[69] Also, hymns of praise and religious epics that might not immediately seem like spells also appear to have had magical uses, and Farnell suggests that “a magic origin for the practice of theological exegesis may be obscurely traced.”[70] Good spirits are depicted as using magic and exorcisms against the demons.[71] As a last resort, when good spirits and human magic had both failed to stop the demons, help could be sought from the god Ea, considered the keeper of all knowledge, who “alone possessed the magical secrets that could conquer and repel them.”[72]

A specimen incantation.

The incantations themselves show that other factors than the power of words entered into the magic, as may be illustrated by quoting one of them.

The spells themselves indicate that more than just the power of words was involved in the magic, as can be demonstrated by quoting one of them.

“Arise ye great gods, hear my complaint,
Grant me justice, take cognizance of my condition.
I have made an image of my sorcerer and sorceress;
[Pg 19]
I have humbled myself before you and bring to you my cause,
Because of the evil they have done,
Of the impure things which they have handled.
May she die! Let me live!
May her charm, her witchcraft, her sorcery be broken.
May the plucked sprig of the binu tree purify me;
May it release me; may the evil odor of my mouth be scattered to the winds.
May the mashtakal herb which fills the earth cleanse me.
Before you let me shine like the kankal herb,
Let me be brilliant and pure as the lardu herb.
The charm of the sorceress is evil;
May her words return to her mouth, her tongue be cut off.
Because of her witchcraft may the gods of night smite her,
The three watches of the night break her evil charm.
May her mouth be wax; her tongue, honey.
May the word causing my misfortune that she has spoken dissolve like wax.
May the charm she had wound up melt like honey,
So that her magic knot be cut in twain, her work destroyed.”[73]
Materials and devices employed in the magic.

It is evident from this incantation that use was made of magic images and knots, and of the properties of trees and herbs. Magic images were made of clay, wax, tallow, and other substances and were employed in various ways. Thus directions are given for making a tallow image of an enemy of the king and binding its face with a cord in order to deprive the person whom it represents of speech and willpower.[74] Images were also constructed in order that disease demons might be magically transferred into them,[75] and sometimes the images are slain and buried.[76] In the above incantation the magic knot was employed only by the sorceress, but Fossey states that knots were also used as[Pg 20] counter-charms against the demons.[77] In the above incantation the names of herbs were left untranslated and it is not possible to say much concerning the pharmacy of the Assyrians and Babylonians because of our lack of a lexicon for their botanical and mineralogical terminology.[78] However, from what scholars have been able to translate it appears that common rather than rare and outlandish substances were the ones most employed. Wine and oil, salt and dates, and onions and saliva are the sort of things used. There is also evidence of the employment of a magic wand.[79] Gems and animal substances were used as well as herbs; all sorts of philters were concocted; and varied rites and ceremonies were employed such as ablutions and fumigations. In the account of the ark of the Babylonian Noah we are told of the magic significance of its various parts; thus the mast and cabin ceiling were made of cedar, a wood that counteracts sorceries.[80]

It’s clear from this incantation that magic images and knots were used, along with the properties of trees and herbs. Magic images made of clay, wax, tallow, and other materials were used in various ways. For example, there are instructions for creating a tallow figure of an enemy of the king and binding its face with a cord to deprive the person it represents of speech and willpower.[74] Images were also made to magically transfer disease demons into them,[75] and sometimes these images were killed and buried.[76] In the incantation above, the magic knot was only used by the sorceress, but Fossey mentions that knots were also utilized as[Pg 20] counter-charms against demons.[77] In the incantation above, the names of herbs were left untranslated, and we can’t say much about the pharmacy of the Assyrians and Babylonians due to our lack of a lexicon for their botanical and mineral terminology.[78] However, from what scholars have been able to translate, it seems that common substances, rather than rare or exotic ones, were primarily used. Items such as wine and oil, salt and dates, and onions and saliva were utilized. There’s also evidence of magic wands being used.[79] Gems and animal materials were used alongside herbs; all sorts of philters were created; and various rites and ceremonies were performed, including ablutions and fumigations. In the story of the ark of the Babylonian Noah, the magical significance of its various parts is highlighted; for instance, the mast and cabin ceiling were made of cedar, a wood that offsets sorcery.[80]

Greek culture not free from magic.

One remarkable corollary of the so-called Italian Renaissance or Humanistic movement at the close of the middle ages with its too exclusive glorification of ancient Greece and Rome has been the strange notion that the ancient Hellenes were unusually free from magic compared with other periods and peoples. It would have been too much to claim any such immunity for the primitive Romans, whose entire religion was originally little else than magic and whose daily life, public and private, was hedged in by superstitious observances and fears. But they, too, were supposed to have risen later under the influence of Hellenic culture to a more enlightened stage,[81] only to relapse again into magic in the declining empire and middle ages under oriental influence. Incidentally let me add that this notion that in the past orientals were more superstitious and fond of[Pg 21] marvels than westerners in the same stage of civilization and that the orient must needs be the source of every superstitious cult and romantic tale is a glib assumption which I do not intend to make and which our subsequent investigation will scarcely substantiate. But to return to the supposed immunity of the Hellenes from magic; so far has this hypothesis been carried that textual critics have repeatedly rejected passages as later interpolations or even called entire treatises spurious for no other reason than that they seemed to them too superstitious for a reputable classical author. Even so specialized and recent a student of ancient astrology, superstition, and religion as Cumont still clings to this dubious generalization and affirms that “the limpid Hellenic genius always turned away from the misty speculations of magic.”[82] But, as I suggested some sixteen years since, “the fantasticalness of medieval science was due to ‘the clear light of Hellas’ as well as to the gloom of the ‘dark ages.’”[83]

One notable outcome of the so-called Italian Renaissance or Humanistic movement at the end of the Middle Ages, which excessively praised ancient Greece and Rome, is the odd idea that the ancient Greeks were particularly free from magic compared to other cultures and times. It would be inaccurate to claim any such immunity for the primitive Romans, whose entire religion was largely comprised of magic and whose everyday lives, both public and private, were surrounded by superstitious practices and fears. However, they were also believed to have progressed later under the influence of Greek culture to a more enlightened state, only to fall back into magic during the declining empire and the Middle Ages due to Eastern influence. Incidentally, I should mention that the belief that in the past, Eastern cultures were more superstitious and fascinated by wonders than Westerners at the same level of civilization, and that the East must be the source of every superstitious belief and romantic story, is a simplistic assumption that I do not intend to support and which our further investigation will hardly prove. But returning to the alleged immunity of the Greeks from magic; this idea has been taken so far that textual critics have repeatedly dismissed passages as later additions or even labeled entire works as inauthentic solely because they seemed too superstitious for a respected classical author. Even a focused and modern scholar of ancient astrology, superstition, and religion like Cumont still holds onto this questionable generalization and claims that “the clear Hellenic spirit always turned away from the murky speculations of magic.” But, as I noted about sixteen years ago, “the fanciful nature of medieval science was due to ‘the clear light of Hellas’ as well as to the darkness of the ‘dark ages.’”

Magic in myth, literature, and history.

It is not difficult to call to mind evidence of the presence of magic in Hellenic religion, literature, and history. One has only to think of the many marvelous metamorphoses in Greek mythology and of its countless other absurdities; of the witches, Circe and Medea, and the necromancy of Odysseus; or the priest-magician of Apollo in the Iliad who could stop the plague, if he wished; of the lucky and unlucky days and other agricultural magic in Hesiod.[84] Then there were the Spartans, whose so-called constitution and method of education, much admired by the Greek philosophers, were largely a retention of the life of the primitive tribe with its ritual and taboos. Or we remember Herodotus and his childish delight in ambiguous oracles or his tale of seceders from Gela brought back by Telines single-handed because he “was possessed of certain mysterious visible symbols of the powers beneath the earth which were deemed to be of[Pg 22] wonder-working power.”[85] We recall Xenophon’s punctilious records of sacrifices, divinations, sneezes, and dreams; Nicias, as afraid of eclipses as if he had been a Spartan; and the matter-of-fact mentions of charms, philters, and incantations in even such enlightened writers as Euripides and Plato. Among the titles of ancient Greek comedies magic is represented by the Goetes of Aristophanes, the Mandragorizomene of Alexis, the Pharmacomantis of Anaxandrides, the Circe of Anaxilas, and the Thettale of Menander.[86] When we candidly estimate the significance of such evidence as this, we realize that the Hellenes were not much less inclined to magic than other peoples and periods, and that we need not wait for Theocritus and the Greek romances or for the magical papyri for proof of the existence of magic in ancient Greek civilization.[87]

It's easy to recall examples of magic in Greek religion, literature, and history. Just think about the many incredible transformations in Greek mythology and its countless other ridiculous stories; like the witches, Circe and Medea, and Odysseus's necromancy; or the priest-magician of Apollo in the Iliad who could end the plague if he wanted to; about the lucky and unlucky days and various forms of agricultural magic in Hesiod.[84] Then there were the Spartans, whose so-called constitution and education system, highly praised by Greek philosophers, largely reflected the life of primitive tribes with their rituals and taboos. Or we recall Herodotus and his childlike fascination with cryptic oracles or his story of those who seceded from Gela, brought back by Telines alone because he “possessed certain mysterious visible symbols of the powers beneath the earth that were believed to have[Pg 22] miraculous power.”[85] We remember Xenophon’s detailed accounts of sacrifices, divinations, sneezes, and dreams; Nicias, terrified of eclipses just like a Spartan; and the straightforward mentions of charms, potions, and incantations in even the more enlightened writers like Euripides and Plato. Among the titles of ancient Greek comedies, magic appears in the Goetes of Aristophanes, the Mandragorizomene of Alexis, the Pharmacomantis of Anaxandrides, the Circe of Anaxilas, and the Thettale of Menander.[86] When we honestly evaluate the importance of such evidence, we realize that the Greeks were just as inclined to magic as other cultures and eras. We don't need to wait for Theocritus and the Greek romances or the magical papyri to find proof of the existence of magic in ancient Greek civilization.[87]

Simultaneous increase of learning and occult science.

If astrology and some other occult sciences do not appear in a developed form until the Hellenistic period, it is not because the earlier period was more enlightened, but because it was less learned. And the magic which Osthanes is said to have introduced to the Greek world about the time of the Persian wars was not so much an innovation as an improvement upon their coarse and ancient rites of Goetia.[88]

If astrology and certain other mystical sciences didn't fully develop until the Hellenistic period, it's not because the earlier era was more enlightened, but rather because it was less knowledgeable. The magic that Osthanes is said to have brought to the Greek world around the time of the Persian wars wasn’t really a new idea; it was more of an enhancement of their rough and ancient practices of Goetia.[88]

Magic origin urged for Greek religion and drama.

This magic element which existed from the start in Greek culture is now being traced out by students of anthropology and early religion as well as of the classics. Miss Jane E. Harrison, in Themis, a study of the social origins of Greek religion, suggests a magical explanation for many a myth and festival, and even for the Olympic games and Greek drama.[89] The last point has been developed in more[Pg 23] detail by F. M. Cornford’s Origin of Attic Comedy, where much magic is detected masquerading in the comedies of Aristophanes.[90] And Mr. A. B. Cook sees the magician in Zeus, who transforms himself to pursue his amours, and contends that “the real prototype of the heavenly weather-king was the earthly” magician or rain-maker, that the pre-Homeric “fixed epithets” of Zeus retained in the Homeric poems “are simply redolent of the magician,” and that the cult of Zeus Lykaios was connected with the belief in werwolves.[91] In still more recent publications Dr. Rendel Harris[92] has connected Greek gods in their origins with the woodpecker and mistletoe, associated the cult of Apollo with the medicinal virtues of mice and snakes, and in other ways emphasized the importance in early Greek religion and culture of the magic properties of animals and herbs.

This magical element that has been present since the beginning in Greek culture is now being explored by students of anthropology, early religions, and classics. Miss Jane E. Harrison, in Themis, a study of the social origins of Greek religion, proposes a magical explanation for many myths and festivals, including the Olympic Games and Greek drama.[89] The latter point has been elaborated on further in F. M. Cornford’s Origin of Attic Comedy, where a significant amount of magic is found hiding in the comedies of Aristophanes.[90] Mr. A. B. Cook identifies the magician in Zeus, who morphs into different forms to pursue his romantic interests, and argues that “the true model of the heavenly weather-king was the earthly” magician or rain-maker. He suggests that the pre-Homeric “fixed epithets” of Zeus, preserved in the Homeric poems, “are simply full of the magician,” and that the worship of Zeus Lykaios was linked with the belief in werewolves.[91] In more recent works, Dr. Rendel Harris[92] has connected Greek gods in their origins with the woodpecker and mistletoe, linked the worship of Apollo with the healing properties of mice and snakes, and emphasized the significance of the magical qualities of animals and herbs in early Greek religion and culture.

These writers have probably pressed their point too far, but at least their work serves as a reaction against the old attitude of intellectual idolatry of the classics. Their views may be offset by those of Mr. Farnell, who states that “while the knowledge of early Babylonian magic is beginning to be considerable, we cannot say that we know anything definite concerning the practices in this department of the Hellenic and adjacent peoples in the early period with which we are dealing.” And again, “But while Babylonian magic proclaims itself loudly in the great religious literature and highest temple ritual, Greek magic is barely mentioned in the older literature of Greece, plays no part at all in the hymns, and can only with difficulty be discovered as latent in the higher ritual. Again, Babylonian[Pg 24] magic is essentially demoniac; but we have no evidence that the pre-Homeric Greek was demon-ridden, or that demonology and exorcism were leading factors in his consciousness and practice.” Even Mr. Farnell admits, however, that “the earliest Hellene, as the later, was fully sensitive to the magico-divine efficacy of names.”[93] Now to believe in the power of names before one believes in the existence of demons is the best possible evidence of the antiquity of magic in a society, since it indicates that the speaker has confidence in the operative power of his own words without any spiritual or divine assistance.

These writers might have taken their argument too far, but their work at least reacts against the old belief in the intellectual superiority of the classics. Their perspective can be balanced by Mr. Farnell's, who says, “While we’re starting to understand a significant amount about early Babylonian magic, we can’t claim to know anything definitive about the practices of the Hellenic and surrounding cultures in the early period we’re discussing.” He also comments, “While Babylonian magic is prominently featured in major religious texts and important temple rituals, Greek magic is hardly mentioned in ancient Greek literature, doesn’t appear at all in hymns, and is only subtly present in higher rituals. Furthermore, Babylonian magic is fundamentally demonic; however, we have no evidence that pre-Homeric Greeks were obsessed with demons, or that demonology and exorcism played major roles in their beliefs and practices.” Still, Mr. Farnell acknowledges that “the earliest Greeks, like the later ones, were very aware of the magical and divine power of names.” To believe in the power of names before believing in the existence of demons is strong evidence of the ancient roots of magic in a society, as it shows that the speaker trusts in the power of their own words without any spiritual or divine help.

Magic in Greek philosophy.

Moreover, in one sense the advocates of Greek magic have not gone far enough. They hold that magic lies back of the comedies of Aristophanes; what they might contend is that it was also contemporary with them.[94] They hold that classical Greek religion had its origins in magic; what they might argue is that Greek philosophy never freed itself from magic. “That Empedocles believed himself capable of magical powers is,” says Zeller, “proved by his own writings.” He himself “declares that he possesses the power to heal old age and sickness, to raise and calm the winds, to summon rain and drought, and to recall the dead to life.”[95] If the pre-Homeric fixed epithets of Zeus are redolent of magic, Plato’s Timaeus is equally redolent of occult science and astrology; and if we see the weather-making magician in the Olympian Zeus of Phidias, we cannot explain away the vagaries of the Timaeus as flights of poetic imagination or try to make out Aristotle a modern scientist by mutilating the text of the History of Animals.

Moreover, in one way, supporters of Greek magic haven't gone far enough. They believe that magic underlies the comedies of Aristophanes; what they could argue is that it was also happening at the same time. They think classical Greek religion originated from magic; what they might contend is that Greek philosophy never completely separated from it. “That Empedocles thought he had magical powers is,” says Zeller, “shown by his own writings.” He himself “claims that he has the ability to heal old age and illness, to stir and calm the winds, to summon rain and drought, and to bring the dead back to life.” If the pre-Homeric fixed epithets of Zeus are full of magic, Plato’s Timaeus is just as full of occult knowledge and astrology; and if we see the weather-controlling magician in the Olympian Zeus of Phidias, we can't dismiss the oddities of the Timaeus as mere flights of poetic fancy or try to present Aristotle as a modern scientist by twisting the text of the History of Animals.

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Plato’s attitude toward magic and astrology.

Toward magic so-called Plato’s attitude in his Laws is cautious. He maintains that medical men and prophets and diviners can alone understand the nature of poisons (or spells) which work naturally, and of such things as incantations, magic knots, and wax images; and that since other men have no certain knowledge of such matters, they ought not to fear but to despise them. He admits nevertheless that there is no use in trying to convince most men of this and that it is necessary to legislate against sorcery.[96] Yet his own view of nature seems impregnated, if not actually with doctrines borrowed from the Magi of the east, at least with notions cognate to those of magic rather than of modern science and with doctrines favorable to astrology. He humanized material objects and confused material and spiritual characteristics. He also, like authors of whom we shall treat later, attempted to give a natural or rational explanation for magic, accounting, for example, for liver divination on the ground that the liver was a sort of mirror on which the thoughts of the mind fell and in which the images of the soul were reflected; but that they ceased after death.[97] He spoke of harmonious love between the elements as the source of health and plenty for vegetation, beasts, and men, and their “wanton love” as the cause of pestilence and disease. To understand both varieties of love “in relation to the revolutions of the heavenly bodies and the seasons of the year is termed astronomy,”[98] or, as we should say, astrology, whose fundamental law is the control of inferior creation by the motion of the stars. Plato spoke of the stars as “divine and eternal animals, ever abiding,”[99] an expression which we shall hear reiterated in the middle ages. “The lower gods,” whom he largely identified with the heavenly bodies, form men, who, if they live good lives, return after death each to a happy existence in his proper star.[100] Such a doctrine is not identical with that of nativities[Pg 26] and the horoscope, but like it exalts the importance of the stars and suggests their control of human life. And when at the close of his Republic Plato speaks of the harmony or music of the spheres of the seven planets and the eighth sphere of the fixed stars, and of “the spindle of Necessity on which all the revolutions turn,” he suggests that when once the human soul has entered upon this life, its destiny is henceforth subject to the courses of the stars. When in the Timaeus he says, “There is no difficulty in seeing that the perfect number of time fulfills the perfect year when all the eight revolutions ... are accomplished together and attain their completion at the same time,”[101] he seems to suggest the astrological doctrine of the magnus annus, that history begins to repeat itself in every detail when the heavenly bodies have all regained their original positions.

Plato’s take on magic in his Laws is pretty cautious. He argues that only doctors, prophets, and diviners truly understand the nature of poisons (or spells) that occur naturally, as well as things like incantations, magic knots, and wax figures. Since others don’t have reliable knowledge about these matters, they shouldn’t fear them but rather look down on them. Still, he admits that trying to convince most people of this is pointless, and it’s necessary to create laws against sorcery.[96] Yet, his view of nature seems influenced, if not directly from the Magi of the East, at least by ideas similar to magic rather than modern science, and is sympathetic to astrology. He personalized physical things and blurred the lines between physical and spiritual qualities. Like some authors we’ll discuss later, he tried to give a natural or logical explanation for magic, suggesting, for example, that liver divination worked because the liver acted as a sort of mirror reflecting the mind’s thoughts and the soul's images; though this stopped after death.[97] He discussed a harmonious love among the elements as the source of health and abundance for plants, animals, and humans, and their “uninhibited love” as the cause of disease and plague. Understanding both kinds of love “in relation to the movements of the heavenly bodies and the seasons of the year is called astronomy,”[98] which we would refer to as astrology, whose core principle is that the stars govern earthly matters. Plato described the stars as “divine and eternal beings, always existing,”[99] a phrase we’ll see echoed in the Middle Ages. He referred to “lower gods,” which he mostly equated with the celestial bodies, forming humans who, if they live virtuous lives, return after death to a joyful existence in their designated star.[100] This belief isn’t entirely the same as the ideas around nativities and horoscopes, but it emphasizes the stars’ significance and implies their influence on human life. And when at the end of his Republic Plato talks about the harmony or music of the spheres of the seven planets and the eighth sphere of the fixed stars, along with “the spindle of Necessity on which all the revolutions turn,” he implies that once a human soul enters this life, its fate is then determined by the stars. In the Timaeus, he states, “There is no difficulty in seeing that the perfect number of time fulfills the perfect year when all the eight revolutions ... are completed together and reach their end at the same time,”[101] suggesting the astrological idea of the magnus annus, where history starts to repeat itself in every detail once the celestial bodies are back in their original positions.

Aristotle on stars and spirits.

For Aristotle, too, the stars were “beings of superhuman intelligence, incorporate deities. They appeared to him as the purer forms, those more like the deity, and from them a purposive rational influence upon the lower life of the earth seemed to proceed,—a thought which became the root of medieval astrology.”[102] Moreover, “his theory of the subordinate gods of the spheres of the planets ... provided for a later demonology.”[103]

For Aristotle, the stars were also “beings of superhuman intelligence, incorporeal deities. He saw them as the purest forms, more similar to the divine, and from them, a purposeful rational influence on the lower life of Earth seemed to flow—which became the foundation of medieval astrology.”[102] Furthermore, “his theory of the subordinate gods of the spheres of the planets ... laid the groundwork for a later demonology.”[103]

Folk-lore in the History of Animals.

Aside from bits of physiognomy and of Pythagorean superstition, or mysticism, Aristotle’s History of Animals contains much on the influence of the stars on animal life, the medicines employed by animals, and their friendships and enmities, and other folk-lore and pseudo-science.[104] But[Pg 27] the oldest extant manuscript of that work dates only from the twelfth or thirteenth century and lacks the tenth book. Editors of the text have also rejected books seven and nine, the latter part of book eight, and have questioned various other passages. However, these expurgations save the face of Aristotle rather than of Hellenic science or philosophy generally, as the spurious seventh book is held to be drawn largely from Hippocratic writings and the ninth from Theophrastus.[105]

Aside from some elements of facial features and Pythagorean superstition or mysticism, Aristotle’s History of Animals includes a lot about how stars affect animal life, the medicines animals use, their friendships and rivalries, and other folklore and pseudo-science.[104] But[Pg 27] the oldest surviving manuscript of that work dates back only to the twelfth or thirteenth century and is missing the tenth book. Editors have also excluded books seven and nine, part of book eight, and raised questions about various other passages. However, these omissions protect Aristotle's reputation rather than that of Hellenic science or philosophy as a whole, since the questionable seventh book is believed to be largely based on Hippocratic writings and the ninth from Theophrastus.[105]

Differing modes of transmission of ancient oriental and Greek literature.

There is another point to be kept in mind in any comparison of Egypt and Babylon or Assyria with Greece in the matter of magic. Our evidence proving the great part played by magic in the ancient oriental civilizations comes directly from them to us without intervening tampering or alteration except in the case of the early periods. But classical literature and philosophy come to us as edited by Alexandrian librarians[106] and philologers, as censored and selected by Christian and Byzantine readers, as copied or translated by medieval monks and Italian humanists. And the question is not merely, what have they added? but also, what have they altered? what have they rejected? Instead of questioning superstitious passages in extant works on the ground that they are later interpolations, it would very likely be more to the point to insert a goodly number on the ground that they have been omitted as pagan or idolatrous superstitions.

There’s another thing to consider when comparing Egypt and Babylon or Assyria with Greece regarding magic. Our evidence showing the significant role of magic in ancient Oriental civilizations comes to us directly from them, without any tampering or changes, except for the early periods. However, classical literature and philosophy come to us edited by Alexandrian librarians[106] and scholars, censored and chosen by Christian and Byzantine readers, as well as copied or translated by medieval monks and Renaissance humanists. The question isn’t just about what they added; it’s also about what they changed and what they left out. Instead of questioning superstitious passages in existing works as later additions, it might be more relevant to include a considerable number of them because they were removed as pagan or idolatrous superstitions.

More magical character of directly transmitted Greek remains.

Suppose we turn to those writings which have been unearthed just as they were in ancient Greek; to the papyri, the lead tablets, the so-called Gnostic gems. How does the proportion of magic in these compare with that in the indirectly transmitted literary remains? If it is objected that the magic papyri[107] are mainly of late date and that[Pg 28] they are found in Egypt, it may be replied that they are as old as or older than any other manuscripts we have of classical literature and that its chief storehouse, too, was in Egypt at Alexandria. As for the magical curses written on lead tablets,[108] they date from the fourth century before our era to the sixth after, and fourteen come from Athens and sixteen from Cnidus as against one from Alexandria and eleven from Carthage. And although some display extreme illiteracy, others are written by persons of rank and education. And what a wealth of astrological manuscripts in the Greek language has been unearthed in European libraries by the editors of the Catalogus Codicum Graecorum Astrologorum![109] And occasionally archaeologists report the discovery of magical apparatus[110] or of representations of magic in works of art.

Suppose we look at those writings that have been uncovered just as they were in ancient Greek; the papyri, the lead tablets, the so-called Gnostic gems. How does the amount of magic in these compare with that in the indirectly passed down literary remains? If someone argues that the magic papyri[107] are mostly from a later date and that[Pg 28] they were found in Egypt, it can be pointed out that they are as old as or older than any other manuscripts we have of classical literature, and that Egypt, particularly Alexandria, was its major repository. As for the magical curses written on lead tablets,[108] they date from the fourth century BCE to the sixth CE, and we find fourteen from Athens and sixteen from Cnidus, versus one from Alexandria and eleven from Carthage. While some show extreme illiteracy, others are composed by individuals of rank and education. And what a wealth of astrological manuscripts in Greek has been discovered in European libraries by the editors of the Catalogus Codicum Graecorum Astrologorum![109] Occasionally, archaeologists also report the finding of magical tools[110] or depictions of magic in artworks.

Progress of science among the Greeks.

In thus contending that Hellenic culture was not free from magic and that even the philosophy and science of the ancient Greeks show traces of superstition, I would not, however, obscure the fact that of extant literary remains the Greek are the first to present us with any very considerable body either of systematic rational speculation or of classified collection of observed facts concerning nature. Despite the rapid progress in recent years in knowledge of prehistoric man and Egyptian and Babylonian civilization, the Hellenic[Pg 29] title to the primacy in philosophy and science has hardly been called in question, and no earlier works have been discovered that can compare in medicine with those ascribed to Hippocrates, in biology with those of Aristotle and Theophrastus, or in mathematics and physics with those of Euclid and Archimedes. Undoubtedly such men and writings had their predecessors, probably they owed something to ancient oriental civilization, but, taking them as we have them, they seem to be marked by great original power. Whatever may lie concealed beneath the surface of the past, or whatever signs or hints of scientific investigation and knowledge we may think we can detect and read between the lines, as it were, in other phases of older civilizations, in these works solid beginnings of experimental and mathematical science stand unmistakably forth.

In arguing that Greek culture wasn't free from magic and that even the philosophy and science of the ancient Greeks show signs of superstition, I don't want to ignore the fact that the existing literary works from the Greeks are the first to provide us with a significant body of systematic rational thought or a classified collection of observed facts about nature. Even with the rapid advancements in our understanding of prehistoric humans and Egyptian and Babylonian civilizations, the Greeks' claim to being the leaders in philosophy and science hasn't really been challenged, and no earlier writings have been found that can compare in medicine to those attributed to Hippocrates, in biology to those by Aristotle and Theophrastus, or in mathematics and physics to those by Euclid and Archimedes. It's clear that these thinkers and their works had predecessors and likely drew some influence from ancient Eastern civilizations, but based on what we have, they appear to be characterized by remarkable originality. No matter what might be hidden beneath the surface of the past or what signs or hints of scientific inquiry we think we can find between the lines in other parts of older civilizations, these works distinctly represent solid beginnings of experimental and mathematical science.

Archimedes and Aristotle.

“An extraordinarily large proportion of the subject matter of the writings of Archimedes,” says Heath, “represents entirely new discoveries of his own. Though his range of subjects was almost encyclopædic, embracing geometry (plane and solid), arithmetic, mechanics, hydrostatics and astronomy, he was no compiler, no writer of text-books.... His objective is always some new thing, some definite addition to the sum of knowledge, and his complete originality cannot fail to strike anyone who reads his works intelligently, without any corroborative evidence such as is found in the introductory letters prefixed to most of them.... In some of his subjects Archimedes had no forerunners, e. g., in hydrostatics, where he invented the whole science, and (so far as mathematical demonstration was concerned) in his mechanical investigations.”[111] Aristotle’s History of Animals is still highly esteemed by historians of biology[112] and often evidences “a large amount of personal[Pg 30] observations,”[113] “great accuracy,” and “minute inquiry,” as in his account of the vascular system[114] or observations on the embryology of the chick.[115] “Most wonderful of all, perhaps, are those portions of his book in which he speaks of fishes, their diversities, their structure, their wanderings, and their food. Here we may read of fishes that have only recently been rediscovered, of structures only lately reinvestigated, of habits only of late made known.”[116] But of the achievements of Hellenic philosophy and Hellenistic science the reader may be safely assumed already to have some notion.

“An incredibly large portion of what Archimedes wrote,” says Heath, “consists of completely new discoveries he made himself. Even though his topics were almost encyclopedic, covering geometry (both plane and solid), arithmetic, mechanics, hydrostatics, and astronomy, he wasn't just a compiler or a textbook writer.... His aim is always something innovative, a clear addition to the body of knowledge, and his total originality is obvious to anyone who reads his works thoughtfully, without needing the supporting evidence often provided in the introductory letters that come with most of them.... In some areas, Archimedes had no predecessors, e.g., in hydrostatics, where he created the entire science, and (at least as far as mathematical proof goes) in his mechanical studies.”[111] Aristotle’s History of Animals is still highly regarded by historians of biology[112] and often shows “a significant amount of personal[Pg 30] observations,”[113] “great accuracy,” and “detailed inquiry,” as seen in his description of the vascular system[114] or his observations on the embryology of the chick.[115] “Perhaps most astonishing of all are those sections of his book where he talks about fish, their varieties, their structures, their migrations, and their diets. Here, we can read about fish that have only recently been rediscovered, about structures that have just been reexamined, and about behaviors that have only recently come to light.”[116] But regarding the accomplishments of Hellenic philosophy and Hellenistic science, the reader can be assumed to have some understanding already.

Exaggerated view of the scientific achievement of the Hellenistic age.

But in closing this brief preliminary sketch of the period before our investigation proper begins, I would take exception to the tendency, prevalent especially among German scholars, to center in and confine to Aristotle and the Hellenistic age almost all progress in natural science made before modern times. The contributions of the Egyptians and Babylonians are reduced to a minimum on the one hand, while on the other the scientific writings of the Roman[Pg 31] Empire, which are extant in far greater abundance than those of the Hellenistic period, are regarded as inferior imitations of great authors whose works are not extant; Posidonius, for example, to whom it has been the fashion of the writers of German dissertations to attribute this, that, and every theory in later writers. But it is contrary to the law of gradual and painful acquisition of scientific knowledge and improvement of scientific method that one period of a few centuries should thus have discovered everything. We have disputed the similar notion of a golden age of early Egyptian science from which the Middle and New Kingdoms declined, and have not held that either the Egyptians or Babylonians had made great advances in science before the Greeks. But that is not saying that they had not made some advance. As Professor Karpinski has recently written:

But as I wrap up this brief overview of the period before we dive into our actual investigation, I want to challenge the trend, especially among German scholars, to focus almost entirely on Aristotle and the Hellenistic age as the sole sources of progress in natural science before modern times. The contributions from the Egyptians and Babylonians are minimized, while the scientific writings of the Roman Empire, which are actually more abundant than those from the Hellenistic period, are dismissed as inferior copies of great authors whose works are lost; for instance, Posidonius is often credited by German dissertation writers with various theories attributed to later authors. However, it defies the reality of the gradual and challenging development of scientific knowledge and methods to claim that one few-century period discovered everything. We've already argued against the idea of a golden age of early Egyptian science from which later periods declined, and we don’t believe that either the Egyptians or Babylonians had made significant scientific advancements before the Greeks. But that doesn’t mean they made no progress at all. As Professor Karpinski recently stated:

“To deny to Babylon, to Egypt, and to India, their part in the development of science and scientific thinking is to defy the testimony of the ancients, supported by the discoveries of the modern authorities. The efforts which have been made to ascribe to Greek influence the science of Egypt, of later Babylon, of India, and that of the Arabs do not add to the glory that was Greece. How could the Babylonians of the golden age of Greece or the Hindus, a little later, have taken over the developments of Greek astronomy? This would only have been possible if they had arrived at a state of development in astronomy which would have enabled them properly to estimate and appreciate the work which was to be absorbed.... The admission that the Greek astronomy immediately affected the astronomical theories of India carries with it the implication that this science had attained somewhat the same level in India as in Greece. Without serious questioning we may assume that a fundamental part of the science of Babylon and Egypt and India, developed during the times which we think of as Greek, was indigenous science.”[117]

“Denying Babylon, Egypt, and India their role in the advancement of science and scientific thought ignores the evidence from ancient times, backed by modern discoveries. The attempts to credit Greek influence for the science of Egypt, later Babylon, India, and the Arabs don’t enhance Greece's greatness. How could the Babylonians during Greece's golden age or the Hindus shortly after have adopted the advancements of Greek astronomy? This would only have been possible if they had already reached a level of development in astronomy that allowed them to understand and appreciate the Greek contributions.... Acknowledging that Greek astronomy influenced the astronomical theories of India suggests that this science had reached a comparable level in India as it did in Greece. Without serious doubt, we can assume that a significant portion of the science from Babylon, Egypt, and India, developed during what we consider the Greek period, was original to those cultures.”[117]

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[Pg 32]

Nor am I ready to admit that the great scientists of the early Roman Empire merely copied from, or were distinctly inferior to, their Hellenistic predecessors. Aristarchus may have held the heliocentric theory[118] but Ptolemy must have been an abler scientist and have supported his incorrect hypothesis with more accurate measurements and calculations or the ancients would have adopted the sounder view. And if Herophilus had really demonstrated the circulation of the blood, so keen an intelligence as Galen’s would not have cast his discovery aside. And if Ptolemy copied Hipparchus, are we to imagine that Hipparchus copied from no one? But of the incessant tradition from authority to authority and yet of the gradual accumulation of new matter from personal observation and experience our ensuing survey of thirteen centuries of thought and writing will afford more detailed illustration.

Nor am I ready to admit that the great scientists of the early Roman Empire just copied from or were clearly inferior to their Hellenistic predecessors. Aristarchus may have held the heliocentric theory[118], but Ptolemy must have been a more skilled scientist and must have backed his incorrect hypothesis with more accurate measurements and calculations, or else the ancients would have adopted the sounder view. And if Herophilus really demonstrated the circulation of the blood, someone as intelligent as Galen wouldn’t have dismissed his discovery. And if Ptolemy copied Hipparchus, should we believe that Hipparchus didn’t copy from anyone? But the ongoing tradition from authority to authority and the gradual accumulation of new information from personal observation and experience will be illustrated in more detail in our upcoming survey of thirteen centuries of thought and writing.


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APPENDIX I
SOME WORKS ON MAGIC, RELIGION, AND ASTRONOMY IN BABYLONIA AND ASSYRIA

The following books deal expressly with the magic of Assyria and Babylonia:

The following books specifically focus on the magic of Assyria and Babylonia:

Fossey, C. La magie assyrienne; étude suivie de textes magiques, Paris, 1902.

Fossey, C. The Assyrian Magic; A Study with Follow-up on Magical Texts, Paris, 1902.

King, L. W. Babylonian Magic and Sorcery, being “The Prayers of the Lifting of the Hand,” London, 1896.

King, L. W. Babylonian Magic and Sorcery, titled “The Prayers of the Lifting of the Hand,” London, 1896.

Laurent, A. La magie et la divination chez les Chaldéo-Assyriens, Paris, 1894.

Laurent, A. Magic and divination among the Chaldeans and Assyrians, Paris, 1894.

Lenormant, F. Chaldean Magic and Sorcery, English translation, London, 1878.

Lenormant, F. Chaldean Magic and Sorcery, English translation, London, 1878.

Schwab, M., in Proc. Bibl. Archæology (1890), pp. 292-342, on magic bowls from Assyria and Babylonia.

Schwab, M., in Proc. Bibl. Archæology (1890), pp. 292-342, on magic bowls from Assyria and Babylonia.

Tallquist, K. L. Die Assyrische Beschwörungsserie Maqlû, Leipzig, 1895.

Tallquist, K. L. The Assyrian Exorcism Series Maqlû, Leipzig, 1895.

Thompson, R. C. The Reports of the Magicians and Astrologers of Nineveh and Babylon in the British Museum, London, 1900.
Texts and translations—all but three are astrological.
The Devils and Evil Spirits of Babylonia, London, 1904.
Semitic Magic, London, 1908.

Thompson, R. C. The Reports of the Magicians and Astrologers of Nineveh and Babylon in the British Museum, London, 1900.
Texts and translations—all except three are about astrology.
The Devils and Evil Spirits of Babylonia, London, 1904.
Semitic Magic, London, 1908.

Weber, O. Dämonenbeschwörung bei den Babyloniern und Assyrern, 1906. Eine Skizze (37 pp.), in Der Alte Orient.

Weber, O. Demon Exorcism among the Babylonians and Assyrians, 1906. An Outline (37 pp.), in The Ancient East.

Zimmern. Die Beschwörungstafeln Surpu.

Zimmern. The Surpu incantation tablets.

Much concerning magic will also be found in works on Babylonian and Assyrian religion.

Much about magic can also be found in writings on Babylonian and Assyrian religion.

Craig, J. A. Assyrian and Babylonian Religious Texts, Leipzig, 1895-7.

Craig, J. A. Assyrian and Babylonian Religious Texts, Leipzig, 1895-97.

Curtiss, S. I. Primitive Semitic Religion Today, 1902.

Curtiss, S. I. Primitive Semitic Religion Today, 1902.

Dhorme, P. Choix des textes religieux Assyriens Babyloniens, 1907.
La religion Assyro-Babylonienne, Paris, 1910.

Dhorme, P. Selection of Assyrian Babylonian Religious Texts, 1907.
Assyro-Babylonian Religion, Paris, 1910.

Gray, C. D. The Samas Religious Texts.

Gray, C. D. The Samas Religious Texts.

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Jastrow, Morris. The Religion of Babylonia and Assyria, Boston, 1898. Revised and enlarged as Religion Babyloniens und Assyriens, Giessen, 1904.

Jastrow, Morris. The Religion of Babylonia and Assyria, Boston, 1898. Revised and expanded as Religion Babyloniens und Assyriens, Giessen, 1904.

Jeremias. Babylon. Assyr. Vorstellungen von dem Leben nach Tode, Leipzig, 1887.
Hölle und Paradies, and other works.

Jeremias. Babylon. Assyr. Ideas about Life After Death, Leipzig, 1887.
Hell and Paradise, and other works.

Knudtzon, J. A. Assyrische Gebete an den Sonnengott, Leipzig, 1893.

Knudtzon, J. A. Assyrian Prayers to the Sun God, Leipzig, 1893.

Lagrange, M. J. Études sur les religions sémitiques, Paris, 1905.

Lagrange, M. J. Studies on Semitic Religions, Paris, 1905.

Langdon, S. Sumerian and Babylonian Psalms, Paris, 1909.

Langdon, S. Sumerian and Babylonian Psalms, Paris, 1909.

Reisner, G. A. Sumerisch-Babylonische Hymnen, Berlin, 1896.

Reisner, G. A. Sumerian-Babylonian Hymns, Berlin, 1896.

Robertson Smith, W. Lectures on the Religion of the Semites, London, 1907.

Robertson Smith, W. Lectures on the Religion of the Semites, London, 1907.

Roscher, Lexicon, for various articles.

Roscher, Lexicon, for different articles.

Zimmern. Babylonische Hymnen und Gebete in Auswahl, 32 pp., 1905 (Der Alte Orient).
Beiträge zur Kenntniss der Babyl. Religion, Leipzig, 1901.

Zimmern. Babylonian Hymns and Prayers in Selection, 32 pp., 1905 (The Ancient East).
Contributions to the Knowledge of Babylonian Religion, Leipzig, 1901.

On the astronomy and astrology of the Babylonians one may consult:

On the astronomy and astrology of the Babylonians, you can check:

Bezold, C. Astronomie, Himmelschau und Astrallehre bei den Babyloniern. (Sitzb. Akad. Heidelberg, 1911, Abh. 2).

Bezold, C. Astronomy, Sky Observation, and Astral Theory among the Babylonians. (Sitzb. Akad. Heidelberg, 1911, Abh. 2).

Boissier, A. Documents assyriens relatifs aux présages, Paris, 1894-1897.
Choix de textes relatifs à la divination assyro-babylonienne, Geneva, 1905-1906.

Boissier, A. Assyrian Documents on Omens, Paris, 1894-1897.
Selection of Texts on Assyro-Babylonian Divination, Geneva, 1905-1906.

Craig, J. A. Astrological-Astronomical Texts, Leipzig, 1892.

Craig, J. A. Astrological-Astronomical Texts, Leipzig, 1892.

Cumont, F. Babylon und die griechische Astrologie. (Neue Jahrb. für das klass. Altertum, XXVII, 1911).

Cumont, F. Babylon and Greek Astrology. (New Yearbook for Classical Antiquity, XXVII, 1911).

Epping, J., and Strassmeier, J. N. Astronomisches aus Babylon, 1889.

Epping, J., and Strassmeier, J. N. Astronomy from Babylon, 1889.

Ginzel, F. K. Die astronomischen Kentnisse der Babylonier, 1901.

Ginzel, F. K. The Astronomical Knowledge of the Babylonians, 1901.

Hehn, J. Siebenzahl und Sabbat bei den Babyloniern und im Alten Testament, 1907.

Hehn, J. Numbers and Sabbath in the Babylonians and the Old Testament, 1907.

Jensen, P. Kosmologie der Babylonier, 1890.

Jensen, P. The Cosmology of the Babylonians, 1890.

Jeremias. Das Alter der babylonischen Astronomie, 1908.
Handbuch der altorientalischen Geisteskultur, 1913.

Jeremias. The Age of Babylonian Astronomy, 1908.
Handbook of Ancient Near Eastern Intellectual Culture, 1913.

Kugler, F. X. Die Babylonische Mondrechnung, 1900.
Sternkunde und Sterndienst in Babel, Freiburg, 1907-1913. To be completed in four vols.
Im Bannkreis Babels, 1910.

Kugler, F. X. The Babylonian Lunar Calculation, 1900.
Astronomy and Star Service in Babylon, Freiburg, 1907-1913. To be completed in four volumes.
Under the Spell of Babylon, 1910.

Oppert, J. Die astronomischen Angaben der assyrischen Keilin[Pg 35]schriften, in Sitzb. d. Wien. Akad. Math.-Nat. Classe, 1885, pp. 894-906.
Un texte Babylonien astronomique et sa traduction grecque par Cl. Ptolémeé, in Zeitsch. f. Assyriol. VI (1891), pp. 103-23.

Oppert, J. The astronomical information in the Assyrian cuneiform inscriptions, in Proceedings of the Vienna Academy of Sciences, Mathematical-Natural Sciences Class, 1885, pp. 894-906.
A Babylonian astronomical text and its Greek translation by Cl. Ptolemy, in Journal of Assyriology VI (1891), pp. 103-23.

Sayce, A. H. The astronomy and astrology of the Babylonians, with translations of the tablets relating to the subject, in Transactions of the Society of Biblical Archaeology, III (1874), 145-339; the first and until recently the best guide to the subject.

Sayce, A. H. The astronomy and astrology of the Babylonians, with translations of the tablets related to the topic, in Transactions of the Society of Biblical Archaeology, III (1874), 145-339; the first and, until recently, the best guide on the subject.

Schiaparelli, G. V. I Primordi ed i Progressi dell’ Astronomia presso i Babilonesi, Bologna, 1908.
Astronomy in the Old Testament, 1905.

Schiaparelli, G. V. The Origins and Progress of Astronomy among the Babylonians, Bologna, 1908.
Astronomy in the Old Testament, 1905.

Stücken, Astralmythen, 1896-1907.

Stücken, Astral Myths, 1896-1907.

Virolleaud, Ch. L’Astrologie chaldéenne, Paris, 1905-; to be completed in eight parts, texts and translations.

Virolleaud, Ch. Chaldean Astrology, Paris, 1905-; to be completed in eight parts, texts and translations.

Winckler, Himmels-und Weltenbild der Babylonier als Grundlage der Weltanschauung und Mythologie aller Völker, in Der alte Orient, III, 2-3.

Winckler, "The Babylonian View of Heaven and Earth as the Basis of the Worldview and Mythology of All Peoples," in The Ancient East, III, 2-3.


[Pg 37]

[Pg 37]

BOOK I. THE ROMAN EMPIRE

Foreword.
Chapter 2. Pliny’s Natural History.
I. Its place in the history of science.
II. Its experimental tendency.
III. Pliny’s account of magic.
IV. The science of the Magi.
V. Pliny’s magical science.
Chapter 3. Seneca and Ptolemy: Natural Divination and Astrology.
Chapter 4. Galen.
I. The man and his times.
II. His medicine and experimental science.
III. His attitude toward magic.
Chapter 5. Ancient Applied Science and Magic.
Chapter 6. Plutarch’s Essays.
Chapter 7. Apuleius of Madaura.
Chapter 8. Philostratus’s Life of Apollonius of Tyana.
Chapter 9. Literary and Philosophical Attacks upon Superstition.
Chapter 10. The Spurious Mystic Writings of Hermes, Orpheus, and Zoroaster.
Chapter 11. Neo-Platonism and its Relations to Astrology and Theurgy.
Chapter 12. Aelian, Solinus, and Horapollo.

[Pg 39]

[Pg 39]

BOOK I. THE ROMAN EMPIRE

BOOK I. THE ROMAN EMPIRE

FOREWORD

A trio of great names.

A trio of great names, Pliny, Galen, and Ptolemy, stand out above all others in the history of science under the Roman Empire. In the use or criticism which they make of earlier writers and investigators they are also our chief sources for the science of the preceding Hellenistic period. By their voluminousness, their generous scope in ground covered, and their broad, liberal, personal outlooks, they have painted, in colors for the most part imperishable, extensive canvasses of the scientific spirit and acquisitions of their own time. Pliny pursued politics and literature as well as natural science; Ptolemy was at once mathematician, astronomer, physicist, and geographer; Galen knew philosophy as well as medicine. The two latter men, moreover, made original contributions of their own of the very first order to scientific knowledge and method. It is characteristic of the homogeneous and widespread culture of the Roman Empire that these three representatives of different, although overlapping, fields of science were natives of the three continents that enclose the Mediterranean Sea. Pliny was born at Como where Italy verges on transalpine lands; Ptolemy, born somewhere in Egypt, did his work at Alexandria; Galen came from Pergamum in Asia Minor. Finally, these men were, after Aristotle, the three ancient scientists who directly or indirectly most powerfully influenced the middle ages. Thus they illuminate past, present, and future.

A trio of great names—Pliny, Galen, and Ptolemy—stand out above all others in the history of science during the Roman Empire. In how they used or criticized earlier writers and researchers, they are also our main sources for the science of the earlier Hellenistic period. Their extensive works, broad coverage of topics, and open-minded, personal perspectives have created lasting representations of the scientific spirit and achievements of their time. Pliny was involved in politics and literature as well as natural science; Ptolemy was a mathematician, astronomer, physicist, and geographer; Galen understood both philosophy and medicine. Furthermore, the latter two made their own original contributions that were of the highest importance to scientific knowledge and methodology. It is notable that the unified and diverse culture of the Roman Empire produced these three representatives from different yet overlapping scientific fields, hailing from the three continents surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. Pliny was born in Como, where Italy meets the lands beyond the Alps; Ptolemy was born in Egypt and worked in Alexandria; Galen came from Pergamum in Asia Minor. Finally, after Aristotle, these three ancient scientists had the most significant direct or indirect impact on the Middle Ages. Thus, they illuminate the past, present, and future.

Plan of this section.

We shall therefore open the present section of our investigation by considering in turn chronologically, Pliny, Ptolemy, and Galen, coupling, however, with our consideration of Ptolemy the work of Seneca on Natural Questions[Pg 40] which shows the same combination of natural science and natural divination. Next we shall consider some representatives of ancient applied science and its relations to magic, and the more miscellaneous writings of Plutarch, Apuleius, and Philostratus’s Life of Apollonius of Tyana. From the hospitable attitude toward magic and occult science displayed by these last writers we shall then turn back again to consider some examples of literary and philosophical attacks upon superstition, before proceeding lastly to spurious mystic writings of the Roman Empire, Neo-Platonism and its relations to astrology and theurgy, and the works of Aelian, Solinus, and Horapollo.

We will start this section of our investigation by looking at Pliny, Ptolemy, and Galen in chronological order. However, along with our examination of Ptolemy, we'll also include Seneca's work on Natural Questions[Pg 40] which shows a similar mix of natural science and natural divination. Next, we'll explore some examples of ancient applied science and its connections to magic, as well as the more varied writings of Plutarch, Apuleius, and Philostratus’s Life of Apollonius of Tyana. From the welcoming approach to magic and occult science in these later writers, we will then return to look at some cases of literary and philosophical critiques of superstition, before finally addressing questionable mystical writings from the Roman Empire, Neo-Platonism and its connections to astrology and theurgy, and the works of Aelian, Solinus, and Horapollo.


[Pg 41]

[Pg 41]

CHAPTER II
PLINY’S NATURAL HISTORY

I. Its Place in the History of Science

I. Its Place in the History of Science

Its importance in our investigation—As a collection of miscellaneous information—As a repository of ancient natural science—As a source for magic—Pliny’s career—His writings—His own description of the Natural History—His devotion to science—Conflict of science and religion—Pliny not a trained naturalist—His use of authorities—His lack of arrangement and classification—His scepticism and credulity—A guide to ancient science—His medieval influence—Early printed editions.

Its importance in our investigation—As a collection of various information—As a storehouse of ancient natural science—As a source for magic—Pliny’s career—His writings—His own description of the Natural History—His commitment to science—Tension between science and religion—Pliny was not a trained naturalist—His reliance on authorities—His lack of organization and classification—His skepticism and gullibility—A guide to ancient science—His influence in the medieval period—Early printed editions.

II. Its Experimental Tendency

II. Its Experimental Nature

Importance of observation and experience—Use of the word experimentum—Experiments due to scientific curiosity—Medical experimentation—Chance experience and divine revelation—Marvels proved by experience.

Importance of observation and experience—Use of the word experimentum—Experiments driven by scientific curiosity—Medical experimentation—Random experiences and divine revelation—Wonders verified by experience.

III. Pliny’s Account of Magic

III. Pliny’s Take on Magic

Oriental origin of magic—Its spread to the Greeks—Its spread outside the Graeco-Roman world—Failure to understand its true origin—Magic and divination—Magic and religion—Magic and medicine—Magic and philosophy—Falseness of magic—Crimes of magic—Pliny’s censure of magic is mainly intellectual—Vagueness of Pliny’s scepticism—Magic and science indistinguishable.

Oriental origins of magic—Its spread to the Greeks—Its spread beyond the Graeco-Roman world—Misunderstanding of its true origins—Magic and divination—Magic and religion—Magic and medicine—Magic and philosophy—The falsehood of magic—Crimes associated with magic—Pliny’s criticism of magic is primarily intellectual—Vagueness of Pliny’s skepticism—Magic and science are indistinguishable.

IV. The Science of the Magi

IV. The Science of Magic

Magicians as investigators of nature—The Magi on herbs—Marvelous virtues of herbs—Animals and parts of animals—Further instances—Magic rites with animals and parts of animals—Marvels wrought with parts of animals—The Magi on stones—Other magical recipes—Summary of the statements of the Magi.

Magicians as nature investigators—The Magi on herbs—Amazing properties of herbs—Animals and animal parts—More examples—Magic rituals with animals and animal parts—Wonders performed with animal parts—The Magi on stones—Other magical recipes—Summary of the Magi's statements.

V. Pliny’s Magical Science

V. Pliny's Magic Science

From the Magi to Pliny’s magic—Habits of animals—Remedies discovered by animals—Jealousy of animals—Occult virtues of animals—The virtues of herbs—Plucking herbs—Agricultural magic—Virtue of stones—Other minerals and metals—Virtues of human parts—Virtues[Pg 42] of human saliva—The human operator—Absence of medical compounds—Sympathetic magic—Antipathies between animals—Love and hatred between inanimate objects—Sympathy between animate and inanimate objects—Like cures like—The principle of association—Magic transfer of disease—Amulets—Position or direction—The time element—Observance of number—Relation between operator and patient—Incantations—Attitude towards love-charms and birth control—Pliny and astrology—Celestial portents—The stars and the world of nature—Astrological medicine—Conclusion: magic unity of Pliny’s superstitions.

From the Magi to Pliny’s magic—Animal habits—Remedies found by animals—Animal jealousy—Hidden powers of animals—The properties of herbs—Harvesting herbs—Agricultural magic—Power of stones—Other minerals and metals—Benefits of human parts—Benefits of human saliva—The human practitioner—Lack of medical compounds—Sympathetic magic—Conflicts between animals—Love and hate between inanimate objects—Sympathy between living and non-living things—Like cures like—The principle of association—Magical transfer of illness—Amulets—Position or direction—The time factor—Importance of numbers—Relationship between practitioner and patient—Incantations—Attitudes toward love spells and birth control—Pliny and astrology—Celestial omens—The stars and the natural world—Astrological medicine—Conclusion: the magical unity of Pliny’s superstitions.

Salve, parens rerum omnium Natura, teque nobis Quiritium solis celebratam esse numeris omnibus tuis fave!

Hello, parent of all things, Nature, may you be celebrated by us, the citizens, with all your numbers!

Closing words of the Natural History.[119]

Closing words of the Natural History.[119]

I. Its Place in the History of Science

Important in our investigation.

We should have to search long before finding a better starting-point for the consideration of the union of magic with the science of the Roman Empire, and of the way in which that union influenced the middle ages, than Pliny’s Natural History.[120] The foregoing sentence, with which years ago I opened a chapter on the Natural History of Pliny the Elder in my briefer preliminary study of magic in the intellectual history of the Roman Empire, seems as true as ever; and although I there considered his confusion of magic and science at some length, I do not see how I can make the present work well-rounded and complete without including in it a yet more detailed analysis of the contents of Pliny’s book.

We would have to look for a long time before finding a better starting point for discussing the connection between magic and the science of the Roman Empire, and how that connection influenced the Middle Ages, than Pliny’s Natural History.[120] The previous sentence, with which I opened a chapter on Pliny the Elder’s Natural History years ago in my shorter preliminary study of magic in the intellectual history of the Roman Empire, still holds true; and even though I examined his mix-up of magic and science in some detail there, I can’t see how I can make this current work well-rounded and complete without including a more detailed analysis of the contents of Pliny’s book.

As a collection of miscellaneous information.

Pliny’s Natural History, which appeared about 77 A.D. and is dedicated to the Emperor Titus, is perhaps the most[Pg 43] important single source extant for the history of ancient civilization. Its thirty-seven books, written in a very compact style, constitute a vast collection of the most miscellaneous information. Whether one is investigating ancient painting, sculpture, and other fine arts; or the geography of the Roman Empire; or Roman triumphs, gladiatorial contests, and theatrical exhibitions; or the industrial processes of antiquity; or Mediterranean trade; or Italian agriculture; or mining in ancient Spain; or the history of Roman coinage; or the fluctuation of prices in antiquity; or the Roman attitude towards usury; or the pagan attitude towards immortality; or the nature of ancient beverages; or the religious usages of the ancient Romans; or any of a number of other topics; one will find something concerning all of them in Pliny. He is apt both to depict such conditions in his own time and to trace them back to their origins. Furthermore he repeats many detailed incidents of interest to the political or narrative historian of Rome as well as to the student of the economic, social, artistic, and religious life of antiquity. Probably there is no place where an isolated point is more likely to be run down by the investigator, and it is regrettable that exhaustive analytical indices of the work are not available. We may add that, although the work is supposedly a collection of facts, Pliny contrives to introduce many moral reflections and sharp comments on the luxury, vice, and unintellectual character of his times, suggesting Juvenal’s picture of degenerate Roman society and his own lofty moral standards.

Pliny’s Natural History, which was published around 77 A.D. and dedicated to Emperor Titus, is probably the most important single source we have for the history of ancient civilization. Its thirty-seven books, written in a very concise style, form a vast collection of diverse information. Whether you're looking into ancient painting, sculpture, and other fine arts; the geography of the Roman Empire; Roman triumphs, gladiatorial contests, and theatrical performances; industrial processes of the past; Mediterranean trade; Italian agriculture; mining in ancient Spain; the history of Roman coinage; price fluctuations in antiquity; Roman views on usury; pagan beliefs about immortality; ancient beverages; religious practices of the ancient Romans; or many other topics; you’ll find something about all of them in Pliny’s work. He often describes the conditions of his own time and traces them back to their origins. Additionally, he recounts many detailed incidents that are of interest to both political and narrative historians of Rome, as well as to those studying the economic, social, artistic, and religious life of antiquity. It’s likely that an isolated topic will be easily discovered in this work, and it's unfortunate that comprehensive analytical indexes are not available. We should also note that, although this work is meant to be a collection of facts, Pliny manages to weave in many moral reflections and sharp critiques on the luxury, vice, and lack of intellectualism in his time, echoing Juvenal’s depiction of a declining Roman society alongside his own high moral standards.

As a repository of ancient natural science.

Indeed, Pliny’s title, Naturalis Historia, or at least the common English translation of it, “Natural History,” has been criticized as too limited in scope, and the work has been described as “rather a vast encyclopedia of ancient knowledge and belief upon almost every known subject.”[121] Pliny himself mentions in his preface the Greek word “encyclopedia” as indicative of his scope. Nevertheless, his work is primarily an account of nature rather than of civili[Pg 44]zation, and much of its information concerning such matters as the arts and business is incidental. Most of its books bear such titles as Aquatic Animals, Exotic Trees, Medicines from Forest Trees, The Natures of Metals. After an introductory book containing the preface and a table of contents and lists of authorities for each of the subsequent books, the second book treats of the universe, heavenly bodies, meteorology, and the chief changes, such as earthquakes and tides, in the land and water forming the earth’s surface. After four books devoted to geography, the seventh deals with man and human inventions. Four more follow on terrestrial and aquatic animals, birds, and insects. Sixteen more are concerned with plants, trees, vines, and other vegetation, and the medicinal simples derived from them. Five books discuss the medicinal simples derived from animals, including the human body; and the last five books treat of metals and minerals and the arts in which they are employed. It is thus evident that in the main Pliny is concerned with natural science, and that, if his work is a mine of miscellaneous historical information, it should even more prove a rich treasure-house—“quoniam, ut ait Domitius Piso, thesauros oportet esse non libros[122]—for an investigation concerned as intimately as is ours with the history of science.

Indeed, Pliny’s title, Naturalis Historia, or at least the common English translation, “Natural History,” has been criticized as being too narrow in focus, and the work has been described as “rather a vast encyclopedia of ancient knowledge and belief on almost every known subject.”[121] Pliny himself mentions in his preface the Greek word “encyclopedia” as reflective of his scope. However, his work is mainly an account of nature rather than civilization, and much of the information related to topics like the arts and business is incidental. Most of its books have titles like Aquatic Animals, Exotic Trees, Medicines from Forest Trees, and The Natures of Metals. After an introductory book that contains the preface, a table of contents, and lists of sources for each of the following books, the second book covers the universe, heavenly bodies, meteorology, and major changes like earthquakes and tides on the earth’s surface. After four books focused on geography, the seventh addresses humans and human inventions. Four more books follow on land and water animals, birds, and insects. Sixteen additional books deal with plants, trees, vines, and other vegetation, along with the medicinal simples extracted from them. Five books discuss medicinal simples from animals, including the human body; and the last five books focus on metals and minerals and the crafts related to them. It’s clear that Pliny is primarily concerned with natural science, and that, while his work is a treasure trove of diverse historical information, it should also serve as a rich resource—“quoniam, ut ait Domitius Piso, thesauros oportet esse non libros[122]—for research closely tied to the history of science.

As a source for magic.

The Natural History is a great storehouse of misinformation as well as of information, for Pliny’s credulity and lack of discrimination harvested the tares of legend and magic along with the wheat of historical fact and ancient science in his voluminous granary. This may put other historical investigators upon their guard in accepting its statements, but only increases its value for our purpose. Perhaps it is even more valuable as a collection of ancient errors than it is as a repository of ancient science. It touches upon many of the varieties, and illustrates most of the characteristics, of magic. Moreover, Pliny often mentions the Magi or magicians and discusses “magic” expressly at some[Pg 45] length in the opening chapters of his thirtieth book—one of the most important passages on the theme in any ancient writer.

The Natural History is a vast collection of both misinformation and information, as Pliny’s gullibility and poor judgment brought together myths and magic along with the truth of historical facts and ancient science in his extensive writings. This should make other historical researchers cautious about accepting its claims, but it actually enhances its usefulness for our study. It might even be more valuable as a record of ancient misconceptions than as a source of ancient science. It covers many different types and illustrates most characteristics of magic. Additionally, Pliny frequently refers to the Magi or magicians and discusses “magic” in detail in the opening chapters of his thirtieth book—one of the most significant discussions on the topic by any ancient author.

Pliny’s career.

Pliny the Elder, as we learn from his own statements in the Natural History and from one or two letters concerning him written by his nephew, Pliny the Younger, whom he adopted, went through the usual military, forensic, and official career of the Roman of good family, and spent his life largely in the service of the emperors. He visited various Mediterranean lands, such as Spain, Africa, Greece, and Egypt, and fought in Germany. He was in charge of the Roman fleet on the west coast of Italy when he met his death at the age of fifty-six by suffocation as he was trying to rescue others from the fumes and vapors from the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

Pliny the Elder, as noted in his own writings in the Natural History and in a couple of letters from his nephew, Pliny the Younger—whom he adopted—followed the typical military, legal, and official path of a well-to-do Roman. He devoted much of his life to serving the emperors. He traveled to various Mediterranean regions, including Spain, Africa, Greece, and Egypt, and fought in Germany. He was in charge of the Roman fleet on the west coast of Italy when he died at the age of fifty-six, suffocating as he tried to save others from the fumes and gases during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

His writings.

Of Pliny’s writings the Natural History is alone extant, but other titles have been preserved which serve to show his great literary industry and the extent of his interests. He wrote on the use of the javelin by cavalry, a life of his friend Pomponius, an account in twenty books of all the wars waged by the Romans in Germany, a rather long work on oratory called The Student, a grammatical or philological work in eight books entitled De dubio sermone, and a continuation of the History of Aufidius Bassus in thirty-one books. Yet in the dedication of the Natural History to the emperor Titus he states that his days were taken up with official business and only his nights were free for literary labor. This statement is supported by a letter of his nephew telling how he used to study by candle-light both late at night and before daybreak. Pliny the Younger narrates several incidents to illustrate how jealous and economical of every spare moment his uncle was. He would dictate or have books read to him while lying down or in the bath, and on journeys a secretary was always by his side with books and tablets. If the weather was very cold, the amanuensis wore gloves so that his hands might not become too numb to write. Pliny always took notes on what he read, and at[Pg 46] his death left his nephew one hundred and sixty notebooks written in a small hand on both sides.

Of Pliny’s writings, only the Natural History still exists, but other titles have been preserved that show his immense literary dedication and wide-ranging interests. He wrote about how cavalry used the javelin, a biography of his friend Pomponius, a twenty-book account of all the wars fought by the Romans in Germany, a lengthy work on oratory titled The Student, an eight-book grammatical or philological treatise called De dubio sermone, and a continuation of Aufidius Bassus’s History in thirty-one books. However, in the dedication of the Natural History to Emperor Titus, he mentions that his days were filled with official duties and only his nights were available for writing. This is backed up by a letter from his nephew, which describes how Pliny would study by candlelight late at night and before dawn. Pliny the Younger shares several stories to illustrate how diligent and frugal his uncle was with his time. He would dictate or have books read to him while lying down or in the bath, and he always traveled with a secretary who carried books and tablets by his side. If it was very cold, the assistant wore gloves so his hands wouldn’t get too numb to write. Pliny always took notes on what he read, and at[Pg 46] his death, he left his nephew one hundred and sixty notebooks filled with tiny handwriting on both sides.

His own description of the Natural History.

Such were the conditions under which, and the methods by which, Pliny compiled his encyclopedia on nature. No single writer either Greek or Latin, he tells us, had ever before attempted so extensive a task. He adds that he treats of some twenty thousand topics gleaned from the perusal of about two thousand volumes by one hundred authors.[123] Judging from his bibliographies and citations, however, he would seem to have utilized more than one hundred authors. But possibly he had not read all the writers mentioned in his bibliographies. He affirms that previous students have had access to but few of the volumes which he has used, and that he adds many things unknown to his ancient authorities and recently discovered. Occasionally he shows an acquaintance with beliefs and practices of the Gauls and Druids. Thus his work assumes to be something more than a compilation from other books. He says, however, that no doubt he has omitted much, since he is only human and has had many other demands upon his time. He admits that his subject is dry (sterilis materia) and does not lend itself to literary exhibitions, nor include matters stimulating to write about and pleasant to read about, like speeches and marvelous occurrences and varied incidents. Nor does it permit purity and elegance of diction, since one must at times employ the terminology of rustics, foreigners, and even barbarians. Furthermore, “it is an arduous task to give novelty to what is ancient, authority to what is new, interest to what is obsolete, light to what is obscure, charm to what is loathsome”—as many of his medicinal simples undoubtedly are—“credit to what is dubious.”

These were the conditions and methods Pliny used to create his encyclopedia on nature. He notes that no single writer, whether Greek or Latin, had ever attempted such a broad project before. He claims to cover around twenty thousand topics drawn from reading about two thousand volumes by one hundred authors. However, based on his bibliographies and citations, it seems he used more than just one hundred authors. It’s possible he hadn't read all the writers listed in his bibliographies. He insists that previous scholars had access to only a few of the volumes he referenced and that he includes many things that were unknown to his ancient sources and recently discovered. Occasionally, he shows familiarity with the beliefs and practices of the Gauls and Druids. Therefore, his work seems to be more than just a collection from other books. Yet, he acknowledges that he has undoubtedly left out a lot since he is only human and has had many other demands on his time. He admits that his subject is dry (sterilis materia) and doesn't lend itself to literary flair, nor does it include subjects that are exciting to write about or enjoyable to read, like speeches, remarkable events, or diverse incidents. It also doesn't allow for purity and elegance of language since one sometimes has to use the terminology of peasants, foreigners, and even barbarians. Furthermore, "it's a challenging task to bring new life to what is old, authority to what is new, interest to what is outdated, clarity to what is unclear, and charm to what is unappealing"—as many of his medicinal plants undoubtedly are—"and credibility to what is questionable."

His devotion to science.

It is a great comfort to Pliny, however, in his immense task, when many laugh at him as wasting his time over worthless trifles, to reflect that he is being spurned along with Nature.[124] In another passage[125] he contrasts the blood[Pg 47] and slaughter of military history with the benefits bestowed upon mankind by astronomers. In a third passage[126] he looks back regretfully at the widespread interest in science among the Greeks, although those were times of political disunion and strife and although communication between different lands was interrupted by piracy as well as war, whereas now, with the whole empire at peace, not only is no new scientific inquiry undertaken, but men do not even thoroughly study the works of the ancients, and are intent on the acquisition of lucre rather than learning. These and other passages which might be cited attest Pliny’s devotion to science.

It really comforts Pliny, though, in his massive task, when many mock him for wasting his time on pointless details, to think that he's being rejected alongside Nature.[124] In another part[125] he compares the bloodshed and violence of military history with the benefits that astronomers provide to humanity. In a third part[126] he looks back sadly at the strong interest in science among the Greeks, despite those being times of political discord and conflict, and even though communication between different regions was disrupted by piracy and war. Now, with the entire empire at peace, not only is no new scientific exploration happening, but people aren't even deeply studying the works of the ancients, focusing instead on making money rather than gaining knowledge. These and other examples that could be mentioned show Pliny's commitment to science.

Conflict of science and religion.

In Pliny we also detect signs of the conflict between science and religion. In a single chapter on God he says pretty much all that the church fathers later repeated at much greater length against paganism and polytheism. But his discussion would hardly satisfy a Christian. He asserts that “it is God for man to aid his fellow man,[127] and this is the path to eternal glory,” but he turns this noble sentiment to justify deification of the emperors who have done so much for mankind. He questions whether God is concerned with human affairs; slyly suggests that if so, God must be too busy to punish all crimes promptly; and points out that there are some things which God cannot do. He cannot commit suicide as men can, nor alter past events, nor make twice ten anything else than twenty. Pliny then concludes: “By which is revealed in no uncertain wise the power of Nature, and that is what we call God.” In many other passages he exclaims at Nature’s benignity or providence. He believed that the soul had no separate existence from the body,[128] and that after death there was no more sense left in body or soul than was there before birth. The hope of personal immortality he scorned as “puerile ravings” produced by the fear of death, and he believed still less in the possibility of any resurrection of the body. In short, natural law, me[Pg 48]chanical force, and facts capable of scientific investigation would seem to be all that he will admit and to suffice to satisfy his strong intellect. Yet we shall later find him having the greatest difficulty in distinguishing between science and magic, and giving credence to many details in science which seem to us quite as superstitious as the pagan beliefs concerning the gods which he rejected. But if any reader is inclined to belittle Pliny for this, let him first stop and think how Pliny would ridicule some modern scientists for their religious beliefs, or for their spiritualism or psychic research.

In Pliny's work, we can also see the tension between science and religion. In one chapter about God, he covers much of what the church fathers later elaborated on at length against paganism and polytheism. However, his views would likely not satisfy a Christian. He claims that “it is God for man to aid his fellow man, [127] and this is the path to eternal glory,” but he uses this admirable idea to justify the deification of the emperors who have contributed greatly to humanity. He questions whether God is really involved in human matters, slyly suggesting that if God is, He must be too busy to punish all crimes promptly, and points out that there are some things God cannot do. For instance, He cannot commit suicide like humans can, nor can He change past events, or make two times ten anything other than twenty. Pliny concludes: “By which is revealed in no uncertain way the power of Nature, and that is what we call God.” In many other instances, he praises Nature’s goodness or providence. He believed that the soul doesn’t exist separately from the body, [128] and that after death, there’s no more awareness in body or soul than there was before birth. He dismissed the hope of personal immortality as “childish fantasies” born out of the fear of death, and he was even more skeptical about the possibility of bodily resurrection. In summary, he seems to accept only natural law, mechanical force, and facts that can be scientifically examined to satisfy his keen intellect. Yet, we will later find him struggling to differentiate between science and magic, believing in many scientific details that seem just as superstitious as the pagan beliefs he rejected. However, if any reader is tempted to underestimate Pliny for this, they should first consider how Pliny would mock some modern scientists for their religious beliefs, or for their interest in spiritualism or psychic research.

Pliny not a trained naturalist.

It is desirable, however, to form some estimate of Pliny’s fitness for his task in order to judge how accurate a picture of ancient science his work is. He does not seem to have had much detailed training or experience in the natural sciences himself. He writes not as a naturalist who has observed widely and profoundly the phenomena and operations of nature, but as an omnivorous reader and voluminous note-taker who owes his knowledge largely to books or hearsay, although occasionally he says “I know” instead of “they say,” or gives the results of his own observation and experience. In the main he is not a scientist himself but only a historian of science or nature; after all, his title, Natural History, is a very fitting one. The question, of course, arises whether he has sufficient scientific training to evaluate properly the work of the past. Has he read the best authors, has he noted their best passages, has he understood their meaning? Does he repeat inferior theories and omit the correcter views of certain Alexandrian scientists? These questions are hard to answer. On his behalf it may be said that he deals little with abstruse scientific theory and mainly with simple substances and geographical places, matters in which it seems difficult for him to go far astray. Scientific specialists were not numerous in those days, anyway, and science had not yet so far advanced and ramified that one man might not hope to cover the entire field and do it substantial justice. Pliny the Younger was perhaps[Pg 49] a partial judge, but he described the Natural History as “a work remarkable for its comprehensiveness and erudition, and not less varied than Nature herself.”[129]

It’s important to assess Pliny’s ability to carry out his task to determine how accurate his depiction of ancient science really is. He doesn’t seem to have had much in-depth training or experience in the natural sciences himself. He writes not as a naturalist who has extensively and deeply observed the phenomena and workings of nature, but as an eager reader and prolific note-taker who gains most of his knowledge from books or hearsay, although he occasionally uses “I know” instead of “they say,” or shares the results of his own observations and experiences. Overall, he isn’t a scientist himself, but rather a historian of science or nature; after all, his title, Natural History, is quite fitting. The question arises, though, whether he has enough scientific training to properly evaluate the work of the past. Has he read the best authors, taken note of their best points, and truly understood their meanings? Does he repeat inferior theories and overlook the more accurate views of certain Alexandrian scientists? These questions are tough to answer. On his behalf, it could be said that he doesn’t engage much with complex scientific theories and focuses mainly on simple substances and geographical locations, areas in which it seems hard for him to make serious mistakes. Anyway, scientific specialists were not common in those days, and science had not yet advanced and diversified to the point where one person couldn't hope to cover the entire field and do it justice. Pliny the Younger was perhaps a biased judge, but he described the Natural History as “a work remarkable for its comprehensiveness and erudition, and not less varied than Nature herself.”[129]

His use of authorities.

One thing in Pliny’s favor as a compiler, besides his personal industry, unflagging interest, and apparently abundant supply of clerical assistance, is his full and honest statement of his authorities, although he adds that he has caught many authors transcribing others verbatim without acknowledgment. He has, however, great admiration for many of his authorities, exclaiming more than once at the care and diligence of the men of the past who have left nothing untried or unexperienced, from trackless mountain tops to the roots of herbs.[130] Sometimes, nevertheless, he disputes their assertions. For instance, Hippocrates said that the appearance of jaundice on the seventh day in fever is a fatal sign, “but we know some who have lived even after this.”[131] Pliny also scolds Sophocles for his falsehoods concerning amber.[132] It may seem surprising that he should expect strict scientific truth from a dramatic poet, but Pliny, like many medieval writers, seems to regard poets as good scientific authorities. In another passage he accepts Sophocles’ statement that a certain plant is poisonous, rather than the contrary view of other writers, saying “the authority of so prominent a man moves me against their opinions.”[133] He also cites Menander concerning fish and, like almost all the ancients, regards Homer as an authority on all matters.[134] Pliny sometimes cites the works of King Juba of Numidia, than whom there hardly seems to have been a greater liar in antiquity.[135] He stated among other things in a work which he wrote for Gaius Caesar, the son of Augustus, that a whale six hundred feet long and three hundred and sixty feet broad had[Pg 50] entered a river in Arabia.[136] But where should Pliny turn for sober truth? The Stoic Chrysippus prated of amulets;[137] treatises ascribed to the great philosophers Democritus and Pythagoras[138] were full of magic; and in the works of Cicero he read of a man who could see for a distance of one hundred and thirty-five miles, and in Varro that this man, standing on a Sicilian promontory, could count the number of ships sailing out of the harbor of Carthage.[139]

One thing in Pliny’s favor as a compiler, besides his personal hard work, constant interest, and seemingly ample clerical help, is his full and honest acknowledgment of his sources. He notes that he’s caught many authors copying others word-for-word without giving credit. Still, he has great admiration for many of his sources, often praising the care and dedication of those in the past who have tried everything from uncharted mountain peaks to the roots of herbs.[130] However, he sometimes disagrees with their claims. For example, Hippocrates said that if jaundice appears on the seventh day of a fever, it’s a fatal sign, “but we know some who have survived even after this.”[131] Pliny also criticizes Sophocles for his inaccuracies about amber.[132] It might be surprising that he expects strict scientific accuracy from a playwright, but Pliny, like many medieval writers, seems to consider poets reliable scientific sources. In another part, he agrees with Sophocles’ claim that a certain plant is poisonous, disregarding the opposite view from other writers, stating “the authority of such a prominent person sways me against their opinions.”[133] He also references Menander regarding fish and, like almost all ancient thinkers, sees Homer as an expert on all topics.[134] Pliny sometimes cites the works of King Juba of Numidia, who appears to have been one of the greatest liars of antiquity.[135] He claimed among other things in a work he wrote for Gaius Caesar, the son of Augustus, that a whale six hundred feet long and three hundred sixty feet wide had[Pg 50] entered a river in Arabia.[136] But where should Pliny look for reliable truth? The Stoic Chrysippus babbled about amulets;[137] writings attributed to great philosophers Democritus and Pythagoras[138] were filled with magic; and in Cicero's works, he read about a man who could see a distance of one hundred thirty-five miles, and in Varro, that this man, standing on a Sicilian promontory, could count the number of ships leaving the harbor of Carthage.[139]

His lack of arrangement and classification.

The Natural History has been criticized as poorly arranged and lacking in scientific classification, but this is a criticism which can be made of many works of the classical period. Their presentation is apt to be rambling and discursive rather than logical and systematic. Even Aristotle’s History of Animals is described by Lewes[140] as unclassified in its arrangement and careless in its selection of material. I have often thought that the scholastic centuries did mankind at least one service, that of teaching lecturers and writers how to arrange their material. Pliny seems rather in advance of his times in supplying full tables of contents for the busy emperor’s convenience. Valerius Soranus seems to have been the only previous Roman writer to do this. One indication of haste in composition and failure to sift and compare his material is the fact that Pliny sometimes makes or includes contradictory statements, probably taken from different authorities. On the other hand, he not infrequently alludes to previous passages in his own work, thus showing that he has his material fairly well in hand.

The Natural History has faced criticism for being poorly organized and lacking scientific classification, but this is a critique that can apply to many works from the classical period. Their presentations tend to be meandering and rambling rather than logical and systematic. Even Aristotle’s History of Animals is labeled by Lewes[140] as unclassified in its organization and sloppy in its choice of material. I’ve often thought that the scholastic centuries provided at least one benefit to humanity: they taught lecturers and writers how to organize their content. Pliny seems to be somewhat ahead of his time by providing detailed tables of contents for the busy emperor's convenience. Valerius Soranus appears to have been the only earlier Roman writer to do this. One sign of hurried writing and a lack of thorough evaluation of his material is that Pliny sometimes makes or includes contradictory statements, likely taken from different sources. On the other hand, he often references previous sections in his own work, indicating that he has a solid grasp of his material.

His scepticism and credulity.

Pliny once said that there was no book so bad but what some good might be got from it,[141] and to the modern reader he seems almost incredibly credulous and indiscriminate in[Pg 51] his selection of material, and to lack any standard of judgment between the true and the false. Yet he often assumes an air of scepticism and censures others sharply for their credulity or exaggeration. “’Tis strange,” he remarks à propos of some tales of men transformed into wolves for nine or ten years, “how far Greek credulity has gone. No lie is so impudent that it lacks a voucher.”[142] Once he expresses his determination to include only those points on which his authorities are in agreement.[143]

Pliny once said that there’s no book so bad that you can't get something good out of it, and to the modern reader, he seems almost unbelievably gullible and random in his choice of material, lacking any standard to judge what's true and what's false. Yet he often takes on a skeptical tone and harshly criticizes others for their gullibility or exaggeration. “It’s strange,” he comments regarding some stories of men turning into wolves for nine or ten years, “how far Greek gullibility has gone. No lie is so brazen that it doesn’t have a supporter.” Once, he states his intention to only include points where his sources agree.

A guide to ancient science.

On the whole, while to us to-day the Natural History seems a disorderly and indiscriminate conglomeration of fact and fiction, its defects are probably to a great extent those of its age and of the writers from whom it has borrowed. If it does not reflect the highest achievements and clearest thinking of the best scientists of antiquity—and be it said that there are a number of the Hellenistic age of whom we should know less than we do but for Pliny—it probably is a fairly faithful epitome of science and error concerning nature in his own time and the centuries preceding. At any rate it is the best portrayal that has reached us. From it we can get our background of the confusion of magic and science in the Hellenistic age, and then reveal against this setting the development of them both in the course of the Roman Empire and middle ages. Pliny gives so many items upon each point, and is so much fuller than the average ancient or medieval book of science, that he serves as a reference book, being the likeliest place to look to find duplicated some statement concerning nature by a later writer. This of course shows that such a statement did not originate with the later writer, but is not a sure sign that he copied from Pliny; they may both have used the same authorities, as seems the case with Greek authors later in the empire who probably did not know of Pliny’s work.

Overall, while to us today the Natural History appears to be a chaotic mix of fact and fiction, its flaws are likely reflective of its time and the writers it draws from. If it doesn't showcase the highest achievements and clearest thinking of the best scientists of antiquity—and it should be noted that there are several from the Hellenistic age about whom we would know less if not for Pliny—it does provide a reasonably accurate summary of the science and misconceptions regarding nature in his time and the centuries before. At the very least, it is the best representation we have. From it, we can understand the blending of magic and science during the Hellenistic age, and then explore their development throughout the Roman Empire and the Middle Ages. Pliny includes a wealth of information on each topic and is far more comprehensive than the average ancient or medieval scientific text, serving as a reference book and the most reliable source for finding statements about nature that later writers have repeated. This indicates that such statements didn’t originate with the later writers, but it doesn’t definitively prove that they copied from Pliny; they may have both referred to the same sources, as seems to be the case with Greek authors later in the empire who likely were unaware of Pliny’s work.

His medieval influence.

In the middle ages, however, Pliny had an undoubted direct influence.[144] Manuscripts of the Natural History are[Pg 52] numerous, although in a scarcely legible condition owing to corrections and emendations which enhance the obscurity of the text and perhaps do Pliny grave injustice in other respects.[145] Also many manuscripts contain only a few books or fragments of the text, so that it is possible that many medieval scholars knew their Pliny only in part.[146] This, however, can scarcely be argued from their failure to include more from him in their own works; for that might be due to their knowing the Natural History so well that they took its contents for granted and tried to include other material in their own works. In a later chapter we shall treat of The Medicine of Pliny, a treatise derived from the Natural History. Pliny’s phrase rerum natura figures as the title of several medieval encyclopedias of somewhat similar scope. And his own name was too well known in the middle ages to escape having a work on the philosopher’s stone ascribed to him.[147]

In the Middle Ages, however, Pliny clearly had a direct impact. Manuscripts of the Natural History are[Pg 52] numerous, although they are often difficult to read due to corrections and edits that make the text even more obscure and possibly do Pliny a disservice in other ways. Many manuscripts only contain a few books or fragments of the text, so it’s possible that many medieval scholars only knew parts of Pliny’s work. However, this can hardly be concluded from their lack of references to him in their own writings; they might have been so familiar with the Natural History that they assumed its contents and sought to include other material in their works. In a later chapter, we will discuss The Medicine of Pliny, a treatise derived from the Natural History. Pliny’s term rerum natura is used as the title of several medieval encyclopedias with similar themes. Additionally, his name was too prominent in the Middle Ages to avoid having a work on the philosopher’s stone attributed to him.

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Early printed edition.

That the Natural History was well known as a whole at least by the close of the middle ages is shown by the numerous editions, some of them magnificently printed, which were turned off from the Italian presses immediately after the invention of printing. In the Magliabechian Library of Florence alone are editions printed at Venice in 1469 and 1472, at Rome in 1473 and Parma in 1481, again at Venice in 1487, 1491, and 1499, not to mention Italian translations which appeared at Venice in 1476 and 1489.[148] These editions were accompanied by some published criticism of Pliny’s statements, since in 1492 appeared at Ferrara a treatise On the Errors of Pliny and Others in Medicine by Nicholas Leonicenus of Vicenza with a dedication to Politian.[149] But two years later Pliny found a defender in Pandulph Collenucius.[150]

That the Natural History was widely recognized as a complete work by the end of the Middle Ages is evidenced by the numerous editions, some beautifully printed, that came from Italian presses right after the printing press was invented. In the Magliabechian Library in Florence alone, there are editions printed in Venice in 1469 and 1472, in Rome in 1473, in Parma in 1481, and again in Venice in 1487, 1491, and 1499, not to mention Italian translations that were published in Venice in 1476 and 1489.[148] These editions were accompanied by some critical reviews of Pliny’s statements, as a treatise titled On the Errors of Pliny and Others in Medicine by Nicholas Leonicenus of Vicenza, dedicated to Politian, was published in Ferrara in 1492.[149] However, just two years later, Pliny found a defender in Pandulph Collenucius.[150]

But Pliny’s future influence will come out repeatedly in later chapters. We shall now inquire, first, what signs of experimental science he shows, either derived from the past or added by himself. Second, what he defines as magic and what he has to say about it. Third, how much of what he supposes to be natural science must we regard as essentially magic?

But Pliny’s future influence will appear again in later chapters. We'll first look at what signs of experimental science he shows, whether they're from the past or added by him. Next, we'll examine what he defines as magic and his thoughts on it. Finally, we'll consider how much of what he believes to be natural science should really be seen as magic.

II. Its Experimental Tendency

Importance of observation and experience.

It is probably only a coincidence that two medieval manuscripts close the Natural History in the midst of the seventy-sixth chapter of the last book with the words, “Experimenta pluribus modis constant.... Primum pondere.[151] But although from the very nature of his work Pliny makes extensive use of authorities, he not infrequently manifests a realization, as one dealing with the facts of nature should, of the importance of observation and experience as means of[Pg 54] reaching the truth. The claims of many Romans of high rank to have carried their arms as far as Mount Atlas, which Pliny declares has been repeatedly shown by experience to be most fallacious, leads him to the further reflection that nowhere is a lapse of one’s credulity easier than where a dignified author supports a false statement.[152] In other passages he calls experience the best teacher in all things,[153] and contrasts unfavorably garrulity of words and sitting in schools with going to solitudes and seeking herbs at their appropriate seasons. That upon our globe the land is entirely surrounded by water does not require, he says, investigation by arguments, but is now known by experience.[154] And if the salamander really extinguished fire, it would have been tried at Rome long ago.[155] On the other hand, we find some assertions in the Natural History which Pliny might easily have tested himself and found false, such as his statement that an egg-shell cannot be broken by force or any weight unless it is tipped a little to one side.[156] Sometimes he gives his personal experience,[157] but also mentions experience in many other connections.

It’s probably just a coincidence that two medieval manuscripts end the Natural History in the middle of the seventy-sixth chapter of the last book with the words, “Experimenta pluribus modis constant.... Primum pondere.[151] But even though Pliny relies heavily on other sources due to the nature of his work, he occasionally shows an understanding, as anyone studying nature should, of how important observation and experience are for finding the truth. The claims of many high-ranking Romans that they’ve pushed their armies all the way to Mount Atlas, which Pliny states has been proven time and again to be misleading, lead him to further ponder that it’s easier to suspend disbelief when a respected author backs up a false statement.[152] In other sections, he refers to experience as the best teacher in all matters,[153] and he contrasts the empty chatter of words and time spent in classrooms with seeking solitude and gathering plants at the right times. He argues that the fact that land on our planet is completely surrounded by water doesn’t require investigation through arguments, as it is already known through experience.[154] And if the salamander could actually extinguish fire, it would have been proven in Rome a long time ago.[155] On the flip side, there are some claims in the Natural History that Pliny could have easily tested himself and found to be false, like his claim that an eggshell can't be broken by force or weight unless it’s tilted slightly to one side.[156] Sometimes he shares his personal experiences,[157] but he also references experience in many other contexts.

Use of the word experimentum.

The word employed most of the time by Pliny to denote experience is experimentum.[158] In many passages the word does not indicate anything like a purposive, prearranged, scientific experiment in our sense of that word, but simply the ordinary experience of daily life.[159] We are also told what experti,[160] or men of experience, advise. In a number of passages, however, experimentum is used in a sense some[Pg 55]what more closely approaching our “experiment.” These are cases where something is being tested. For instance, a method of determining whether an egg is fresh or rotten by putting it in water and watching if it floats or sinks is called an experimentum.[161] That horses would whinny at no other painting of a horse than that by Apelles is spoken of as illius experimentum artis, a test of, or testimony to, his art.[162] The expression religionis experimento is applied to a religious test or ordeal by which the virginity of Claudia was vindicated.[163] The word is also used of ways of telling if unguents are good[164] and if wine is beginning to turn;[165] and of various tests of the genuineness of drugs, gems, earths, and metals.[166] It is also twice used of letting down a lighted lamp into a huge wine cask or into wells to discover if there is danger at the bottom from noxious vapors.[167] If the lamp was extinguished, it was a sign of peril to human life. Pliny further suggests purposive experimentation in speaking of experimenta to discover water under ground[168] and in grafting trees.[169]

The word that Pliny mostly uses to refer to experience is experimentum.[158] In many instances, the term doesn’t suggest a purposeful, planned, scientific experiment as we understand it today, but rather the regular experiences of everyday life.[159] He also shares what experti,[160] or experienced individuals, recommend. However, in several instances, experimentum is used in a way that is somewhat closer to our notion of “experiment.” These are situations where something is being tested. For example, a method for checking whether an egg is fresh or rotten by placing it in water and observing if it sinks or floats is referred to as an experimentum.[161] There’s mention of the fact that horses would only whinny at Apelles' painting of a horse, described as illius experimentum artis, a test of or proof of his skill.[162] The phrase religionis experimento describes a religious test or ordeal used to verify Claudia’s virginity.[163] The word is also mentioned regarding methods to assess the quality of unguents[164] and whether wine is starting to spoil;[165] it’s used in various tests for the authenticity of drugs, gems, earths, and metals.[166] It is also used in reference to lowering a lit lamp into a large wine barrel or wells to check for dangers from harmful vapors at the bottom.[167] If the lamp went out, it indicated a threat to human life. Pliny also proposes deliberate experimentation when he discusses experimenta to find water underground[168] and in the grafting of trees.[169]

Experiments due to scientific curiosity.

Most of the tests and experiences thus far mentioned have been practical operations connected with husbandry and industry. But Pliny recounts one or two others which seem to have been dictated solely by scientific curiosity. He classifies the following as experimenta:[170] the sinking of a well to prove by its complete illumination that the sun casts no shadow at noon of the summer solstice; the marking of a dolphin’s tail in order to throw some light upon its length of life, should it ever be captured again, as it was three hundred years later—perhaps the experiment of longest duration on record;[171] and the casting of a man into a pit of[Pg 56] serpents at Rome to determine if he was really immune from their stings.[172]

Most of the tests and experiences mentioned so far have been practical activities related to farming and industry. However, Pliny shares a couple of other examples that seem to have been driven purely by scientific curiosity. He categorizes the following as experimenta:[170] digging a well to demonstrate through its complete light that the sun casts no shadow at noon on the summer solstice; marking a dolphin’s tail to learn about its lifespan, should it ever be caught again, which happened three hundred years later—possibly the longest experiment on record;[171] and throwing a man into a pit of[Pg 56] snakes in Rome to see if he was really immune to their bites.[172]

Medical experimentation.

Experimentum is employed by Pliny in a medical sense which becomes very common in the middle ages. He calls some remedies for toothache and inflamed eyes certa experimenta—sure experiences.[173] Later experimentum came to be applied to almost any recipe or remedy. Pliny, indeed, speaks of the doctors as learning at our risk and getting experience through our deaths.[174] In another passage he states more favorably that “there is no end to experimenting with everything so that even poisons are forced to cure us.”[175] He also briefly mentions the medical sect of Empirics, of whom we shall hear more from Galen. He says that they so name themselves from experiences[176] and originated at Agrigentum in Sicily under Acron and Empedocles.

Experimentum is used by Pliny in a medical context that became quite common in the Middle Ages. He refers to some remedies for toothache and inflamed eyes as certa experimenta—certain experiences.[173] Later, experimentum came to refer to almost any recipe or remedy. In fact, Pliny describes doctors as learning at our expense and gaining experience through our losses.[174] In another statement, he more positively remarks that “there is no limit to experimenting with everything, so much so that even poisons are pressured to heal us.”[175] He also briefly mentions the medical group known as the Empirics, whom we will hear more about from Galen. He notes that they name themselves after experiences[176] and originated in Agrigentum in Sicily under Acron and Empedocles.

Chance experience and divine revelation.

Pliny is puzzled how some things which he finds stated in “authors famous for wisdom” were ever learned by experience, for example, that the star-fish has such fiery fervor that it burns everything in the sea which it touches, and digests its food instantly.[177] That adamant can be broken only by goat’s blood he thinks must have been divinely revealed, for it would hardly have been discovered by chance, and he cannot imagine that anyone would ever have thought of testing a substance of immense value in a fluid of one of the foulest of animals.[178] In several other passages he suggests chance, accident, dreams,[179] or divine revelation as the ways in which the medicinal virtues of certain simples were discovered. Recently, for example, it was discovered that the root of the wild rose is a remedy for hydrophobia by the mother of a soldier in the praetorian guard, who was warned[Pg 57] in a dream to send her son this root, which cured him and many others who have tried it since.[180] And a soldier in Pompey’s time accidentally discovered a cure for elephantiasis when he hid his face for shame in some wild mint leaves.[181] Another herb was accidentally found to be a cure for disorders of the spleen when the entrails of a sacrificial victim happened to be thrown on it and it entirely consumed the milt.[182] The healing properties of vinegar for the sting of the asp were discovered by chance in this wise. A man who was stung by an asp while carrying a leather bottle of vinegar noticed that he felt the sting only when he set the bottle down.[183] He therefore decided to try the effects of a drink of the liquid and was thereby fully cured.[184] Other remedies are learned through the experience of rustics and illiterate persons, and yet others may be discovered by observing animals who cure their ills by them.[185] Pliny’s opinion is that the animals have hit upon them by chance.

Pliny is confused about how some things mentioned by "authors known for their wisdom" were ever discovered through experience. For example, the starfish is said to have such a fiery heat that it burns everything in the sea it touches and digests its food instantly.[177] He believes that the idea that adamant can only be broken by goat's blood must have been revealed by a divine source, as it wouldn't likely have been found by chance. He can't imagine anyone would have thought of testing a substance of great value in the fluid from one of the most disgusting animals.[178] In several other parts, he hints that chance, accidents, dreams,[179] or divine revelations may be how the medicinal properties of certain plants were discovered. For instance, it was recently found that the root of the wild rose can cure hydrophobia, thanks to the mother of a soldier in the praetorian guard, who was told in a dream to send her son this root, which healed him and many others who have tried it since.[180] Also, a soldier during Pompey’s time accidentally found a cure for elephantiasis when he hid his face in some wild mint leaves out of shame.[181] Another herb was discovered to cure spleen disorders by coincidence when the entrails of a sacrificial animal were thrown onto it, and it completely consumed the milt.[182] The healing properties of vinegar for asp stings were found by chance: a man stung by an asp while carrying a leather bottle of vinegar noticed he only felt the sting when he set the bottle down.[183] He then decided to drink some of the vinegar and was completely cured.[184] Other remedies are learned through the experiences of farmers and uneducated people, while some may be discovered by watching animals that heal their ailments with them.[185] Pliny believes that animals stumble upon these remedies by chance.

Marvels proved by experience.

Pliny represents a number of marvelous and to us incredible things as proved by experience. Divination from thunder, for instance, is supported by innumerable experiences, public and private. In two passages out of the three mentioning experti which I cited above, those experienced persons recommended a decidedly magical sort of procedure.[186] In another passage “the experience of many” supports “a strange observance” in plucking a bud.[187] A fourth bit of magical procedure is called “marvelous but easily tested.”[188] Thus the transition is an easy one from signs of experimental science in the Natural History to our next topic, Pliny’s account of magic.

Pliny talks about a number of amazing things that might seem unbelievable to us, but he backs them up with experiences. For example, divination from thunder is supported by countless experiences, both public and private. In two of the three instances where experti is mentioned, those who have experienced it suggest a distinctly magical kind of practice.[186] In another instance, “the experience of many” supports “a strange practice” involving the plucking of a bud.[187] A fourth magical practice is described as “amazing but easy to test.”[188] So, it's a smooth transition from signs of experimental science in the Natural History to our next subject, Pliny’s take on magic.

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III. Pliny’s Account of Magic.

Oriental origin of magic.

Pliny supplies some account of the origin and spread of magic[189] but a rather confused and possibly unreliable one, as he mentions two Zoroasters separated by an interval of five or six thousand years, and two Osthaneses, one of whom accompanied Xerxes, and the other Alexander, in their respective expeditions. He says, indeed, that it is not clear whether one or two Zoroasters existed. In any case magic has flourished greatly the world over for many centuries, and was founded in Persia by Zoroaster. Some other magicians of Media, Babylonia, and Assyria are mere names to Pliny; later he mentions others like Apollobeches and Dardanus. Although he thus derives magic from the orient, he appears to make no distinction, as we shall find other writers doing, between the Magi of Persia and ordinary magicians, nor does he employ the word magic in two senses. He makes it evident, however, that there have been other men who have regarded magic more favorably than he does.

Pliny gives an account of the origin and spread of magic[189], but it's somewhat confusing and possibly unreliable. He talks about two Zoroasters who lived five or six thousand years apart, and two Osthaneses—one who was with Xerxes and the other with Alexander during their respective campaigns. He points out that it's not clear if there was one Zoroaster or two. In any case, magic has thrived worldwide for many centuries and was established in Persia by Zoroaster. For Pliny, many other magicians from Media, Babylonia, and Assyria are just names; he later mentions others like Apollobeches and Dardanus. Although he traces the roots of magic back to the East, he doesn’t distinguish between the Magi of Persia and regular magicians, nor does he use the word magic in two different ways. However, he does show that other people have seen magic in a more positive light than he does.

Its spread to the Greeks.

Pliny next traces the spread of magic among the Greeks. He marvels at the lack of it in the Iliad and the abundance of it in the Odyssey. He is uncertain whether to class Orpheus as a magician, and mentions Thessaly as famous for its witches at least as early as the time of Menander who named one of his comedies after them. But he regards the Osthanes who accompanied Xerxes as the prime introducer of magic to the Greek-speaking world, which straightway went mad over it. In order to learn more of it, the philosophers Pythagoras, Empedocles, Democritus, and Plato went into distant exile and on their return disseminated their lore. Pliny regards the works of Democritus as the greatest single factor in that dissemination of the doctrines of magic which occurred at about the same time that medicine was being developed by the works of Hippocrates. Some[Pg 59] regarded the books on magic ascribed to Democritus as spurious, but Pliny insists that they are genuine.[190]

Pliny goes on to explore how magic spread among the Greeks. He is surprised by its absence in the Iliad and its presence in the Odyssey. He isn't sure if Orpheus should be considered a magician and notes that Thessaly was known for its witches at least as early as the time of Menander, who named one of his comedies after them. However, he believes Osthanes, who traveled with Xerxes, was the main person who introduced magic to the Greek-speaking world, which quickly became enamored with it. To learn more about it, philosophers like Pythagoras, Empedocles, Democritus, and Plato went into distant exile and then shared their knowledge upon their return. Pliny considers Democritus's works as the most significant contributor to the spread of magical doctrines, which coincided with the development of medicine through Hippocrates's work. Some[Pg 59] claimed that the magic books attributed to Democritus were fake, but Pliny argues that they are real.[190]

Its spread outside the Graeco-Roman world.

Outside of the Greek-speaking world, whence of course magic spread to Rome, Pliny mentions Jewish magic, represented by such names as Moses, Jannes, and Lotapes. But he holds that magic did not originate among the Hebrews until long after Zoroaster. He also speaks of the magic of Cyprus; of the Druids, who were the magicians, diviners, and medicine men of Gaul until the emperor Tiberius suppressed them; and of distant Britain.[191] Thus discordant nations and even those ignorant of one another’s existence agree the world over in their devotion to magic. From what Pliny tells us elsewhere of the Scythians we can see that the nomads of the Russian steppes and Turkestan were devoted to magic too.

Outside the Greek-speaking world, where magic naturally spread to Rome, Pliny mentions Jewish magic, highlighted by figures like Moses, Jannes, and Lotapes. However, he claims that magic didn’t begin among the Hebrews until long after Zoroaster. He also refers to the magic of Cyprus; the Druids, who served as magicians, diviners, and medicine men in Gaul until the emperor Tiberius shut them down; and distant Britain. Thus, different nations, even those unaware of each other’s existence, share a global devotion to magic. From what Pliny tells us about the Scythians, we can also see that the nomads of the Russian steppes and Turkestan were dedicated to magic as well.

Failure to understand its true origin.

It has been shown that Pliny regarded magic as a mass of doctrines formulated by a single founder and not as a gradual social evolution, just as the Greeks and Romans ascribed their laws and customs to some single legislator. He admits in a way, however, the great antiquity claimed by magic for itself, although he questions how the bulky dicta of Zoroaster and Dardanus could have been handed down by memory during so long a period. This remark again shows how little he thinks of magic as a set of social customs and attitudes perpetuated through constant and universal practice from generation to generation. Yet what he says of its widespread prevalence among unconnected peoples goes to prove this.

It has been shown that Pliny viewed magic as a collection of teachings created by a single founder, rather than a gradual development over time. This is similar to how the Greeks and Romans attributed their laws and customs to individual lawmakers. However, he does acknowledge the ancient roots magic claims for itself, even though he questions how the complex teachings of Zoroaster and Dardanus could have been passed down from memory for such an extended period. This comment again highlights how little he perceives magic as a set of social customs and attitudes continuously practiced across generations. Nevertheless, his observations about its widespread existence among different groups of people support this idea.

Magic and divination.

Pliny has a clearer comprehension of the extensive scope of magic and of its essential characteristics, at least as it was in his day. “No one should wonder,” he says, “that its authority has been very great, since alone of the arts it has[Pg 60] embraced and united with itself the three other subjects which make the greatest appeal to the human mind,” namely, medicine, religion, and the arts of divination, especially astrology. That his phrase artes mathematicas has reference to astrology is shown by his immediately continuing, “since there is no one who is not eager to learn the future about himself and who does not think that this is most truly revealed by the sky.” But magic further “promises to reveal the future by water and spheres and air and stars and lamps and basins and the blades of axes and by many other methods, besides conferences with shades from the infernal regions.” There can therefore be no doubt that Pliny regards the various arts of divination as parts of magic.

Pliny has a clearer understanding of the wide range of magic and its key features, at least as it was in his time. “No one should be surprised,” he says, “that its power has been very significant, since it alone of the arts has[Pg 60] included and integrated the three other subjects that most captivate the human mind,” specifically, medicine, religion, and the arts of divination, especially astrology. His use of the term artes mathematicas refers to astrology, as he goes on to say, “since there's no one who isn't eager to learn about their future and who doesn't believe that this is truly revealed by the sky.” Additionally, magic “promises to reveal the future through water, spheres, air, stars, lamps, basins, blades of axes, and many other methods, including consultations with spirits from the underworld.” Therefore, it's clear that Pliny sees the different arts of divination as elements of magic.

Magic and religion.

While we have heard Pliny assert in general the close connection between magic and religion, the character of the Natural History, which deals with natural rather than religious matters, does not lead him to enter into much further detail upon this point. His occasional mention of religious usages in his own day, however, supports our information from other sources that the original Roman religion was very largely composed of magic forces, rules, and ceremonial.

While we've heard Pliny state the strong link between magic and religion, the nature of the Natural History, which focuses on natural rather than religious subjects, doesn’t encourage him to explore this topic in much detail. However, his occasional references to religious practices in his own time support what we learn from other sources: that the original Roman religion was mainly made up of magical forces, rules, and rituals.

Magic and medicine.

Nearly half the books of the Natural History deal in whole or in part with remedies for diseases, and it is therefore of the relations between magic and natural science, and more particularly between magic and medicine, that Pliny gives us the most detailed information. Indeed, he asserts that “no one doubts” that magic “originally sprang from medicine and crept in under the show of promoting health as a loftier and more sacred medicine.” Magic and medicine have developed together, and the latter is now in imminent danger of being overwhelmed by the follies of magic, which have made men doubt whether plants possess any medicinal properties.

Nearly half the books in the Natural History focus, in whole or in part, on remedies for diseases. As a result, Pliny provides us with detailed insights into the connections between magic and natural science, especially the relationship between magic and medicine. He even claims that “no one doubts” that magic “originally came from medicine and infiltrated under the guise of promoting health as a higher and more sacred form of medicine.” Magic and medicine have evolved together, and now medicine is at serious risk of being overshadowed by the absurdities of magic, which have led people to question whether plants have any healing properties.

Magic and philosophy.

In the opinion of many, however, magic is sound and beneficial learning. In antiquity, and for that matter at almost all times, the height of literary fame and glory has[Pg 61] been sought from that science.[192] Eudoxus would have it the most noted and useful of all schools of philosophy. Empedocles and Plato studied it; Pythagoras and Democritus perpetuated it in their writings.

Many believe that magic is a valuable and beneficial area of study. Throughout history, and particularly in ancient times, achieving fame and recognition in literature has often been linked to this knowledge. Eudoxus considered it to be the most significant and useful of all philosophical schools. Empedocles and Plato explored it, while Pythagoras and Democritus wrote about it in their works.

Falseness of magic.

But Pliny himself feels that the assertions of the books of magic are fantastic, exaggerated, and untrue. He repeatedly brands the magi or magicians as fools or impostors, and their statements as absurd and impudent tissues of lies.[193] Vanitas, or “nonsense,” is his stock-word for their beliefs.[194] Some of their writings must, in his opinion, have been dictated by a feeling of contempt and derision for humanity.[195] Nero proved the falseness of the art, for although he studied magic eagerly and with his unlimited wealth and power had every opportunity to become a skilful practitioner, he was unable to work any marvels and abandoned the attempt.[196] Pliny therefore comes to the conclusion that magic is “invalid and empty, yet has some shadows of truth, which however are due more to poisons than to magic.”[197]

But Pliny himself thinks that the claims made in magical texts are outrageous, exaggerated, and false. He repeatedly calls the magi or magicians fools or frauds, and their claims as ridiculous and shameless lies. Vanitas, or “nonsense,” is his go-to term for their beliefs. He believes that some of their writings must have been inspired by a sense of contempt and ridicule for humanity. Nero demonstrated the falsehood of magic, because even though he eagerly studied it and, with his limitless wealth and power, had all the chances to become a talented magician, he couldn’t perform any wonders and eventually gave up. Therefore, Pliny concludes that magic is “invalid and empty, yet has some shadows of truth, which however are due more to poisons than to magic.”

Crimes of magic.

The last remark brings us to charges of evil practices made against the magicians. Besides poisons, they specialize in love-potions and drugs to produce abortions;[198] and some of their operations are inhuman or obscene and abominable. They attempt baleful sorcery or the transfer of disease from one person to another.[199] Osthanes and even Democritus propound such remedies as drinking human blood or utilizing in magic compounds and ceremonies parts of the corpses of men who have been violently slain.[200] Pliny thinks that humanity owes a great debt to the Roman government[Pg 62] for abolishing those monstrous rites of human sacrifice, “in which to slay a man was thought most pious; nay more, to eat men was thought most wholesome.”[201]

The last comment leads us to accusations of wrongdoing against the magicians. In addition to poisons, they specialize in love potions and drugs for causing abortions; [198] and some of their practices are inhumane, obscene, and horrific. They engage in malevolent sorcery or the transfer of illness from one person to another.[199] Osthanes and even Democritus suggest such remedies as drinking human blood or incorporating body parts of violently killed individuals into magical mixtures and rituals.[200] Pliny believes that humanity owes a significant debt to the Roman government[Pg 62] for putting an end to those horrific rites of human sacrifice, “where killing a man was considered the most pious act; furthermore, consuming human flesh was regarded as the healthiest choice.”[201]

Pliny’s censure of magic is mainly intellectual.

Pliny nevertheless lays less stress upon the moral argument against magic as criminal or indecent than he does upon the intellectual objection to it as untrue and unscientific. Indeed, so far as decency is concerned, his own medicine will be seen to be far from prudish, while he elsewhere gives instances of magicians guarding against defilement.[202] Moreover, among the methods employed and the results sought by magic which he frequently mentions there are comparatively few that are morally objectionable, although they seem without exception false. But many of their recipes aim at the cure of disease and other worthy, or at least admissible, objects. Possibly Pliny has somewhat censored their lore and tried to exclude all criminal secrets, but his censure seems more intellectual than moral. For instance, he fills a long chapter with extracts from a treatise on the virtues of the chameleon and its parts by Democritus, whom he regards as a leading purveyor of magic lore.[203] In opening the chapter Pliny hails “with great pleasure” the opportunity to expose “the lies of Greek vanity,” but at its close he expresses a wish that Democritus himself had been touched with the branch of a palm which he said prevents immoderate loquacity. Pliny then adds more charitably, “It is evident that this man, who in other respects was a wise and most useful member of society, has erred from too great zeal in serving humanity.”

Pliny, however, emphasizes the intellectual argument against magic as false and unscientific more than the moral argument against it as criminal or indecent. In fact, regarding decency, his own medical practices are quite open-minded, while he also gives examples of magicians taking steps to avoid contamination. Moreover, among the methods used and the results sought in magic that he frequently references, there are relatively few that raise moral concerns, even though they all appear to be false. However, many of their remedies aim at healing diseases and other worthy, or at least acceptable, goals. It’s possible that Pliny has somewhat edited their knowledge and tried to filter out any criminally related information, but his critique seems more focused on intellect than on morality. For example, he dedicates a long chapter to excerpts from a treatise on the virtues of the chameleon and its parts by Democritus, whom he views as a key source of magical knowledge. In the opening of the chapter, Pliny expresses “great pleasure” at the chance to reveal “the lies of Greek arrogance,” but by the end, he wishes that Democritus had been touched by the branch of a palm that he claimed prevents excessive talking. Pliny then adds more generously, “It’s clear that this man, who was wise and very beneficial to society in other respects, has made a mistake out of too much zeal in helping humanity.”

Vagueness of Pliny’s scepticism.

Pliny himself fails to maintain a consistently sceptical attitude towards magic. His exact attitude is often hard to determine. Often it is difficult to say whether he is speaking in sober earnest or in a tone of light and easy pleasantry and sarcasm, as in the passage just cited concerning Democritus. Another puzzling point is his frequent excuse that he will list certain assertions of the magicians in order to[Pg 63] expose or confute them. But really he usually simply sets them forth, apparently expecting that their inherent and patent absurdity will prove a sufficient refutation of them. On the rare occasions when he undertakes to indicate in what the absurdity consists his reasoning is scarcely scientific or convincing. Thus he affirms that “it is a peculiar proof of the vanity of the magicians that of all animals they most admire moles who are condemned by nature in so many ways, to perpetual blindness and to dig in the darkness as if they were buried.”[204] And he assails the belief of the magi[205] that an owl’s egg is good for diseases of the scalp by asking, “Who, I beg, could ever have seen an owl’s egg, since it is a prodigy to see the bird itself?” Moreover, he sometimes cites assertions of the magicians without any censure, apology, or expression of disbelief; and there are many other passages where it is practically impossible to tell whether he is citing the magicians or not. Sometimes he will apparently continue to refer to them by a pronoun in chapters where they have not been mentioned by name at all.[206] In other places he will imperceptibly cease to quote the magi and after an interval perhaps as imperceptibly resume citation of their doctrines.[207] It is also difficult to determine just when writers like Democritus and Pythagoras are to be regarded as representatives of magic and when their statements are accepted by Pliny as those of sound philosophers.

Pliny himself doesn't consistently maintain a skeptical view of magic. His exact stance is often hard to pin down. It's sometimes difficult to tell if he's speaking seriously or with a light, easy tone filled with sarcasm, like in the passage about Democritus. Another confusing aspect is his usual excuse that he will list certain claims of the magicians to[Pg 63] expose or refute them. In reality, he typically just presents them, seemingly expecting their obvious absurdity to be enough to disprove them. On the rare occasions he tries to explain the absurdity, his reasoning isn't very scientific or convincing. For instance, he claims, “it is a peculiar proof of the vanity of the magicians that of all animals they most admire moles, which are condemned by nature in so many ways, to perpetual blindness and to digging in darkness as if they were buried.”[204] He also questions the magicians' belief that an owl's egg is good for scalp diseases by asking, “Who, I ask, could ever have seen an owl's egg, since seeing the bird itself is a wonder?” Moreover, he sometimes cites claims from the magicians without any criticism, apology, or display of disbelief; and there are many instances where it’s nearly impossible to determine if he’s quoting the magicians or not. Occasionally, he seems to refer to them by a pronoun in chapters where they haven't been named at all.[206] In other sections, he may subtly stop quoting the magi and then, after a while, just as subtly start referencing their ideas again.[207] It's also tough to figure out when thinkers like Democritus and Pythagoras should be seen as examples of magic and when Pliny considers their statements to be those of sound philosophers.

Magic and science indistinguishable.

Perhaps, despite Pliny’s occasional brave efforts to withstand and even ridicule the assertions of the magicians, he could not free himself from a secret liking for them and more than half believed them. At any rate he believed very similar things. Even more likely is it that previous works on nature were so full of such material and the readers of his own day so interested in it, that he could not but include[Pg 64] much of it. Once he explains[208] that certain statements are scarcely to be taken seriously, yet should not be omitted, because they have been transmitted from the past. Again he begs the reader’s indulgence for similar “vanities of the Greeks,” “because this too has its value that we should know whatever marvels they have transmitted.”[209] The truth of the matter probably is that Pliny rejected some assertions of the magicians but found others acceptable; that he gets his occasional attitude of scepticism and ridicule of their doctrines from one set of authorities, and his moments of unquestioning acceptance of their statements from other authors on whom he relies. Very likely in the books which he used it often was no clearer than it is in the Natural History whether a statement was to be ascribed to the magi or not. Very possibly Pliny was as confused in his own mind concerning the entire business as he seems to be to us. He could no more keep magic out of his Natural History than poor Mr. Dick could keep Charles the First’s head out of his book. One fact at any rate stands out clearly, the prominence of magic in his encyclopedia and in the learning of his age.

Perhaps, despite Pliny’s occasional brave attempts to challenge and even mock the claims of the magicians, he couldn't shake off a secret fondness for them and probably believed them more than he let on. Regardless, he held very similar beliefs. It's even more likely that earlier works on nature contained so much of this material and that the readers of his time were so interested in it that he felt compelled to include[Pg 64] a lot of it. He explains at one point that certain statements shouldn't be taken seriously, yet should not be left out because they've been passed down through history. Again, he asks the reader to bear with him regarding similar “foolishness of the Greeks,” “because this also has its value in knowing whatever wonders they have conveyed.” The truth is probably that Pliny dismissed some claims of the magicians but accepted others; he derives his occasional skepticism and ridicule of their beliefs from one group of sources, while his moments of unquestioning acceptance come from other authors he trusts. In the texts he referred to, it often wasn’t clear whether a statement should be attributed to the magi or not. It’s likely that Pliny was just as confused about the entire matter as he appears to us. He couldn't keep magic out of his Natural History any more than poor Mr. Dick could keep Charles the First’s head out of his book. One fact remains clear: the prominence of magic in his encyclopedia and in the knowledge of his time.

IV. The Science of the Magi

Magicians as investigators of nature.

Let us now further examine Pliny’s picture of magic, not as he expressly defines or censures it, but as he reflects its own assertions and purposes in his fairly numerous citations from its literature and perhaps its practice. Here I shall rather strictly limit my survey to those statements which Pliny definitely ascribes by name to the magi or magic art. The most striking fact is that the magicians are cited again and again concerning the supposed properties, virtues, and effects of things in nature—herbs, animals, and stones. These virtues are, it is true, often employed in an effort to produce wonderful results, and often too they are combined with some fantastic rite or superstitious ceremonial performed by a human agent. But in many cases either no[Pg 65] rite at all is suggested or merely some simple medicinal application; and in a few cases there is no mention of any particular operation or result, the magicians are cited simply as authorities concerning the great but unspecified virtues of natural objects. Indeed, they stand out in Pliny’s pages not as mere sorcerers or enchanters or wonder-workers, but as those who have gone the farthest and in most detail—too far and too curiously in Pliny’s opinion—into the study of medicine and of nature. Sometimes their statements, cited without censure, supplement others concerning the species under discussion;[210] sometimes they are his sole source of information on the subject in hand.[211]

Let’s take a closer look at Pliny’s view of magic, not just how he defines or criticizes it, but how he reflects its claims and purposes through his various quotes from its literature and possibly its practice. Here, I will focus specifically on the statements that Pliny attributes directly to the magi or the magic art. The most notable point is that the magicians are repeatedly cited regarding the supposed properties, virtues, and effects of natural things—like herbs, animals, and stones. It’s true that these virtues are often used to achieve remarkable results, and they frequently involve some elaborate ritual or superstitious ceremony performed by a person. However, in many instances, there’s either no rite suggested or just a simple medicinal use; in a few cases, there’s no mention of any specific action or outcome, and the magicians are cited simply as experts on the great but unspecified virtues of natural objects. Indeed, they appear in Pliny’s writings not merely as sorcerers or enchanters, but as those who have delved the deepest—too deeply and too curiously, in Pliny’s view—into the study of medicine and nature. Sometimes their statements, quoted without criticism, add to other discussions about the species in question; sometimes they are his only source of information on the topic at hand.

The magi on herbs.

Pliny connects the origin of botany rather closely with magic, mentioning Medea and Circe as early investigators of plants and Orpheus among the first writers on the subject.[212] Moreover, Pythagoras and Democritus borrowed from the magi of the orient in their works on the properties of plants.[213] There would be little profit in repeating the names of the herbs concerning which Pliny gives opinions of the magicians, inasmuch as few of them can be associated with any plants known to-day.[214] Suffice it to say that Pliny makes no objection to the herbs which they employed. Nor does he criticize their methods of employing them, although some seem superstitious enough to the modern reader. A chaplet is worn of one herb,[215] others are plucked with the left hand and with a statement of what they are to be used for, and in one case without looking backward.[216] The anemone is to be plucked when it first appears that year with a statement of its intended use, and then is to be wrapped in a red cloth and kept in the shade, and, whenever anyone falls sick of tertian or quartan fever, is to be bound on the patient’s body.[217] The heliotrope is not to be plucked at all but[Pg 66] tied in three or four knots with a prayer that the patient may recover to untie the knots.[218]

Pliny closely links the start of botany with magic, noting Medea and Circe as early researchers of plants, and Orpheus as one of the first writers on the topic.[212] Additionally, Pythagoras and Democritus drew from the magi of the East in their writings about the properties of plants.[213] It wouldn’t be very useful to list the herbs that Pliny discusses in connection with the magicians since few of them can be linked to any plants we recognize today.[214] It's enough to say that Pliny doesn’t disapprove of the herbs they used. He also doesn’t criticize their methods, even though some might seem quite superstitious to today’s readers. One herb is worn as a chaplet,[215] others are picked with the left hand while stating their intended use, and in one instance, without looking back.[216] The anemone should be picked when it first appears that year while stating its intended use, then wrapped in a red cloth and kept in the shade, and whenever someone suffers from tertian or quartan fever, it should be bound to the patient’s body.[217] The heliotrope is not to be picked at all but[Pg 66] tied in three or four knots with a prayer for the patient’s recovery to untie the knots.[218]

Marvelous virtues of herbs.

Pliny does not even object to the marvelous results which the magi think can be gained by use of herbs until towards the close of his twenty-fourth book, although already in his twentieth and twenty-first books such powers have been claimed for herbs as to make one well-favored and enable one to attain one’s desires,[219] or to give one grace and glory.[220] At the end of his twenty-fourth book[221] he states that Pythagoras and Democritus, following the magi, ascribe to herbs unusually marvelous virtues such as to freeze water, invoke spirits, force the guilty to confess by frightening them with apparitions, and impart the gift of divination. Early in his twenty-fifth book[222] Pliny suggests that some incredible effects have been attributed to herbs by the magi and their disciples, and in a later chapter[223] he describes the magi as so mad about vervain that they think that if they are anointed with it, they can gain their wishes, drive away fevers and other diseases, and make friendships. The herb should be plucked about the rising of the dog-star when there is neither sun nor moon. Honey and honeycomb should be offered to appease the earth; then the plant should be dug around with iron with the left hand and raised aloft. By the time he reaches his twenty-sixth book Pliny’s courage has risen, so to speak, enough to cause him at last to enter upon quite a tirade against “magical vanities which have been carried so far that they might destroy faith in herbs entirely.”[224] As examples he mentions herbs supposed to dry up rivers and swamps, open barred doors at their touch, turn hostile armies to flight, and supply all the needs of the ambassadors of the Persian kings. He wonders why such herbs have never been employed in Roman warfare or Italian drainage. Pliny’s only objection to magic herbs therefore seems to be the excessive powers which are claimed for some of them.[Pg 67] He adds that it would be strange that the credulity which arose from such wholesome beginnings had reached such a pitch, if human ingenuity observed moderation in anything and if the much more recent system of medicine which Asclepiades founded could not be shown to have been carried even beyond the magicians. Here again we see Pliny failing to recognize magic as a primitive social product and regarding it as a degeneration from ancient science rather than science as a comparatively modern development from it. But he may well be right in thinking that many particular far-fetched recipes and rites were the late, artificial product of over-scholarly magicians. Thus he brands as false and magical the assertion of a recent grammarian, Apion, that the herb cynocephalia is divine and a safeguard against poison, but kills the man who uproots it entirely.[225]

Pliny doesn't even push back against the amazing results that the magi claim can come from using herbs until the end of his twenty-fourth book. However, in his twentieth and twenty-first books, he has already mentioned such powers for herbs that can enhance one's appearance and help achieve one's desires, or provide grace and glory. By the end of his twenty-fourth book[221], he notes that Pythagoras and Democritus, following the magi, attribute extraordinary powers to herbs, such as freezing water, summoning spirits, forcing the guilty to confess by scaring them with apparitions, and giving the gift of prophecy. Early in his twenty-fifth book[222], Pliny points out that some unbelievable effects have been given to herbs by the magi and their followers. In a later chapter[223], he describes the magi as being so obsessed with vervain that they believe that if they anoint themselves with it, they can fulfill their wishes, drive away fevers and other illnesses, and form friendships. The herb should be picked when the dog-star rises, with neither sun nor moon present. Honey and honeycomb should be offered to appease the earth; then the plant should be dug up with iron using the left hand and lifted up high. By the time he reaches his twenty-sixth book, Pliny's confidence has grown, leading him to finally launch into a strong critique of "magical vanities that have gone so far as to potentially destroy faith in herbs entirely."[224] He cites examples of herbs believed to dry up rivers and swamps, open locked doors just by touching them, scatter hostile armies, and meet all the needs of ambassadors from Persian kings. He questions why such herbs have never been used in Roman battles or Italian drainage. Pliny's main objection to magic herbs seems to be the exaggerated powers claimed for some of them.[Pg 67] He adds that it would be strange if the gullibility stemming from such beneficial beginnings reached such extremes, especially if human creativity practiced moderation in anything and if the much newer medical system founded by Asclepiades couldn’t be shown to have gone even beyond that of the magicians. Once again, Pliny fails to see magic as a primitive social product and views it instead as a decline from ancient science rather than seeing science as a more modern evolution from it. But he might be correct in thinking that many specific outlandish recipes and rituals were the later, artificial creation of overly academic magicians. He dismisses as false and magical the claim of a recent grammarian, Apion, that the herb cynocephalia is divine and a safeguard against poison, yet kills the person who uproots it completely.[225]

Animals and parts of animals.

In a few cases Pliny objects to the animals or parts of animals employed by the magi, as in the passage already cited where he complains that they admire moles more than any other animals.[226] But his assertion is inconsistent, since he has already affirmed that they hold the hyena in most admiration of all animals on the ground that it works magic upon men.[227] Their promise of readier favor with peoples and kings to those who anoint themselves with lion’s fat, especially that between the eyebrows, he criticizes by declaring that no fat can be found there.[228] He also twits the magi for magnifying the importance of so nasty a creature as the tick.[229] They are attracted to it by the fact that it has no outlet to its body and can live only seven days even if it fasts. Whether there is any astrological significance in the number seven here Pliny does not say. He does inform us, however, that the cricket is employed in magic because it moves backward.[230] A very bizarre object employed by the Druids and other magicians is a sort of egg produced by the hissing or foam of snakes.[231] The blood of the basilisk may also be[Pg 68] classed as a rarity. Apparently animals in some way unusual are preferred in magic, like a black sheep,[232] but the logic in the reasons given by Pliny for their selection is not clear in every instance. In some other cases not criticized by Pliny[233] we have plainly enough sympathetic magic or the principle of like cures like, as when the milt of a calf or sheep is used to cure diseases of the human spleen.

In a few cases, Pliny criticizes the animals or animal parts used by the magi, like in the previously mentioned passage where he complains that they favor moles more than any other animals. [226] But his argument is contradictory since he has already claimed that they admire the hyena above all other animals because it works magic on people. [227] He criticizes their promise of gaining favor with people and kings for those who rub lion's fat on themselves, especially between the eyebrows, by stating that there's no fat to be found there. [228] He also mocks the magi for elevating the importance of such a disgusting creature as the tick. [229] They are drawn to it because it has no outlet for its body and can only live for seven days even if it doesn't eat. Pliny doesn't mention whether the number seven here has any astrological significance. However, he tells us that the cricket is used in magic because it moves backward. [230] A very strange object used by the Druids and other magicians is a type of egg produced by the hissing or foam of snakes. [231] The blood of the basilisk could also be considered a rarity. Apparently, unusual animals are preferred in magic, like a black sheep, [232] but the reasoning behind the choices Pliny gives isn't always clear. In some other cases that Pliny does not criticize [233], we can definitely see sympathetic magic or the principle of like cures like, such as when the milt of a calf or sheep is used to treat diseases of the human spleen.

Further instances.

The magicians, however, do not scorn to use familiar and easily obtainable animals like the goat and dog and cat. The liver and dung of a cat, a puppy’s brains, the blood and genitals of a dog, and the gall of a black male dog are among the animal substances employed.[234] Such substances as those just named are equally in demand from other animals.[235] Minute parts of animals are frequently employed by the magicians, such as the toe of an owl, the liver of a mouse given in a fig, the tooth of a live mole, the stones from young swallows’ gizzards, the eyes of river crabs.[236] Sometimes the part employed is reduced to ashes, perhaps a relic of sacrificial custom. Thus for toothache the magi inject into the ear nearer the tooth the ashes of the head of a mad dog and oil of Cyprus, while they prescribe for affections of the sinews the ashes of an owl’s head in honied wine with lily root.[237] Other living creatures which Pliny mentions as used by the magi are the salamander, earthworm, bat, scarab with reflex horns, lizard, tortoise, bed-bug, frog, and sea-urchin.[238] The dragon’s tail wrapped in a gazelle’s skin and bound on with deer-sinews cures epilepsy,[239] and a mixture of the dragon’s tongue, eyes, gall, and intestines, boiled in oil, cooled in the night air, and rubbed on morning and evening, frees one from nocturnal apparitions.[240]

The magicians, however, don’t hesitate to use common and easily available animals like goats, dogs, and cats. The liver and dung of a cat, a puppy’s brains, the blood and genitals of a dog, and the gall of a black male dog are among the animal parts used. [234] Similar parts from other animals are also in demand. [235] Tiny parts from animals are often used by the magicians, such as an owl’s toe, a mouse’s liver given in a fig, a live mole’s tooth, stones from young swallows’ gizzards, and the eyes of river crabs. [236] Sometimes, the part used is turned into ashes, possibly a remnant of a sacrificial tradition. For toothache, the magicians put the ashes of a mad dog’s head and Cyprus oil into the ear closer to the tooth, while they recommend a treatment for sinew issues that includes the ashes of an owl’s head mixed in honeyed wine with lily root. [237] Other living creatures mentioned by Pliny that are used by the magicians include salamanders, earthworms, bats, scarabs with reflex horns, lizards, tortoises, bed-bugs, frogs, and sea urchins. [238] A dragon’s tail wrapped in a gazelle’s skin and tied with deer sinews can cure epilepsy, [239] and a concoction of a dragon’s tongue, eyes, gall, and intestines, boiled in oil, cooled in the night air, and applied morning and evening, can protect one from nighttime apparitions. [240]

Magic rites with animals and parts of animals.

Sometimes the parts of animals are bound on outside the patient’s body, sometimes the injured portion of his body[Pg 69] is merely touched with them. Once the whole house is to be fumigated with the substance in question;[241] once the walls are to be sprinkled with it; once it is to be buried under the threshold. Some instances follow of more elaborate magic ritual connected with the use of animals or parts of animals. The hyena is more easily captured by a hunter who ties seven knots in his girdle and horsewhip, and it should be captured when the moon is in the sign of Gemini and without the loss of a single hair.[242] Another bit of astrology dispensed by the magi is that the cat, whose salted liver is taken with wine for quartan fever, should have been killed under a waning moon.[243] To cure incontinence of urine one not only drinks ashes of a boar’s genitals in sweet wine, but afterwards urinates in a dog kennel and repeats the formula, “That I may not urinate like a dog in its kennel.”[244] The magicians insist that the sex of the patient be observed in administering burnt cow-dung or bull-dung in honied wine for cases of dropsy.[245] For infantile ailments the brains of a she-goat should be passed through a gold ring and dropped in the baby’s mouth before it is given its milk.[246] After the fresh milt of a sheep has been applied to the patient with the words, “This I do for the cure of the spleen,” it should be plastered into the bedroom wall and sealed with a ring, while the charm should be repeated twenty-seven times.[247] In treating sciatica[248] an earthworm should be placed in a broken wooden dish mended with an iron band, the dish should be filled with water, the worm should be buried again where it was dug up, and the water should be drunk by the patient. The eyes of river crabs are to be attached to the patient’s person before sunrise and the blinded crabs put back into the water.[249] After it has been carried around the house thrice a bat may be nailed head down outside a window as an amulet.[250] For epilepsy goat’s flesh should be[Pg 70] given which has been roasted on a funeral pyre, and the animal’s gall should not be allowed to touch the ground.[251]

Sometimes animal parts are attached to the outside of the patient's body, and other times the injured area is just touched with them. Sometimes, the whole house needs to be fumigated with the substance in question; other times, the walls should be sprinkled with it; and sometimes it has to be buried under the threshold. Here are some examples of more complex magical rituals involving animals or their parts. A hunter can more easily capture a hyena if he ties seven knots in his belt and whip, and it should be captured when the moon is in Gemini without losing a single hair. Another astrological insight from the magi is that the liver of a cat, which is salted and taken with wine for quartan fever, should be from a cat killed during a waning moon. To treat incontinence, one must not only drink ashes from a boar's genitals in sweet wine, but also urinate in a dog kennel and recite, "That I may not urinate like a dog in its kennel." The magicians stress the need to consider the patient's sex when using burnt cow dung or bull dung in honeyed wine for dropsy. For childhood illnesses, the brains of a she-goat should be passed through a gold ring and placed in the baby's mouth before giving it milk. After applying the fresh milt of a sheep to the patient while saying, “This I do for the cure of the spleen,” it should be plastered onto the bedroom wall and sealed with a ring, while the charm is repeated twenty-seven times. For treating sciatica, an earthworm should be placed in a broken wooden bowl fixed with an iron band, filled with water, buried again where it was found, and the water should be drunk by the patient. The eyes of river crabs should be attached to the patient's body before sunrise, and the blinded crabs should be returned to the water. After a bat has been carried around the house three times, it can be nailed head down outside a window as an amulet. For epilepsy, goat flesh should be given, roasted on a funeral pyre, and the gall should not touch the ground.

Marvels wrought with parts of animals.

Pliny occasionally speaks in a vague general way of his citations from the magi concerning the virtues of parts of animals as lies or nonsense or “portentous,” but he does not specifically criticize their procedure any more than he did their methods of employing herbs, and he does not criticize their promised results as much as he did before. Indeed, as we have already indicated, the object in a majority of cases is purely medicinal. The purpose of others is pastoral or agricultural, such as preventing goats from straying or causing swine to follow you.[252] The blood of the basilisk, however, is said to procure answers to petitions made to the powerful and prayers addressed to the gods, and to act as a safeguard against poison or sorcery (veneficiorum amuleta).[253] Invincibility is promised the wearer of the head and tail of a dragon, hairs from a lion’s forehead, a lion’s marrow, the foam of a winning horse, a dog’s claw bound in deer-skin, and the muscles alternately of a deer and a gazelle.[254] A woman will tell secrets in her sleep if the heart of an owl is applied to her right breast, and power of divination is gained by eating the still palpitating heart of a mole.[255]

Pliny sometimes vaguely mentions his references from the magi about the benefits of animal parts as lies, nonsense, or “portentous,” but he doesn't specifically critique their methods any more than he did with their herbal practices, nor does he question their promised outcomes as much as he did before. As we’ve noted, the main aim in most cases is purely medicinal. Other uses are pastoral or agricultural, like keeping goats from wandering or getting pigs to follow you. [252] The blood of the basilisk, however, is said to bring answers to requests made to the powerful and prayers directed at the gods, and to act as protection against poison or witchcraft (veneficiorum amuleta). [253] Wearing the head and tail of a dragon, hairs from a lion's forehead, a lion's marrow, the foam of a winning horse, a dog's claw wrapped in deer skin, and alternating muscles of a deer and a gazelle promises invincibility. [254] A woman will reveal secrets in her sleep if the heart of an owl is placed on her right breast, and you can gain the ability to foresee events by eating the still-beating heart of a mole. [255]

The magi on stones.

In the case of stones the names are again, as in the case of herbs, of little significance for us.[256] The accompanying ritual is slight. There are one or two suspensions from the neck or elsewhere by such means as a lion’s mane—the hair of the hyena will not do at all—nor the hair of the cynocephalus and swallows’ feathers.[257] There is some use of incantations with the stones, a setting of iron for one stone, burial of another beneath a tree that it may not dull the axe, and placing another on the tongue after rinsing the mouth with honey at certain days and hours of the moon in order to acquire the gift of divination.[258] Indeed, the results promised[Pg 71] are all marvelous. The stones benefit public speakers, admit to the presence of royalty, counteract fascination and sorcery, avert hail, thunderbolts, storms, locusts, and scorpions; chill boiling water, produce family discord, render athletes invincible, quench anger and violence, make one invisible, evoke images of the gods and shades from the infernal regions.

In the case of stones, their names are, like with herbs, not very meaningful for us.[256] The associated rituals are minimal. There are one or two pendants worn around the neck or elsewhere, using materials like a lion’s mane—the hair of a hyena won’t work at all—nor will the hair of a cynocephalus or feathers from swallows.[257] Some incantations are used with the stones, such as setting one stone in iron, burying another under a tree so it doesn’t dull the axe, and placing another on the tongue after rinsing the mouth with honey at specific days and times of the moon to gain the ability to see the future.[258] In fact, the promised results[Pg 71] are quite amazing. The stones help public speakers, reveal the presence of royalty, counteract bewitchment and sorcery, ward off hail, thunder, storms, locusts, and scorpions; cool boiling water, create family disputes, make athletes unbeatable, calm anger and violence, grant invisibility, and summon images of the gods and spirits from the underworld.

Other magical recipes.

We have yet to mention a group of magical recipes and remedies which Pliny for some reason collects in one chapter[259] but which hardly fall under any one head. A whetstone on which iron tools are sharpened, if placed without his knowledge under the pillow of a man who has been poisoned, will cause him to reveal all the circumstances of the crime. If you turn a man who has been struck by lightning over on his injured side, he will speak at once. To cure tumors in the groin, tie seven or nine knots in the remnant of a weaver’s web, naming some widow as each knot is tied. The pain is assuaged by binding to the body the nail that has been trod on. To get rid of warts, on the twentieth day of the moon lie flat in a path gazing at the moon, stretch the hands above the head and rub the warts with anything that comes to hand. A corn may be extracted successfully at the moment a star shoots. Headache may be relieved by a liniment made by pouring vinegar on door hinges or by binding a hangman’s noose about the patient’s temples. To dislodge a fish-bone stuck in the throat, plunge the feet into cold water; to dislodge some other sort of bone, place bones on the head; to dislodge a morsel of bread, stuff bits of bread into both ears. We may add from a neighboring chapter a very magical remedy for fevers, although Pliny calls it “the most modest of their promises.”[260] Toe and finger nail parings mixed with wax are to be attached ere sunrise to another person’s door in order to transfer the disease from the patient to him. Or they may be placed near an ant-hill, in which case the first ant who tries to drag one in[Pg 72]side the hill should be captured and suspended from the patient’s neck.

We still need to talk about a collection of magical recipes and remedies that Pliny somehow grouped together in one chapter[259] but that don’t really fit into any one category. A whetstone used for sharpening iron tools, if secretly placed under the pillow of someone who has been poisoned, will make them disclose all the details of the crime. If you flip a person who has been struck by lightning onto their injured side, they will immediately start talking. To treat tumors in the groin, tie seven or nine knots in a leftover piece of a weaver’s web while naming a widow with each knot. The pain can be eased by attaching the nail that was stepped on to the body. To remove warts, on the twentieth day of the moon, lie down flat on a path looking at the moon, stretch your arms above your head, and rub the warts with anything you can find. A corn can be successfully removed at the moment a shooting star appears. A headache can be relieved with a liniment made by pouring vinegar on door hinges or by binding a hangman’s noose around the patient’s temples. To remove a fishbone stuck in the throat, dip your feet in cold water; to dislodge another type of bone, put bones on your head; to remove a piece of bread, stuff bits of bread into both ears. We can also include from a nearby chapter a particularly magical remedy for fevers, even though Pliny calls it “the most modest of their promises.”[260] Nail clippings from fingers and toes mixed with wax should be attached to someone else’s door before sunrise to transfer the illness from the patient to them. Alternatively, they can be placed near an ant hill, and the first ant to try to drag one inside[Pg 72] should be caught and hung around the patient’s neck.

Summary of the statements of the magi.

Such is the picture we derive from numerous passages in the Natural History of the magic art, its materials and rites, the effects it seeks to produce, and its general attitude towards nature. Besides the natural materials employed and the marvelous results sought, we have noted the frequent use of ligatures, suspensions, and amulets, the observance of astrological conditions, of certain times and numbers, rules for plucking herbs and tying knots, stress on the use of the right or left hand—in other words, on position or direction, some employment of incantations, some sacrifice and fumigation, some specimens of sympathetic magic, of the theory that “like cures like,” and of other types of magic logic.

This is the picture we get from many passages in the Natural History regarding the magical arts, its materials and rituals, the effects it aims to achieve, and its overall relationship with nature. In addition to the natural materials used and the incredible results pursued, we’ve observed the common use of bindings, suspensions, and charms, adherence to astrological conditions, specific times and numbers, guidelines for gathering herbs and tying knots, an emphasis on using either the right or left hand—in other words, on position or direction, some use of incantations, some sacrifices and fumigations, and examples of sympathetic magic, the idea that “like cures like,” and other forms of magical reasoning.

V. Pliny’s Magical Science

From the magi to Pliny’s magic.

We may now turn to the still more numerous passages of the Natural History where the magi are not cited and compare the virtues there ascribed to the things of nature and the methods employed in medicine and agriculture with those of the magicians. We shall find many striking resemblances and shall soon come to a realization that there is more magic in the Natural History which is not attributed to the magi than there is that is. Pliny did not need to warn us that medicine had been corrupted by magic; his own medicine proves it. It is this fact, that virtually his entire work is crammed with marvelous properties and fantastic ceremonial, which makes it so difficult in some places to tell when he begins to draw material from the magi and when he leaves off. By a detailed analysis of this remaining material we shall now attempt to classify the substances of which Pliny makes use and the virtues which he ascribes to them, the rites and methods of procedure by which they are employed, and certain superstitious doctrines and notions which are involved. We shall thus find that almost precisely the same factors are present in his science as in the lore of the magicians.

We can now look at the many sections in the Natural History where the magi aren’t mentioned and compare the qualities attributed to natural things and the techniques used in medicine and agriculture with those of the magicians. We will find many striking similarities and soon realize there’s more magic in the Natural History that isn’t linked to the magi than there is that is. Pliny didn’t need to warn us that magic had tainted medicine; his own writings show it. The fact that nearly his entire work is filled with amazing properties and bizarre rituals makes it hard at times to distinguish when he starts referencing the magi and when he stops. Through a detailed analysis of the remaining material, we will attempt to categorize the substances Pliny uses, the qualities he attributes to them, the rituals and methods of application, and certain superstitious beliefs and ideas that are involved. We will find that almost exactly the same elements are present in his science as in the traditions of the magicians.

[Pg 73]

[Pg 73]

Habits of animals.

Of substances we may begin with animals,[261] and, before we note the human use of their virtues with its strong suggestion of magic, may remark another unscientific and superstitious feature which was very common both in ancient and medieval times. This is the tendency to humanize animals, ascribing to them conscious motives, habits, and ruses, or even moral standards and religious veneration. We shall have occasion to note the same thing in other authors and so will give but a few specimens from the many in the Natural History. Such qualities are attributed by Pliny especially to elephants, whom he ranks next to man in intelligence, and whom he represents as worshiping the stars, learning difficult tricks, and as having a sense of justice, feel[Pg 74]ing of mercy, and so on.[262] Similarly the lion has noble courage and a sense of gratitude, while the lioness is wily in the devices by which she conceals her amours with the pard.[263] A number of the devices of fishes to escape hooks and nets are repeated by Pliny from Ovid’s Halieuticon, extant only in fragments.[264] The crocodile opens its jaws to have its teeth picked by a friendly bird; but sometimes while this operation is being performed the ichneumon “darts down its throat like a javelin and eats away its intestines.”[265] Pliny also marvels at the cleverness displayed by the dragon and the elephant in their combats with one another,[266] which, however, almost invariably terminate fatally to both combatants, the elephant falling exhausted in the dragon’s coils and crushing the serpent by its weight. Others say that in the hot summer the dragons thirst for the blood of the elephant which is very cold; in their combat the elephant falls drained of its blood and crushes the dragon who is intoxicated by the same.

We can start with animals, and before we talk about how humans use their abilities with a hint of magic, let's point out another unscientific and superstitious aspect that was common in ancient and medieval times. This is the tendency to anthropomorphize animals, attributing conscious motives, habits, clever tricks, and even moral standards and religious reverence to them. We will see similar observations in other authors, so we’ll just share a few examples from the Natural History. Pliny, in particular, attributes these qualities to elephants, whom he ranks just below humans in intelligence, depicting them as worshipping the stars, learning complicated tricks, and possessing a sense of justice and mercy. Similarly, the lion is seen as having noble courage and a sense of gratitude, while the lioness cleverly hides her affairs with the pard. Pliny also recounts various tricks that fish use to escape hooks and nets, citing Ovid’s Halieuticon, which survives only in fragments. The crocodile opens its mouth to let a friendly bird clean its teeth; however, during this process, the ichneumon sometimes “dives down its throat like a spear and eats its insides.” Pliny is also impressed by the cunning exhibited by the dragon and the elephant when they fight each other, although these encounters almost always end fatally for both, with the elephant collapsing from exhaustion in the dragon's coils and crushing the snake under its weight. Others claim that during hot summers, dragons crave the cold blood of elephants; in the ensuing battle, the elephant collapses after losing its blood and crushes the dragon, who has become intoxicated from the blood.

Remedies discovered by animals.

The dragon’s apparent knowledge that the elephant is cold-blooded leads us to a kindred topic, the remedies used by animals and often discovered by men only by seeing animals use them. This notion continued in the middle ages, as we shall see, and of course it did not originate with Pliny. As he says himself, “The ancients have recorded the remedies of wild beasts and shown how they are healed even when poisoned.”[267] Against aconite the scorpion eats white hellebore as an antidote, while the panther employs human excrement.[268] Animals prepare themselves for combats with poisonous snakes by eating certain herbs; the weasel eats rue, the tortoise and deer use two other plants, while field mice who have been stung by snakes eat condrion.[269] The hawk tears open the hawkweed and sprinkles its eyes with the juice.[270] The serpent tastes fennel when it sheds its old[Pg 75] skin.[271] Sick bears cure themselves by a diet of ants.[272] Swallows restore the sight of their young with chelidonia or swallow-wort,[273] and the historian Xanthus says that the dragon restores its dead offspring to life with an herb called balis.[274] The hippopotamus was the original discoverer of bleeding,[275] opening a vein in his leg by wounding himself on sharp reeds along the shore, and afterwards checking the flow of blood by plastering the place with mud.[276] Pliny, however, states in one passage that animals hit upon all these remedies by chance and even have to rediscover them by accident in each new case, “since,” he continues in conformity with recent animal psychologists, “reason and practice cannot be transmitted between wild beasts.”[277]

The dragon’s obvious understanding that the elephant is cold-blooded leads us to a related topic: the treatments animals use, often discovered by humans by observing animals in action. This idea persisted in the Middle Ages, as we’ll see, and of course, it didn’t start with Pliny. As he notes, “The ancients have documented the remedies of wild animals and shown how they heal even after being poisoned.”[267] Against aconite, the scorpion consumes white hellebore as an antidote, while the panther uses human waste.[268] Animals prep themselves for encounters with poisonous snakes by eating specific herbs; the weasel eats rue, the tortoise and deer utilize two other plants, while field mice stung by snakes consume condrion.[269] The hawk tears into hawkweed and sprinkles its eyes with the juice.[270] The serpent tastes fennel as it sheds its old[Pg 75] skin.[271] Sick bears heal themselves by eating ants.[272] Swallows regain the sight of their young with chelidonia or swallow-wort,[273] and the historian Xanthus states that the dragon can bring its dead young back to life with a plant called balis.[274] The hippopotamus was the original discoverer of bleeding,[275] opening a vein in its leg by cutting itself on sharp reeds along the shore, then stopping the bleeding by covering the wound with mud.[276] However, Pliny mentions in one part that animals discover all these remedies by chance and even have to accidentally rediscover them each time, “since,” he continues according to modern animal psychologists, “reason and practice can’t be passed down between wild beasts.”[277]

Jealousy of animals.

Yet in another passage Pliny deplores the spitefulness of the dog which, while men are looking, will not pluck the herb by which it cures itself of snake-bite.[278] Probably Pliny is using different authorities in the two passages. Theophrastus, the pupil of Aristotle, had written a work on Jealous Animals. More excusable than the spitefulness of the dog is the attitude of the dragon, from whose brain the gem draconitis must be taken while the dragon is alive and preferably asleep. For if the dragon feels that it is mortally wounded, it takes revenge by spoiling the gem.[279] Elephants know that men hunt them only for their tusks, and so bury these when they fall off.[280]

Yet in another passage, Pliny laments the malice of the dog that won’t pull the herb it uses to heal itself from snake bites while people are watching. [278] Pliny is likely referring to different sources in these two passages. Theophrastus, a student of Aristotle, wrote a work on Jealous Animals. More understandable than the dog’s malice is the behavior of the dragon, from whose brain the gem draconitis must be extracted while the dragon is still alive and preferably asleep. If the dragon senses it is fatally injured, it seeks revenge by ruining the gem. [279] Elephants are aware that humans hunt them solely for their tusks, so they bury them when they fall off. [280]

Occult virtues of animals.

Animals have marvelous virtues of their own other than the medicinal uses to which men have put them. For instance, the mere glance of the basilisk is fatal, and its breath burns up vegetation and breaks rocks.[281] But the medicinal effects which Pliny ascribes to animals and parts of animals[Pg 76] are well nigh infinite. Many animal substances will have to be introduced in other connections so that we need mention now but a very few: the heads and blood of flies, honey in which bees have died, cinere genitalis asini, chicks in the egg, and thrice seven centipedes diluted with Attic honey,[282]—this last a prescription for asthma and to be taken through a reed because it blackens every dish by its contact. Another passage advises eating a rat or shrew-mouse in order to bear a baby with black eyes.[283] These items are enough to convince us that the animals and parts of animals employed by the magicians were not one whit more bizarre and nauseating than the others found in the Natural History, nor were the cures which they were expected to work any more improbable. In order to illustrate, however, the delicate distinctions which were imagined to exist not only between the virtues of different parts of the same animal, but also between slightly varied uses of the same part, we may note that scales scraped from the topmost part of a tortoise’s shell and administered in drink check sexual desire, considering which, it is, as Pliny remarks, the more marvelous that a powder made of the entire shell is reported to arouse lust.[284] But love turns readily to hatred in magic as well as in romance, and it is nothing very unusual, as we shall find in other authors, for the same thing on slight provocation to work in exactly opposite ways.

Animals have incredible qualities beyond the medicinal uses humans have found for them. For example, just looking at a basilisk can kill you, and its breath can destroy plants and shatter rocks.[281] However, the medicinal benefits that Pliny attributes to animals and their parts are nearly endless. Many animal substances will need to be discussed in other contexts, so we'll only mention a few now: the heads and blood of flies, honey mixed with dead bees, cinere genitalis asini, embryos of chicks, and three times seven centipedes mixed with Attic honey,[282]—the last being a remedy for asthma, which should be taken through a reed since it stains everything it touches. Another source suggests eating a rat or shrew-mouse to conceive a baby with black eyes.[283] These examples show us that the animals and parts used by magicians were no stranger or more revolting than those found in the Natural History, nor were the supposed cures any more outlandish. To illustrate the fine distinctions believed to exist not only between the qualities of different parts of the same animal but also between slightly different uses of the same part, we can point out that scales scraped from the top of a tortoise’s shell, when mixed in a drink, are believed to suppress sexual desire. In contrast, as Pliny notes, it's all the more astonishing that a powder made from the entire shell is said to stimulate lust.[284] But love can easily turn to hatred in magic just as in romance, and it’s not unusual, as we’ll see in other texts, for something to have completely opposite effects with just a slight change.

The virtues of herbs.

Pig grease, Pliny somewhere informs us, possesses especially strong virtue, “because that animal feeds on the roots of herbs.”[285] From the virtues of animals, therefore, let us turn to those of herbs.[286] Pliny met on every hand assertion of their wonderful powers. The empire-builders of Rome employed the sacred herbs sagmina and verbenae in their embassies and legations. The Gauls, too, use the verbena in[Pg 77] lot-casting and prophetic responses.[287] Pliny also states more sceptically that there is another root which diviners take in drink in order to feign inspiration.[288] The Scythians know of a plant which prevents hunger and thirst if held in the mouth, and of another which has the same effect upon their horses, so that they can go for twelve days without meat or drink,[289]—an exaggerated estimate of the hardihood of the mounted Asiatic nomads and their steeds. Musaeus and Hesiod say that one anointed with polion will attain fame and dignities.[290]

Pig fat, as Pliny tells us, has particularly strong benefits “because that animal eats the roots of herbs.”[285] So, from the benefits of animals, let's shift our focus to those of herbs.[286] Pliny encountered many claims about their extraordinary powers. The empire-builders of Rome used the sacred herbs sagmina and verbenae in their diplomatic missions. The Gauls also use verbena in[Pg 77] divination and prophecy.[287] Pliny also more skeptically mentions another root that fortune tellers drink to pretend they’re inspired.[288] The Scythians know of a plant that prevents hunger and thirst if held in the mouth, and another that has the same effect on their horses, allowing them to go twelve days without food or water,[289]—an exaggerated claim about the endurance of the mounted Asian nomads and their horses. Musaeus and Hesiod say that someone anointed with polion will achieve fame and high status.[290]

Pliny perhaps did not intend to subscribe fully to such statements, although he cannot be said to call many of them into question. He did complain that some writers had asserted incredible powers of herbs, such as to restore dragons or men to life or withdraw wedges from trees,[291] yet he seems on the whole in sympathy with the opinion of the majority that there is practically nothing which the force of herbs cannot accomplish. Herophilus, illustrious in medicine, had said that certain herbs were beneficial if merely trod upon, and Pliny himself says the same of more than one plant. He tells us further that binding the wild fig tree about their necks makes the fiercest bulls stand immobile;[292] that another plant subjects fractious beasts of burden to the yoke;[293] while cows who eat buprestis burst asunder.[294] Another herb contacto genitali kills any female animal.[295] Betony is considered an amulet for houses,[296] and fishermen in Pliny’s neighborhood mix a plant with chalk and scatter it on the waves.[297] “The fish dart towards it with marvelous desire and straightway float lifeless on the surface.” Dogs will not bark at persons carrying peristereos.[298] The “impious plant” prevents any human being who tastes it from having quinsy, while swine are sure to have that disease if they do not eat it.[Pg 78] Some place it in birds’ nests to prevent the voracious nestlings from strangling. Bitter almonds provide another amusing combination of effects. Eating five of them permits one to drink without experiencing intoxication, but if foxes eat them they will die unless they find water near by to drink.[299] There are some herbs which have a medicinal effect, if one merely looks at them.[300] In two cases the masculine or feminine variety of a herb is used to secure the birth of a child of the desired sex.[301]

Pliny may not have fully agreed with such claims, though he doesn’t dispute many of them. He did express frustration that some writers claimed unbelievable powers of herbs, like bringing dragons or people back to life or pulling wedges from trees, yet he seems largely in agreement with the common belief that there’s nearly nothing herbs can't do. Herophilus, a notable figure in medicine, said that certain herbs were effective just by being stepped on, and Pliny echoes this for several plants. He also notes that tying a wild fig tree around the necks of the fiercest bulls makes them stand still; another plant makes unruly working animals submit to the yoke; while cows that eat buprestis burst open. Another herb, contacto genitali, kills any female animal that consumes it. Betony is seen as a protective charm for homes, and fishermen in Pliny’s area mix a plant with chalk and sprinkle it on the waves. “The fish swim toward it with amazing eagerness and immediately float dead on the surface.” Dogs won’t bark at anyone carrying peristereos. The “sinful plant” ensures that anyone who tastes it is free from quinsy, while pigs are bound to get that illness if they don’t eat it. Some put it in bird nests to stop the greedy chicks from choking. Bitter almonds create another amusing set of effects. Eating five allows someone to drink without getting drunk, but if foxes eat them, they die unless they find nearby water to drink. There are some herbs that have a healing effect just from being looked at. In two instances, the male or female version of a herb is used to ensure the birth of a child of the preferred gender.[Pg 78]

Plucking herbs.

That the plucking of herbs and digging up of roots was a process very apt to be attended by magical procedure we find abundant evidence in the Natural History. Often plants should be plucked before sunrise.[302] Twice Pliny tells us that the peony should be uprooted by night lest the woodpecker of Mars try to pick the digger’s eyes out.[303] The state of the moon is another point to be observed,[304] and once an herb is to be gathered before thunder is heard.[305] A common instruction is to pick the plant with the left hand,[306] and once with the thumb and fourth finger of the left hand.[307] Once the right hand should be stretched covertly after the fashion of a pickpocket through the left sleeve in order to pluck the plant.[308] Sometimes one faces east in plucking herbs; sometimes, west; again one is careful not to face the wind.[309] Sometimes the gatherer must not glance behind him. Sometimes he must fast before he takes the plant from the ground;[310] again he must observe a state of chastity.[311] Sometimes he should be barefoot and clothed in white; again he should remove every stitch of clothing and even his rings.[312] Sometimes the use of iron implements is forbidden; again gold or some other material is prescribed;[313] once the herb is to be dug with a nail.[314] Sometimes circles are traced[Pg 79] about the plant with the point of a sword.[315] Often the plant must not touch the ground again after it is picked,[316] presumably from a fear that its virtue would run off like an electric current. Pliny alludes at least three times[317] to the practice of herbalists of retaining portions of the herbs they sell, and then, if they are not paid in full, replanting the herb in the same spot with the idea that thereby the disease will return to plague the delinquent patient. Frequently one is directed to state why one plucks the herb or for whom it is intended.[318] In one case the digger says, “This is the herb Argemon which Minerva discovered was a remedy for swine who taste it.”[319] In another case one should salute the plant and extract its juice before saying a word; thus its virtue will be much greater.[320] In other cases, as an offering to appease the earth, the soil about the plant is soaked with hydromel three months before plucking it, or the hole left by pulling it up is filled with different kinds of grain.[321] Sometimes one sacrifices beforehand with bread and wine or prays to the gods for permission to gather the herb.[322] The customs of the Druids in gathering herbs are mentioned more than once.[323] In gathering the sacred mistletoe on the sixth day of the moon they hold sacrifices and a banquet beneath the tree.[324] Two white bulls are the victims; a priest clad in white cuts the mistletoe with a golden sickle and receives it in a white cloak.[325]

The act of picking herbs and digging up roots was often associated with magical practices, as noted in the Natural History. Many plants are said to be picked before sunrise.[302] Pliny mentions twice that the peony should be uprooted at night to avoid the woodpecker of Mars trying to peck the digger's eyes out.[303] The phase of the moon is another important consideration,[304] and there are cases where an herb should be collected before any thunder is heard.[305] A common guideline is to pick the plant with the left hand,[306] and sometimes with the thumb and fourth finger of the left hand.[307] At times, the right hand should quietly reach through the left sleeve like a pickpocket to gather the plant.[308] Occasionally, one faces east while gathering herbs; other times, west; and sometimes it’s important not to face the wind.[309] There are scenarios where the gatherer must not look back. In some cases, fasting is required before taking the plant from the ground;[310] in other cases, maintaining chastity is essential.[311] There are times when one should be barefoot and dressed in white; in other situations, they must remove all clothing and even rings.[312] Sometimes, using iron tools is not allowed; at other times, gold or another material is specified;[313] there are instances where the herb should be dug with a fingernail.[314] Occasionally, circles are drawn around the plant with the tip of a sword.[315] Often, the plant must not touch the ground again after it has been picked,[316] likely due to a belief that its power could dissipate like an electrical charge. Pliny refers at least three times[317] to herbalists retaining parts of the herbs they sell and replanting them if they aren't fully paid, under the assumption that this will cause the illness to return to the negligent patient. Frequently, one is instructed to state the reason for picking the herb or for whom it is meant.[318] In one instance, the digger claims, "This is the herb Argemon, which Minerva discovered was a cure for pigs that eat it.”[319] In another example, one should greet the plant and extract its juice before speaking, as this will enhance its power.[320] In other situations, to honor the earth, the soil around the plant is soaked with honey-water three months before harvesting, or the hole left behind is filled with various grains.[321] Sometimes, there is a sacrifice beforehand with bread and wine, or prayers are offered to the gods for permission to gather the herb.[322] The traditions of the Druids regarding herb gathering are mentioned several times.[323] When collecting sacred mistletoe on the sixth day of the moon, they perform sacrifices and hold a feast beneath the tree.[324] Two white bulls are offered as sacrifices; a priest dressed in white cuts the mistletoe with a golden sickle and receives it in a white cloak.[325]

Agricultural magic.

To Pliny’s discussion of herbs we may append some specimens of the employment of magic procedure in agriculture and of the superstitions of the peasantry in which his pages abound. To guard against diseases of grain the seeds before planting should be steeped in wine, the juice of a certain herb, the gall of a cow, or human urine, or[Pg 80] should be touched with the shoulders of a mole[326]—the animal whose use by the magi we heard Pliny ridicule. One should sow at the moon’s conjunction. Before the field is hoed, a frog should be carried around it and then buried in the center in an earthen vessel. But it should be disinterred before harvest lest the millet be bitter. Birds may be kept away from the grain by planting in the four corners of the field an herb whose name is unfortunately unknown to Pliny.[327] Mice are kept out by the ashes of a weasel, mildew by laurel branches, caterpillars by placing the skull of a female beast of burden upon a stick in the garden.[328] To ward off fogs and storms from orchards and vineyards a frog may be buried as directed above, or live crabs may be burnt in the trees, or a painted grape may be consecrated.[329] Suspending a frog in the granary preserves the corn stored there.[330] To keep wolves away catch one, break its legs, attach it to the ploughshare, and thus scatter its blood about the boundaries of the field; then bury the carcass at the starting-point.[331] Or consecrate at the altar of the Lar the ploughshare with which the first furrow was traced. Foxes will not touch poultry who have eaten the dried liver of a fox or who wear a bit of its skin about their necks. Fern will not spring up again if it is mowed with the edge of a reed or uprooted by a ploughshare upon which a reed has been placed.[332] Of the use of incantations in agriculture we shall treat later.

To Pliny’s discussion of herbs, we can add some examples of how magic is used in farming and the superstitions of the rural folk that fill his writings. To protect against grain diseases, seeds should be soaked in wine, the juice of a specific herb, cow gall, or human urine, or they should be touched by the shoulders of a mole—the same animal that Pliny mocked for its association with the magi. Sowing should be done during the moon's conjunction. Before tilling the field, a frog should be carried around it and then buried in the center in a clay pot. However, it must be dug up before harvest to prevent bitterness in the millet. To keep birds away from the grain, plant an herb—its name unfortunately lost to Pliny—in the four corners of the field. Mice are deterred by weasel ashes, mildew by laurel branches, and caterpillars by placing the skull of a female work animal on a stick in the garden. To protect orchards and vineyards from fogs and storms, a frog can be buried as described earlier, live crabs can be burned in the trees, or a painted grape can be consecrated. Hanging a frog in the granary keeps the stored corn safe. To scare off wolves, you can catch one, break its legs, attach it to the plow, and then smear its blood around the boundaries of the field; afterward, bury the carcass at the starting point. Alternatively, you can consecrate the plow used for the first furrow at the altar of the Lar. Foxes won’t touch poultry that have eaten dried fox liver or have a piece of its skin hanging around their necks. Fern will not grow back if it's cut with the edge of a reed or uprooted by a plow that has a reed on it. We will discuss the use of incantations in agriculture later.

Virtues of stones.

Pliny appears to have much less faith in the possession of marvelous virtues by gems than by herbs and parts of animals. He not only characterizes the powers attributed to gems by the magi and Democritus and Pythagoras as “terrible lies” and “unspeakable nonsense”;[333] but refrains from mentioning many such himself or inserts a cautious “if we believe it” or “if they tell the truth.”[334] Of the gem[Pg 81] supposed to be produced from the urine of the lynx he says, “I think that this is quite false and no gem of that name has been seen in our time. What is stated concerning its medicinal virtue is also false.”[335] To other stones, however, he ascribes various medicinal virtues, either when taken pulverized in drink or when worn as amulets.[336] A few other occult properties are stated without reservation, as that amiantus resists all sorceries,[337] that adamant expels idle fears from the mind, that sideritis produces discord and litigation, and that eumeces, placed beneath one’s pillow at night, causes oracular visions.[338] Magnets are said to differ in sex, and the belief of Theophrastus and Mucianus is repeated that certain stones bear offspring.[339]

Pliny seems to have much less belief in the extraordinary powers of gems compared to herbs and animal parts. He not only labels the abilities attributed to gems by the magi, Democritus, and Pythagoras as “terrible lies” and “ridiculous nonsense”;[333] but he also avoids mentioning many of these himself or adds a cautious “if we believe it” or “if they’re telling the truth.”[334] Regarding the gem said to come from the urine of the lynx, he states, “I think this is completely false, and no gem of that name has been seen in our time. What is claimed about its healing properties is also false.”[335] However, he does attribute various medicinal properties to other stones, either when they are crushed and mixed in drinks or worn as amulets.[336] A few other hidden properties are mentioned without hesitation, like that amiantus can resist all magic,[337] that adamant drives away pointless fears from the mind, that sideritis incites conflict and legal disputes, and that eumeces, placed under one’s pillow at night, brings prophetic dreams.[338] Magnets are said to have different genders, and the belief of Theophrastus and Mucianus is reiterated that certain stones can give birth.[339]

Other minerals and metals.

Of the metals iron sometimes figures in Pliny’s magical procedure, as when he either prescribes or taboos the use of it in cutting herbs or killing animals. In Arcadia the yew-tree is a fatal poison to persons sleeping beneath it, but driving a copper nail into the tree makes it harmless.[340] Pliny says that gold is medicinal in many ways and in particular is applied to wounded persons and to infants as a safeguard against witchcraft.[341] Earth itself is often used to work marvels, but usually some particular portion, such as that between cart ruts or that thrown up by ants, beetles, and moles, or in the right footprint where one first heard a cuckoo sing.[342] However, the rule that an object should not touch the ground is enforced in many other connections[343] than the plucking of herbs, and Pliny twice states that the earth will not permit a serpent who has stung a human being to re-enter its hole.[344] In his discussion of metals Pliny does not allude to transmutation or alchemy, unless it be in his accounts of various fraudulent practices of workers in metal and how Caligula extracted gold from orpiment. But the following directions for preparing antimony show how[Pg 82] closely akin to magic the procedure in ancient metallurgy might be. The antimony should be coated with cow-flap and burnt in furnaces, then quenched in woman’s milk and pounded in mortars with an admixture of rain-water.[345]

Of the metals, iron sometimes appears in Pliny’s magical practices, as he either recommends or forbids its use in cutting herbs or killing animals. In Arcadia, the yew tree is deadly to those sleeping under it, but driving a copper nail into the tree makes it safe. Pliny states that gold has many medicinal properties and is especially used on wounded individuals and infants as a protection against witchcraft. The earth itself is often used to create wonders, but typically a specific part, like soil between cart ruts or that which is moved by ants, beetles, and moles, or in the right footprint where someone first heard a cuckoo sing. However, the rule that an item should not touch the ground applies in many other situations besides the gathering of herbs, and Pliny mentions twice that the earth won’t allow a serpent that has bitten a human to return to its hole. In his discussion on metals, Pliny doesn’t mention transmutation or alchemy, unless it's in his accounts of the various deceitful practices of metalworkers and how Caligula extracted gold from orpiment. But the following methods for preparing antimony reveal how closely related to magic the processes in ancient metallurgy could be. The antimony should be covered in cow dung and burned in furnaces, then cooled in women's milk and ground in mortars with rainwater mixed in.

Virtues of human parts.

Various parts and products of the human body are credited with remarkable virtues as the mention just made of woman’s milk suggests. Other passages recommend more especially the milk of a woman just delivered of a male child, but most of all that of the mother of twins.[346] Sed nihil facile reperiatur mulierum profluvio magis monstrificum, as Pliny proceeds to illustrate by numerous examples.[347] Great virtues are also attributed to the urine, particularly of a chaste boy.[348] A few other instances of remedies drawn from the human body are ear-wax or a powdered tooth against stings of scorpions and bites of snakes,[349] a man’s hair for the bite of a dog, the first hairs from a boy’s head for gout.[350] Diseases of women are prevented by wearing constantly in a bracelet the first tooth a boy loses, provided it has not touched the ground. Simply tying two fingers or toes together is recommended for tumors in the groin, catarrh, and sore eyes.[351] Or the eyes may be touched thrice with water in which the feet have been washed. Scrofula and throat diseases may be cured by the touch of the hand of one who has died an early death, although some authorities do not insist upon the circumstance of early death but direct that the corpse be of the same sex as the patient and that the diseased spot be touched with the back of the left dead hand.

Various parts and products of the human body are credited with impressive benefits, as the reference to a woman's milk implies. Other sections particularly recommend the milk of a woman who has just given birth to a boy, but most notably that of a mother of twins. But nothing is found to be more monstrous than the discharge of women, as Pliny illustrates with numerous examples. Great benefits are also attributed to urine, especially that of a chaste boy. A few other examples of remedies sourced from the human body include earwax or powdered teeth to treat scorpion stings and snake bites, a man’s hair for dog bites, and the first hairs from a boy’s head for gout. Women’s diseases can be avoided by wearing the first tooth a boy loses in a bracelet, as long as it hasn't touched the ground. Simply tying two fingers or toes together is suggested for tumors in the groin, catarrh, and sore eyes. Or you can touch your eyes three times with water that has been used to wash feet. Scrofula and throat illnesses may be healed by the touch of the hand of someone who died young, though some experts say it's not necessary for the person to have died young but that the corpse should match the patient's gender, and the diseased area should be touched with the back of the left dead hand.

Virtues of human saliva.

Of all fluids and excretions of the human body the saliva is perhaps used most often in ancient and medieval medicine, as the custom of spitting once or thrice in administering other remedies or performing ceremonies goes to prove. The spittle of a fasting person is the more efficacious. In a chapter devoted particularly to the properties of human[Pg 83] saliva Pliny lists many diseases and woes which it alleviates.[352] In this connection he makes the following absurd assertion which he nevertheless declares is easily tested by experiment. “If a person repents of a blow given from a distance or hand-to-hand, let him spit into the palm of the hand with which he struck, and the person who has been struck will feel no resentment. This is often proved by beasts of burden who are induced to mend their pace by this method after the use of the whip has failed.” Pliny adds, however, that some persons try to increase the force of their blows by thus spitting on the hands beforehand. He also mentions as counter-charms against sorcery the practices of spitting into one’s urine or right shoe, or when crossing a dangerous spot.

Of all the fluids and excretions in the human body, saliva is probably the most commonly used in ancient and medieval medicine. The practice of spitting once or three times when administering other remedies or performing rituals supports this. The saliva of a fasting person is considered more effective. In a chapter specifically focused on the properties of human saliva, Pliny lists many diseases and issues it can help alleviate. In this context, he makes the following ridiculous claim, which he insists can easily be tested: “If someone regrets hitting another person, whether from a distance or up close, they should spit into the palm of the hand they used to strike. The person who was hit will feel no anger. This is often demonstrated with working animals, who are encouraged to speed up using this method after the whip has failed.” Pliny also notes that some people try to enhance the power of their strikes by spitting on their hands beforehand. He mentions counter-charms against witchcraft, such as spitting into one’s urine or right shoe, or spitting when crossing a risky area.

The human operator.

The importance of the human operator as a factor in the performance of marvels, be they medical or magical, is attested by the frequent injunctions of chastity, virginity, nudity, or a state of fasting upon persons concerned in Pliny’s procedure. Sometimes they are not to glance behind them, sometimes they are to speak to no one during the operation. Pliny also mentions men who have a special capacity for wonder-working, such as Pyrrhus, the touch of whose toe had healing power,[353] those whose eyes exert strong fascination, whole tribes of serpent-charmers and venom-curers, and others whose mere presence addles the eggs beneath a setting hen.[354] The power of words spoken by men will be considered separately under the head of incantations.

The importance of the human operator in achieving remarkable results, whether medical or magical, is highlighted by the frequent requirements for chastity, virginity, nudity, or fasting among those involved in Pliny’s process. Sometimes, they’re instructed not to look behind them, and other times, they’re told not to speak to anyone during the operation. Pliny also mentions men who have a unique ability to perform wonders, such as Pyrrhus, whose toe touch had healing powers, those whose eyes have a strong hypnotic effect, entire groups of snake charmers and poison curers, and others whose mere presence disrupts the eggs under a sitting hen. The power of words spoken by individuals will be discussed separately in the section on incantations.

Absence of medical compounds.

While Pliny attributes the most extreme medicinal virtues to simples, he excludes from his Natural History the strange and elaborate compounds which were nevertheless so popular in the pharmacy of his age. Of one simple, laser, he says that it would be an immense task to attempt to list all the uses that it is supposed to have in compounds.[355] His position is that the simple remedies alone are the direct work of nature, while the mixtures, tablets, pills, plasters,[Pg 84] washes are artificial inventions of the apothecaries. Once when he describes a compound called “Hermesias” which aids in the generation of good and beautiful children, it seems to be borrowed by Democritus from the magi.[356] Furthermore, Pliny thinks that health can be sufficiently preserved or restored by nature’s simple remedies. Compounds are the invention of human conjecture, avarice, and impudence. Such conjecture is often false, not sufficiently taking into account the natural sympathies and antipathies of the numerous ingredients. Often compounds are inexplicable. Pliny also deplores resort to imported drugs from India, Arabia, and the Red Sea, when there are homely remedies at hand for the poorest man.[357]

While Pliny attributes the most extreme medicinal virtues to simple remedies, he excludes from his Natural History the strange and elaborate mixtures that were still popular in the pharmacies of his time. Of one simple remedy, laser, he remarks that it would be an enormous task to try to list all the uses it supposedly has in combinations. [355] His view is that simple remedies are the direct creations of nature, while mixtures, tablets, pills, and washes are artificial inventions of pharmacists. Once, when he describes a compound called “Hermesias” which is said to help produce good and beautiful children, it appears to be taken from the magi by Democritus. [356] Furthermore, Pliny believes that health can be adequately maintained or restored with nature’s simple remedies. Compounds are products of human speculation, greed, and shamelessness. Such speculation is often misguided, failing to adequately consider the natural affinities and aversions of the many ingredients. Often, compounds are beyond explanation. Pliny also laments the reliance on imported drugs from India, Arabia, and the Red Sea when there are simple remedies available for even the poorest person. [357]

Sympathetic magic.

We have just heard Pliny refer to the sympathies and antipathies of natural simples, and he often explains the marvelous effects of natural objects upon one another by this relation of love and hatred, friendship or repugnance, discord or concord which exists between them, which the Greeks call sympathy or antipathy, and which Heracleitus was perhaps the first philosopher to insist upon.[358] Some modern students of magic have tried to account for all magic on this theory, and Pliny states that medicine and medicines originated from it.[359]

We just heard Pliny talk about the attractions and repulsions of natural substances, and he often describes the amazing effects that natural things have on each other through this connection of love and hatred, friendship or aversion, disagreement or harmony that exists between them, which the Greeks refer to as sympathy or antipathy, and which Heraclitus was possibly the first philosopher to emphasize. [358] Some modern scholars of magic have attempted to explain all magic through this theory, and Pliny notes that medicine and remedies came from it. [359]

Antipathies between animals.

This relationship exists between animals,—deer and snakes, for example. So great a force is it that stags track snakes to their holes and extract them thence despite all resistance by the power of their breath. This antipathy continues after death, for the sovereign remedy for snake-bite is the rennet of a fawn killed in its mother’s womb, while serpents flee from a man who wears the tooth of a deer. But antipathy may change to sympathy, for Pliny adds that in some cases certain parts of deer treated in certain ways attract serpents.[360] This force of antipathy is in[Pg 85]deed capable of taking the strangest turn. Bed-bugs, foul and disgusting as they are, heal the bite of snakes, especially asps, and sows can eat the poisonous salamander.[361] The antipathy between goats and snakes would seem almost as potent as that between deer and snakes,[362] since we are told that snake-bitten persons recover more quickly, if they frequent the stalls where goats are kept or wear as an amulet the paunch of a she-goat.

This relationship exists between animals—like deer and snakes. It's such a strong force that stags track down snakes to their hiding spots and pull them out, regardless of the snakes' resistance, using the power of their breath. This dislike continues even after death, since the best remedy for a snake bite is the rennet from a fawn that was killed while still in its mother’s womb, while snakes avoid a person wearing a deer’s tooth. However, dislike can turn into liking, as Pliny mentions that in some cases, certain parts of deer, when treated in specific ways, can attract snakes. This force of dislike can indeed take the strangest twists. Bed-bugs, as disgusting as they are, can heal snake bites, especially from asps, and sows are able to eat the poisonous salamander. The dislike between goats and snakes seems almost as strong as that between deer and snakes, since it's said that people bitten by snakes recover faster if they spend time in goat stalls or wear the stomach of a she-goat as an amulet.

Love and hatred between inanimate objects.

There is also “the hatred and friendship of deaf and insensible things.”[363] Instances are the magnet’s attraction for iron and the fact that adamant can be broken only by the blood of a he-goat, two stock examples of occult influence and natural marvels which continued classic in the medieval period.[364] Pliny indeed regards this last as the clearest illustration possible of the potency of sympathy and antipathy, since a substance which defies iron and fire, nature’s two most violent agents, yields to the blood of a foul animal.[365]

There is also “the hatred and friendship of deaf and senseless things.”[363] For example, the magnet attracts iron, and adamant can only be broken by the blood of a male goat—two classic examples of hidden influences and natural wonders that remained significant during the medieval period.[364] Pliny considers this last example to be the clearest demonstration of the power of sympathy and antipathy, since a substance that resists iron and fire, the two most destructive forces in nature, can be overcome by the blood of an unclean animal.[365]

Sympathy between animate and inanimate objects.

There is furthermore sympathy and antipathy between animate and inanimate objects. So marvelous is the antipathy of the tamarisk tree for the spleen alone of internal organs, that pigs who drink from troughs of this wood are found when slaughtered to be without spleen, and hence splenetic patients are fed from vessels of tamarisk.[366] The spleenless pig, it may be interpolated, is another commonplace of ancient and medieval science. Smearing the hives with cow dung kills other insects but stimulates the bees who have an affinity for it (cognatum hoc iis),[367] probably, although Pliny does not say so, on the theory that they are[Pg 86] spontaneously generated from it. That the wild cabbage is hostile to dogs is evidenced by the statement of Epicharmus that it cures the bite of a mad dog but kills a dog if he eats it when given to him with meat.[368] Snakes hate the ash-tree so, that if they are hemmed in by its foliage on one side and fire on the other, they flee by preference into the flames.[369] Betony, too, is so antipathetic to snakes that they lash themselves to death when a circle of it is drawn about them.[370] Scorpions cannot survive in the air of Sicily.[371] Perhaps antipathy is also the explanation of Pliny’s absurd statement that loads of apples and pears, even if there are only a few of them, are very heavy for beasts of burden.[372] Here, however, the condition may be remedied and perhaps a relationship of sympathy established by showing the beasts how few fruit there really are or by giving them some to eat. That sympathy may even attach to places or religious circumstances Pliny infers from the belief that the priestess of the earth at Aegira, when about to descend into the cave and predict, drinks without injury bull’s blood which is supposed to be a fatal poison.[373]

There is also both attraction and aversion between living and non-living things. The dislike of the tamarisk tree for the spleen, alone among internal organs, is so remarkable that pigs that drink from troughs made of this wood are found to be without a spleen when slaughtered; as a result, patients with spleen issues are fed from vessels made of tamarisk.[366] It may be worth noting that a spleenless pig is a well-known concept in ancient and medieval science. Smearing hives with cow dung kills off other insects but stimulates bees, who have a preference for it (cognatum hoc iis),[367] likely on the idea that they might be spontaneously generated from it, although Pliny doesn't specify. The hostility of wild cabbage towards dogs is shown by the claim of Epicharmus that it can cure a mad dog’s bite but is fatal to a dog if it's eaten with meat.[368] Snakes are so averse to the ash tree that if they're trapped by its branches on one side and fire on the other, they prefer to escape into the flames.[369] Similarly, betony is so disliked by snakes that they will injure themselves to escape when a circle of it is drawn around them.[370] Scorpions cannot survive in the air of Sicily.[371] Perhaps this aversion explains Pliny’s strange claim that loads of apples and pears, even if they’re only a few, are really heavy for pack animals.[372] However, this situation might be resolved, and a bond of attraction could be formed, by showing the animals how few fruits there actually are or by giving them some to eat. Pliny suggests that even places or religious contexts might have their own connections of attraction, based on the belief that the priestess of the earth at Aegira can safely drink bull's blood—which is thought to be a deadly poison—before descending into the cave to make predictions.[373]

Like cures like.

That like cures like, or more precisely and paradoxically that the cause of the disease will cure its own result, is another notion which Pliny’s medicine shares with magic. This is seen in the use of parts of the mad dog to cure its bite,[374] or in rubbing thighs chafed by horse-back riding with the foam from a horse’s mouth.[375] The bite of the shrew-mouse, too, is best healed by imposition of the very animal which bit you, but another shrew-mouse will do and they are kept ready in oil and mud for this purpose.[376] The sting of the phalangium may be cured by merely looking at another insect of that species, whether it be dead or alive.

That like cures like, or more accurately and paradoxically, that the cause of the disease can cure its own effect, is another idea that Pliny’s medicine has in common with magic. This is evident in using parts of a mad dog to treat its bite, [374] or in rubbing thighs sore from horseback riding with foam from a horse’s mouth. [375] The bite of a shrew-mouse is best treated by applying the very animal that bit you, but another shrew-mouse will work too, and they are kept ready in oil and mud for this purpose. [376] The sting of the phalangium can be cured simply by looking at another insect of that species, whether it’s dead or alive.

From cases in which the cure for the disease is identical with its cause it is but a short step to remedies similar to[Pg 87] or in some way associated with the ailment. It seems obvious to Pliny that stone in the bladder can be broken by the herb on which grow what look exactly like pearls. “In the case of no other herb is it so evident for what medicine it is intended; its species is such that it can be recognized at once by sight without book knowledge.”[377] Similarly ophites, a marble with serpentine streaks, is used as an amulet against snake-bite.[378] Mithridates discovered that the blood of Pontic ducks should be mixed in antidotes because they live on poison.[379] Heliotrope seed looks like a scorpion’s tail; if scorpions are touched with a sprig of heliotrope they die, and they will not enter ground which has been circumscribed by it.[380] To accelerate a woman’s delivery her lover should take off his belt and gird her with it, then untie it, saying that he has bound her and will unloose her, and then he should go away.[381] An epileptic may be cured by driving an iron nail into the spot where his head rested when he fell in the fit.[382]

From cases where the cure for the disease is the same as its cause, it's a small step to remedies that are similar to or somehow linked with the ailment. Pliny clearly believes that a stone in the bladder can be shattered using the herb that has what look like pearls growing on it. “No other herb is as clearly identifiable for its medicinal purpose; its appearance is such that it can be recognized at a glance without needing a reference book.”[377] Similarly, ophites, a marble with snake-like stripes, is used as a charm against snake bites.[378] Mithridates found that the blood of Pontic ducks should be mixed into antidotes because they feed on poison.[379] Heliotrope seeds resemble a scorpion's tail; if scorpions come into contact with a sprig of heliotrope, they die, and they won’t cross areas marked by it.[380] To help a woman give birth faster, her partner should remove his belt and wrap it around her, then untie it, saying he has bound her and will release her, and then he should leave.[381] An epileptic might be cured by driving an iron nail into the spot where his head rested during a seizure.[382]

The principle of association.

Other instances of association are when the remedy employed is some part of an animal who is free from the disease in question or marked by an opposite state of health. Goats and gazelles never have ophthalmia, hence various portions of their bodies are prescribed for eye diseases.[383] Eagles can gaze at the sun, therefore their gall is efficacious in eye-salves.[384] The bird called ossifrage has a single intestine which digests anything; the end of this intestine serves as an amulet against colic, and indigestion may be cured by merely holding the crop of the bird in one hand.[385] But do not hold it too long or your flesh will waste away. The virus of mares is an ingredient in a candle which makes heads of horses seem to appear when it burns;[386] while ink of the sepia is used in a candle which causes Ethiopians to be seen when it is lighted.[387] These magic candles are borrowed[Pg 88] by Pliny from the works of Anaxilaus, and we shall find them a feature of medieval collections of experiments. Earth from a cart-wheel rut is thought a remedy against the bite of the shrew-mouse because that creature is too torpid to cross such a rut;[388] and Pliny believes that none of the virtues attributed to moles by the magicians is more probable than that they are an antidote to the bite of the shrew-mouse, which shuns even ruts, whereas moles burrow freely through the soil.[389] Pliny finds incredible the assertion made by some that a ship will move more slowly if it has the right foot of a tortoise aboard,[390] but the logic of the magic seems evident enough.

Other examples of association occur when the remedy used comes from an animal that doesn’t have the disease in question or has an opposing state of health. Goats and gazelles never get ophthalmia, so various parts of their bodies are recommended for eye problems.[383] Eagles can look at the sun, which is why their gall is effective in eye salves.[384] The bird called ossifrage has a single intestine that digests anything; the end of this intestine is used as an amulet against colic, and simply holding the bird's crop in one hand can cure indigestion.[385] But don’t hold it too long or your flesh will waste away. The virus from mares is included in a candle that makes horse heads appear when it burns;[386] while ink from the sepia is used in a candle that shows Ethiopians when lit.[387] These magical candles are borrowed[Pg 88] by Pliny from the works of Anaxilaus, and we will see them appear in medieval collections of experiments. Earth from a cart-wheel rut is believed to remedy the bite of the shrew-mouse because that creature is too sluggish to cross such a rut;[388] and Pliny thinks that none of the virtues attributed to moles by magicians is more plausible than that they are an antidote to the bite of the shrew-mouse, which avoids ruts, while moles dig freely through the soil.[389] Pliny finds it hard to believe the claim made by some that a ship will move more slowly if it has the right foot of a tortoise onboard,[390] but the logic of the magic seems clear enough.

Magic transfer of disease.

In Pliny’s medicine there are a number of examples of what may be called magic transfer, in which the aim of the procedure is not to cure the disease outright but to rid the patient of it by transferring it from him to some other animal or object. Intestinal disease may be transferred to puppies who have not yet opened their eyes by pressing them to the body and giving them milk from the patient’s mouth. They will die of the disease, when its cause and exact nature may be determined by dissecting them. But finally they must be buried.[391] Griping pains in the bowels will also pass to a duck that is held against the abdomen. One may be rid of a cough by spitting in a frog’s mouth or cure catarrh by kissing a mule,[392] although in these cases we are left uninformed whether the disease passes to the animal. But if a person who has been stung by a scorpion whispers the news in the ear of an ass, the ill will be transferred to the ass.[393] A boil may be removed by rubbing nine grains of barley around it, each grain thrice with the left hand, and then throwing them all into the fire.[394] Warts are banished by touching each with a grain of the chickpea and then tying the grains up in a linen cloth and throwing them behind one.[395] If a root of asphodel is applied to sores and then hung[Pg 89] up in smoke, the sores will dry up along with the root.[396] To cure scrofulous sores some bind on as many earthworms as there are sores and let them dry up together.[397] A tooth will cease aching if the herb erigeron is dug up with iron and the patient thrice alternately touches the tooth with the root and spits, and if he then replaces the herb in the same spot and it lives.[398] If this last is a case of magic transfer, perhaps we may trace the same notion in some of the numerous instances in which Pliny directs that an animal shall be released alive after some part of it has been removed or some other medicinal use made of it.

In Pliny's medicine, there are several examples of what could be called magic transfer, where the goal isn't to cure the disease directly but to get rid of it by transferring it to another animal or object. Intestinal disease can be passed to puppies that haven’t opened their eyes yet by pressing them against the patient’s body and feeding them milk from the patient’s mouth. These puppies will die from the disease, allowing for examination to identify its cause and nature. However, they must eventually be buried. Griping pains in the bowels can also be transferred to a duck that is held against the abdomen. You might get rid of a cough by spitting in a frog’s mouth or cure catarrh by kissing a mule, though it’s unclear whether the disease actually transfers to the animal. However, if someone who has been stung by a scorpion whispers the news to a donkey, the suffering is transferred to the donkey. A boil can be removed by rubbing nine grains of barley around it, using the left hand three times for each grain, and then throwing all of them into the fire. Warts can be eliminated by touching each one with a chickpea and then tying the grains in a linen cloth and throwing them behind you. If a root of asphodel is applied to sores and then hung up in smoke, the sores will dry up along with the root. To treat scrofulous sores, some bind as many earthworms as there are sores and let them dry up together. A toothache will stop if the herb erigeron is dug up with iron and the patient alternately touches the tooth with the root three times while spitting, and then replaces the herb in the same spot and it survives. If this is indeed a case of magic transfer, we might see the same idea in some of the many instances where Pliny suggests that an animal be set free alive after having part of it removed or used for another medicinal purpose.

Amulets.

A common characteristic of magic force and occult virtue is that it will often act at a distance or without any physical contact or direct application. This is manifested in the practice of carrying or wearing amulets, or, what is the same thing, of ligatures and suspensions, in which objects are hung from the neck or bound to some part of the body in order to ward off danger from without or cure internal disease. Instances of such practices in the Natural History are well nigh innumerable. Roots are suspended from the neck by a thread;[399] the tongue of a fox is worn in a bracelet;[400] for quinsy the throat is wound thrice with a thong of dog-skin and catarrh is relieved by winding the same about the fingers.[401] A tooth stops aching when worms are taken from a certain prickly plant, put with some bread in a pill-box, and bound to the arm on the same side of the body as the aching tooth.[402] Two bed-bugs bound to the left arm in wool stolen from shepherds are a charm against nocturnal fevers; against diurnal fevers, if wrapped in russet cloth instead.[403] The heart of a vulture is an amulet against snakes, wild beasts, robbers, and royal wrath.[404] The traveler who carries the herb artemisia feels no fatigue.[405] Injurious drugs cannot cross one’s threshold and do injury in[Pg 90] one’s household, if a sea-star is smeared with the blood of a fox and attached to the lintel or door-post with a copper nail.[406] Not only is a wreath of herbs worn for headache,[407] but a sprig of poplar held in the hand prevents chafing between the thighs.[408] Often objects are placed under one’s pillow, especially for insomnia,[409] but any psychological effect is precluded in the case where this is to be done without the patient’s knowledge.[410] All sorts of specifications are given as to the color and kind of string, cloth, skin, box, nail, ring, bracelet, and the like in which should be placed, or with which should be bound on, the various gems, herbs, and parts of animals which serve as amulets. But when we are told that a remedy for headache which always helps many consists of a little bone from a snail found between two cart ruts, passed through gold, silver, and ivory, and attached to the body with dog-skin; or that one may bind on the head with a linen cloth the head of a snail decapitated with a reed when feeding in the morning especially at full moon;[411] we feel that we have passed beyond mere amulets, ligatures, and suspensions to more elaborate minutiae of magic procedure.

A common feature of magical force and occult power is that it often works at a distance or without any physical contact or direct application. This is seen in the practice of carrying or wearing amulets, or, in other words, ligatures and suspensions, where objects are hung around the neck or attached to some part of the body to repel outside dangers or heal internal ailments. There are countless examples of such practices in the Natural History. Roots are suspended from the neck by a thread;[399] the tongue of a fox is worn as a bracelet;[400] for quinsy, the throat is wrapped three times with a thong made from dog skin, and catarrh is treated by wrapping the same around the fingers.[401] A toothache stops when worms from a certain prickly plant are placed with some bread in a pillbox and bound to the arm on the same side as the aching tooth.[402] Two bedbugs tied to the left arm with wool stolen from shepherds act as a charm against nighttime fevers; for daytime fevers, they should be wrapped in russet cloth instead.[403] The heart of a vulture is an amulet against snakes, wild animals, robbers, and royal anger.[404] A traveler carrying the herb artemisia feels no fatigue.[405] Harmful drugs can't enter a home and cause damage if a sea star is smeared with a fox's blood and attached to the door frame with a copper nail.[406] Not only is a wreath of herbs worn for headaches,[407] but holding a poplar sprig in the hand prevents chafing between the thighs.[408] Objects are often placed under one's pillow, especially for insomnia,[409] but any psychological effect is negated if this is done without the person's knowledge.[410] Various specifications are given regarding the color and type of string, cloth, skin, box, nail, ring, bracelet, and so on, to be used with or for binding the different gems, herbs, and animal parts that serve as amulets. However, when it's mentioned that a remedy for headaches that always works for many consists of a small bone from a snail found between two cart ruts, passed through gold, silver, and ivory, and attached to the body with dog skin; or that one can wrap the decapitated head of a snail in a linen cloth and place it on the head when it is fed in the morning, especially during the full moon;[411] it becomes clear that we have moved beyond simple amulets, ligatures, and suspensions to more detailed aspects of magical practices.

Position or direction.

Position or direction is often an important matter in Pliny’s, as in magic, ceremonial. It perhaps comes out most frequently in his specification of right or left. An aching tooth should be scarified with the left eye-tooth of a dog; a spider which is placed with oil in the ear should be caught with the left hand;[412] epilepsy may be cured if a virgin touches the sufferer with her right thumb;[413] for ophthalmia of the right eye suspend the right eye of a frog from the patient’s neck, and the left eye for the left eye;[414] for lumbago tear off an eagle’s feet away from the joint, and use the right foot for the right side and the left for pain in the left side.[415] But we have met other examples already, and[Pg 91] also cases of the use of the upper or lower part of this or that according to the corresponding location of an aching tooth in the upper or lower jaw.[416] Tracing circles with and about objects, facing towards this or that point of the compass, the prohibition against glancing behind one, and the stress laid upon finding things or killing animals between the ruts of cart wheels, are other examples of taking into consideration position and direction which we have already met with incidentally to the treatment of other topics. The prescription of a plant which has grown on the head of a statue and of another which has taken root in a sieve thrown into a hedge[417] also seem to take mere position largely into account, more so than the accompanying recommendation of an herb growing on the banks of a stream and of another growing upon a dunghill.[418]

Position or direction is often crucial in Pliny’s works, much like in magic and ceremonial practices. It’s most clearly seen in his emphasis on right or left. For example, if you have a toothache, you should use the left canine tooth of a dog; a spider that is placed in the ear with oil should be caught with your left hand;[412] epilepsy might be cured if a virgin touches the sufferer with her right thumb;[413] for issues with the right eye, hang the right eye of a frog around the patient’s neck, and for the left eye, do the same with the left eye;[414] for lumbago, pull off an eagle’s feet away from the joint, using the right foot for pain on the right side and the left foot for pain on the left side.[415] We’ve encountered other examples as well, including cases where the upper or lower part of something is used according to whether the aching tooth is in the upper or lower jaw.[416] Drawing circles around objects, facing different points on the compass, the rule against looking back, and the importance of finding things or killing animals in the wheel ruts of carts are additional examples of how position and direction matter, which we’ve come across while discussing other topics. The use of a plant that has grown on the head of a statue and another that has rooted in a sieve tossed into a hedge[417] also seems heavily reliant on position, more so than the recommendation of herbs that grow by the banks of a stream or on a dunghill.[418]

The time element.

The element of time is also important. Operations should be performed before sunrise, early in the morning, at night, and so on. The moon is especially regarded in such directions.[419] When we are informed that sufferers from quartan fever should be rubbed all over with the fat of a tortoise, we are also told that the tortoise will be fattest on the fifteenth day of the moon and that the patient should be anointed on the sixteenth.[420] But this waxing and waning of the tortoise with the moon is primarily a matter of astrology and planetary influence, under which heading we shall also later speak of Pliny’s observance of the rising of the dog-star.

The element of time is also important. Operations should be done before sunrise, early in the morning, at night, and so on. The moon is especially considered in these matters. [419] When we learn that people suffering from quartan fever should be rubbed all over with tortoise fat, we also find out that the tortoise will be fattest on the fifteenth day of the moon and that the patient should be anointed on the sixteenth. [420] But this waxing and waning of the tortoise with the moon is mainly a matter of astrology and planetary influence, which we will also discuss later when we talk about Pliny’s observation of the rising of the dog star.

Observance of number.

Observance of number is another feature in Pliny’s ceremonial, of which we have already met instances. He also alludes to the writings of Pythagoras on the subject and ascribes to Democritus a work on the number four. Pliny’s recipes frequently recommend that the operation be thrice repeated. In the case of curing scrofula by the ashes of vipers he prescribes three fingers thereof taken in drink for[Pg 92] thrice seven days.[421] In another application of a Gallic herb with old axle-grease which has not touched iron, not only must the patient spit thrice to the right, but the remedy is more efficacious if three men representing three different nations anoint the right side with it.[422] The virtue of the number one is not, however, entirely slighted. Importance is attached to the death of a stag from a single wound.[423] Sometimes three and one are joined in the same operation, as when child-birth is aided by hurling through the house a stone or weapon by which three animals, a man, a boar, and a bear, have been killed with single blows. One of the discoveries of Pythagoras which seldom fails is that an odd number of vowels in a child’s given name portends lameness, blindness, and like incapacitation on the right side of its body, and an even number, injuries on the left side.[424] In a crown of smilax for headache there should be an odd number of leaves,[425] and in a diet of snails prescribed for stomach trouble an odd number are to be eaten.[426] For a head-wash ten green lizards are boiled in ten sextarii of oil,[427] and for an application to prevent eyelashes from growing again when they have been pulled out fifteen frogs are impaled on fifteen bulrushes.[428] The person who has tied on a certain amulet is thereafter excluded from the patient’s sight for five days.[429] And so on.

Observing numbers is another aspect of Pliny’s rituals, and we’ve seen examples of this before. He also references Pythagoras’s writings on the subject and credits Democritus with a work about the number four. In Pliny’s recipes, it’s often recommended that the process be repeated three times. For curing scrofula with viper ashes, he suggests taking three fingers' worth in a drink for[Pg 92] three times seven days.[421] In another case involving a Gallic herb mixed with old axle grease that hasn’t touched iron, the patient must spit to the right three times, and the treatment is more effective if three men from three different nations apply it to the right side.[422] The number one is not entirely overlooked, as the death of a stag from a single wound is considered significant.[423] Sometimes, three and one are combined in the same procedure, as when assisting childbirth by throwing a stone or weapon through the house, which has been used to kill three animals: a man, a boar, and a bear, each with a single blow. One of Pythagoras’s findings that often holds true is that having an odd number of vowels in a child’s name signals potential lameness or blindness on the right side of the body, while an even number indicates injuries on the left side.[424] For a crown of smilax to alleviate headaches, there should be an odd number of leaves,[425] and in a diet of snails prescribed for stomach issues, an odd number should be consumed.[426] For a head rinse, ten green lizards are boiled in ten sextarii of oil,[427] and for stopping eyelashes from regrowing after being pulled out, fifteen frogs are impaled on fifteen bulrushes.[428] The person who has tied on a specific amulet must then stay out of the patient’s sight for five days.[429] And so on.

Relation between operator and patient.

This last item suggests a further intangible factor in Pliny’s procedure, the doing of things to or for the patient without his knowledge. But this and any other incorporeal relationships existing between operator and patient should perhaps be classed under the head of sympathy and antipathy.

This last point hints at another intangible aspect of Pliny’s approach—the act of doing things to or for the patient without their awareness. However, this and other non-physical connections between the practitioner and the patient might need to be categorized under the concepts of sympathy and antipathy.

Incantations.

Closely akin to the power of numbers is that of words. Pliny once says of an incantation employed to avert hail-storms that he would not dare in seriousness to insert its[Pg 93] words, although Cato in his work on agriculture prescribed a similar formula of meaningless words for the cure of fractured limbs.[430] But Pliny does not object to the repetition of incantations or prayers if the words spoken have some meaning. He informs us that ocimum is sown with curses and maledictions and that when cummin seed is rammed down into the soil, the sowers pray it not to come up.[431] In another case the sower is to be naked and to pray for himself and his neighbors.[432] In a third case in which a poultice is to be applied to an inflammatory tumor, Pliny says that persons of experience regard it as very important that the poultice be put on by a naked virgin and that both she and the patient be fasting. Touching the sufferer with the back of her hand she is to say, “Apollo forbids a disease to increase which a naked virgin restrains.” Then, withdrawing her hand, she is to repeat the same words thrice and to join with the patient in spitting on the ground each time.[433] Indeed, in another passage Pliny states that it is the universal custom in medicine to spit three times with incantations.[434] Perhaps the power of the words is thought to be increased or renewed by clearing the throat. Words were also occasionally spoken in plucking herbs. Ring-worm or tetter is treated by spitting upon and rubbing together two stones covered with a dry white moss, and by repeating a Greek incantation which may be translated, “Flee, Cantharides, a wild wolf seeks your blood.”[435] Abscesses and inflammations are treated with the herb reseda and a Latin translation which seems irrelevant, if not quite senseless, and which may be translated, “Reseda, make disease recede. Don’t you know, don’t you know what chick has dug up these roots? May they have neither head nor feet.”[436] In the book following this passage Pliny raises the general question of the power of words to heal diseases.[437] He gives many instances of belief in incantations from contemporary popu[Pg 94]lar superstition, from Roman religion, and from the annals of history. He does not doubt that Romans in the past have believed in the power of words, and thinks that if we accept set forms of prayer and religious formulae, we must also admit the force of incantations. But he adds that the wisest individuals believe in neither.

Closely related to the power of numbers is the power of words. Pliny once mentioned an incantation used to prevent hailstorms, saying he wouldn’t seriously include its words, even though Cato, in his agricultural work, recommended a similar set of meaningless words for healing broken limbs.[Pg 93] However, Pliny doesn’t object to repeating incantations or prayers if the words have actual meaning. He tells us that ocimum is sown with curses and that when the cummin seed is pressed into the soil, the planters pray for it not to sprout.[Pg 93] In one case, the sower is to be naked and pray for himself and his neighbors.[Pg 93] In another instance, when applying a poultice to an inflamed tumor, Pliny notes that experienced individuals consider it crucial for the poultice to be applied by a naked virgin, with both her and the patient fasting. Touching the patient with the back of her hand, she is to say, “Apollo forbids a disease to increase which a naked virgin restrains.” Then, withdrawing her hand, she is to repeat those same words three times and spit on the ground each time along with the patient.[Pg 93] Indeed, elsewhere, Pliny states that it’s common practice in medicine to spit three times while reciting incantations.[Pg 94] Perhaps the power of words is thought to be heightened or refreshed by clearing the throat. Words were also sometimes spoken while picking herbs. Ringworm or skin ailments are treated by spitting on and rubbing together two stones covered with dry white moss, while reciting a Greek incantation that translates to, “Flee, Cantharides, a wild wolf seeks your blood.”[Pg 94] Abscesses and inflammations are treated with the herb reseda and a Latin phrase that seems irrelevant, if not completely nonsensical. This can be translated to, “Reseda, make the disease recede. Don’t you know, don’t you know what chick has dug up these roots? May they have neither head nor feet.”[Pg 94] In the book that follows this section, Pliny raises the broader question of the power of words in healing diseases.[Pg 94] He provides numerous examples of belief in incantations drawn from contemporary popular superstitions, Roman religion, and historical records. He does not doubt that the Romans of the past believed in the power of words and asserts that if we accept fixed forms of prayer and religious formulas, we must also acknowledge the efficacy of incantations. But he adds that the wisest individuals believe in neither.

Attitude to love-charms and birth-control.

Pliny’s recipes and operations are mainly connected with either medicine or agriculture, but he also introduces as we have seen magical procedure employed in child-birth, safeguards against poisons and reptiles, and counter-charms against sorcery. He more than once avers that love-charms (amatoria) lie outside his province,[438] in one passage alleging as a reason that the illustrious general Lucullus was killed by one,[439] but he includes a great many of them nevertheless.[440] Some herbs are so employed because of a resemblance in shape to the sexual organs,[441] another instance of association by similarity. Pliny declared against abortive drugs as well as love-charms,[442] but cited from the Commentaries of Caecilius one recipe for birth-control for the benefit of over-fecund women, consisting of a ligature of two little worms found in the body of a certain species of spider and bound on in deer-skin before sunrise. After a year the virtue of this charm expires.[443]

Pliny’s recipes and practices are mostly related to medicine or farming, but he also introduces, as we’ve seen, magical methods used during childbirth, protections against poisons and snakes, and counter-spells against witchcraft. He repeatedly states that love charms (amatoria) are outside his area of expertise,[438] citing one instance where he claims that the famous general Lucullus was killed by one,[439] yet he includes many of them regardless.[440] Some herbs are used because they resemble sexual organs,[441] which is another example of association by similarity. Pliny spoke out against abortive drugs and love charms,[442] but mentioned a recipe from Caecilius’s Commentaries for birth control, aimed at women who have too many children. It involves tying two tiny worms found in a specific type of spider's body using deer skin before sunrise. After a year, the effectiveness of this charm wears off.[443]

Pliny and astrology.

Pliny devotes but a small fraction of his work to the stars and heavens as against terrestrial phenomena, and therefore has less occasion to speak of astrology than of magic. However, had he been a great believer in astrology he doubtless would have devoted more space to the stars and their influence on terrestrial phenomena. He recognizes none the less, as we have seen, that magic and astrology are in[Pg 95]timately related and that “there is no one who is not eager to learn his own future and who does not think that this is shown most truly by the heavens.”[444] Parenthetically it may be remarked that the general literature of the time only confirms this assertion of the widespread prevalence of astrology; allusions of poets imply a technical knowledge of the art on their readers’ part; the very emperors who occasionally banished astrologers from Rome themselves consulted other adepts. In another passage Pliny speaks of men who “assign events each to its star according to the rules of nativities and believe that God decreed the future once for all and has never interfered with the course of events since.”[445] This way of thinking has caught learned and vulgar alike in its current and has led to such further methods of divination as those by lightning, oracles, haruspices, and even such petty auguries as from sneezes and shifting of the feet. Furthermore in Pliny’s list of men prominent in the various arts and sciences we find Berosus of whom a statue was erected by the Athenians in honor of his skill in astrological prognostication.[446] In another place where he speaks for a moment of “the science of the stars” Pliny disputes the theories of Berosus, Nechepso, and Petosiris that length of human life is ordered by the stars, and also makes the trite objection to the doctrine of nativities that masters and slaves, kings and beggars are born at the same moment.[447] He also is rather inclined to ridicule the enormous figures of 720,000 or 490,000 years set by Epigenes and Berosus and Critodemus for the duration of astronomical observations recorded by the Babylonians.[448] From such passages we get the impression that astrology is widely accepted as a science but that the art of nativities at least is not regarded by Pliny[Pg 96] with favor. But it would not be safe to say that he denies the control of the stars over human destiny. Indeed, in one chapter he declares that the astronomer Hipparchus can never be praised enough because more than any other man he proved the relationship of man with the stars and that our souls are part of the sky.[449] When Pliny disputes the vulgar notion that each man has a star varying in brightness according to his fortune, rising when he is born, and fading or falling when he dies, he is not attacking even the doctrine of nativities; he is denying that the stars are controlled by man’s fate rather than that man’s life is ordered by the stars.[450]

Pliny dedicates only a small part of his work to the stars and the heavens compared to earthly phenomena, so he has less reason to discuss astrology than magic. However, if he were a strong believer in astrology, he likely would have spent more time talking about the stars and their impact on earthly events. Still, as we have seen, he acknowledges that magic and astrology are closely connected and that “there is no one who is not eager to learn his own future and who does not think this is most truly revealed by the heavens.”[Pg 95] It's worth noting that the general literature of the time only supports this idea of the widespread popularity of astrology; references from poets suggest they expected their readers to have a technical understanding of the subject. Even emperors who sometimes exiled astrologers from Rome sought counsel from other experts. In another passage, Pliny talks about people who “assign events to their stars according to the rules of nativities and believe that God predetermined the future once and has never interfered with events since.”[Pg 96] This way of thinking has captivated both scholars and common people and has led to other methods of divination such as those involving lightning, oracles, haruspices, and even minor superstitions like sneezing or the movement of feet. Additionally, in Pliny’s list of notable figures in various arts and sciences, we find Berosus, who was honored with a statue by the Athenians for his expertise in astrological predictions. In another section where he briefly mentions “the science of the stars,” Pliny disputes the beliefs of Berosus, Nechepso, and Petosiris that the length of a person’s life is determined by the stars, and he also points out the familiar objection to the doctrine of nativities, which is that masters and slaves, kings and beggars can all be born at the same time. He also tends to mock the absurdly long timelines of 720,000 or 490,000 years suggested by Epigenes, Berosus, and Critodemus for the duration of astronomical records kept by the Babylonians. From these passages, it seems that astrology is generally embraced as a science, but Pliny does not seem to view the practice of nativities favorably. However, it wouldn’t be accurate to claim that he denies the influence of the stars on human fate. In fact, in one chapter, he argues that the astronomer Hipparchus deserves endless praise because more than anyone else he demonstrated the connection between humans and the stars, suggesting that our souls are a part of the sky. When Pliny challenges the common belief that everyone has a star that shines brilliantly based on their fortune, which rises at birth and dims or falls at death, he is not rejecting the doctrine of nativities; he is arguing that the stars do not bend to human fate, but rather that human life is influenced by the stars.

Celestial portents.

If Pliny thus leaves us uncertain as to the relation of man to the stars, we also receive conflicting impressions from his discussion of various celestial phenomena regarded as portentous. In one passage he speaks of the debt of gratitude owed by mankind to those great astronomical geniuses who have freed men from their former superstitious fear of eclipses.[451] But he explains thunderbolts as celestial fire vomited forth from the planet Venus and “bearing omens of the future.”[452] He also gives instances from Roman history of comets which signaled disaster, and he expounds the theory of their signifying the future.[453] What they portend may be determined from the direction in which they move and the heavenly body whose power they receive, and more particularly from the shapes they assume and their position in relation to the signs of the zodiac. Indeed, Pliny even gives examples of ominous eclipses of the sun, although it is true that they were also of unusual length.[454] He also tells us that many of the common people still believed that women could produce eclipses “by sorceries and herbs.”[455]

If Pliny leaves us unsure about the relationship between humans and the stars, we also get mixed signals from his discussion of different celestial events seen as omens. In one instance, he talks about the gratitude owed by humanity to those great astronomers who have liberated people from their previous superstitious fears of eclipses.[451] However, he describes thunderbolts as celestial fire ejected from the planet Venus and “carrying omens of the future.”[452] He also provides examples from Roman history of comets that predicted disasters, and he elaborates on the theory of their significance regarding the future.[453] What they signal can be understood from the direction they travel, the celestial body from which they draw energy, and especially from the shapes they take on and their position in relation to the zodiac signs. In fact, Pliny even cites examples of ominous solar eclipses, though it's true they were also unusually long.[454] He also mentions that many ordinary people still believed that women could create eclipses “through sorcery and herbs.”[455]

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The stars and the world of nature.

Aside from the question of the control of human destiny by the constellations at birth, Pliny’s general theories of the universe and of the influence of the stars upon terrestrial nature are roughly similar to those of astrology. For him the universe itself is God, “holy, eternal, vast, all in all, nay, in truth itself all;”[456] and the sun is the mind and soul of the whole world and the chief governor of nature.[457] The planets affect one another. A cold star renders another approaching it pale; a hot star causes its neighbor to redden; a windy planet gives those near it a lowering appearance.[458] At certain points in their orbits the planets are deflected from their regular course by the rays of the sun,—an unwitting concession to heliocentric theory.[459] Pliny ascribes the usual astrological qualities to the planets.[460] Saturn is cold and rigid; Mars, a flaming fire; Jupiter, located between them, is temperate and salubrious. Besides their effects upon one another, the planets especially influence the earth.[461] Venus, for instance, rules the process of generation in all terrestrial beings.[462] Following the Georgics of Vergil somewhat, Pliny asserts that the stars give indubitable signs of the weather and expounds the utility of the constellations to farmers.[463] He tells how Democritus by his knowledge of astronomy was able to corner the olive crop and put to shame business men who had been decrying philosophy;[464] and how on another occasion he gave his brother timely warning of an impending storm.[465] But Pliny does not accept all the theories of the astrologers as to control of the stars over terrestrial nature. He repeats, but without definitely accepting it, the ascription by the Babylonians of earthquakes to three of the planets in particular,[466] and the notion that the gem sandastros or garamantica, em[Pg 98]ployed by Chaldeans in their ceremonies, is intimately connected with the stars.[467] He is openly incredulous about the gem glossopetra, shaped like a human tongue and supposed to fall from the sky during an eclipse of the moon and to be invaluable in selenomancy.[468]

Aside from the issue of whether the constellations control human fate at birth, Pliny's overall ideas about the universe and the impact of the stars on earthly nature are pretty similar to astrology. For him, the universe is God—“holy, eternal, vast, all in all, truly everything;”[456] and the sun is the mind and soul of the entire world, acting as the main governor of nature.[457] The planets influence each other. A cold star makes a nearby star look pale; a hot star causes its neighbor to appear red; a windy planet gives those around it a gloomy look.[458] At certain points in their orbits, the planets get pulled off their usual paths by the sun's rays—an unintentional nod to heliocentric theory.[459] Pliny attributes typical astrological traits to the planets.[460] Saturn is cold and rigid; Mars is fiery; Jupiter, situated between them, is moderate and beneficial. Beyond affecting each other, the planets especially impact the Earth.[461] For instance, Venus governs procreation in all living things.[462] Following Vergil's Georgics to some extent, Pliny claims that the stars provide undeniable signs of the weather and explains how the constellations are useful for farmers.[463] He shares how Democritus used his knowledge of astronomy to gain control over the olive harvest and embarrassed businessmen who dismissed philosophy;[464] and how, on another occasion, he warned his brother about an approaching storm in time.[465] However, Pliny does not fully endorse all the astrologers' theories about the stars controlling earthly nature. He mentions, but does not completely accept, the Babylonian belief that three specific planets are responsible for earthquakes,[466] and the idea that the gem sandastros or garamantica, used by Chaldeans in their rituals, is closely linked to the stars.[467] He is openly skeptical about the gem glossopetra, which resembles a human tongue and is said to fall from the sky during a lunar eclipse, believed to be invaluable for selenomancy.[468]

Astrological medicine.

Pliny tells how the physician Crinas of Marseilles made a fortune by regulating diet and observing hours according to the motion of the stars.[469] But he does not show much faith in astrological medicine himself, rejecting entirely the elaborate classification of diseases and remedies which the astrologers had by his time already worked out for the revolutions of the sun and moon in the twelve signs of the zodiac.[470] In his own recipes, however, astrological considerations are sometimes observed, as we have already seen, especially the rising of the dog-star and the phases of the moon. Pliny, indeed, states that the dog-star exerts an extensive influence upon the earth.[471] As for the moon, the blood in the human body augments and decreases with its waxing and waning as shell-fish and other things in nature do.[472] Indeed, painstaking men of research had discovered that even the entrails of the field-mouse corresponded in number to the days of the moon, that the ant stopped working during the interlunar days, and that diseases of the eyes of certain beasts of burden also increased and decreased with the moon.[473] But on the whole Pliny’s medicine and science do not seem nearly so immersed in and saturated with astrology as with other forms of magic. This gap was for the middle ages amply filled by the authority of Ptolemy, of whose belief in astrology we shall treat in the next chapter.

Pliny shares how the physician Crinas from Marseilles made a fortune by managing diets and timing activities based on the movement of the stars.[469] However, he doesn't seem to have much faith in astrological medicine himself, completely dismissing the detailed classification of diseases and remedies that astrologers had already developed by his time, based on the cycles of the sun and moon in the twelve zodiac signs.[470] In his own recipes, though, he sometimes includes astrological factors, as we've already noted, particularly regarding the rising of the dog-star and the phases of the moon. Pliny even claims that the dog-star has a significant impact on the earth.[471] As for the moon, he notes that the blood in the human body increases and decreases with its waxing and waning, much like shellfish and other natural phenomena do.[472] Indeed, diligent researchers had found that even the innards of the field mouse matched the number of days in the moon cycle, that ants stopped working during the days when the moon is new, and that certain eye diseases in working animals also rose and fell with the moon.[473] Overall, though, Pliny’s medicine and science don't seem to be as deeply entwined with astrology as they are with other forms of magic. This gap was more than filled in the Middle Ages by the influence of Ptolemy, whose belief in astrology we will discuss in the next chapter.

Conclusion: magic unity of Pliny’s superstitions.

We have tried to analyze the contents of the Natural History, bringing out certain main divisions and underlying principles of magic in Pliny’s agriculture, medicine, and natural science. This is, however, an artificial and difficult[Pg 99] task, since it is not easy to sever materials from ceremonial or the virtues of objects from the relations of sympathy or antipathy between them. Often the same passage might serve to illustrate several points. Take for example the following sentence: “Thrasyllus is authority that nothing is so hostile to serpents as crabs; swine who are stung cure themselves by this food, and when the sun is in Cancer, serpents are in pain.”[474] Here we have at once antipathy, the remedies used by animals, the reasoning, characteristic of magic, from association and similarity, and the belief in astrology. And this confusion, to illustrate which a hundred other examples might be collected from the Natural History, demonstrates how indissolubly interwoven are all the varied threads that we have been tracing. They all go naturally together, they belong to the same long period of thought, they represent the same stage in mental development, they all are parts of magic.

We have tried to analyze the contents of the Natural History, highlighting certain main divisions and underlying principles of magic in Pliny’s agriculture, medicine, and natural science. However, this is an artificial and challenging[Pg 99] task, as it’s not easy to separate materials from ceremonies or the properties of objects from the connections of sympathy or antipathy between them. Often, the same passage can illustrate multiple points. For example, consider this sentence: “Thrasyllus is authority that nothing is so hostile to serpents as crabs; swine who are stung cure themselves by this food, and when the sun is in Cancer, serpents are in pain.”[474] Here we see antipathy, remedies used by animals, the reasoning typical of magic based on association and similarity, and a belief in astrology. This confusion, which could be illustrated by a hundred other examples from the Natural History, shows how intricately all these varied threads are interwoven. They all connect naturally, they belong to the same long period of thought, they represent the same stage in mental development, and they are all parts of magic.


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CHAPTER III
SENECA AND PTOLEMY: NATURAL DIVINATION AND ASTROLOGY

Seneca’s Natural Questions—Nature study as an ethical substitute for existing religion—Limited field of Seneca’s work—Marvels accepted, questioned, or denied—Belief in natural divination and astrology—Divination from thunder—Ptolemy—His two chief works—His mathematical method—Attitude towards authority and observation—The Optics—Medieval translations of AlmagestTetrabiblos or Quadripartitum—A genuine reflection of Ptolemy’s approval of astrology—Validity of Astrology—Influence of the stars not inevitable—Astrology as natural science—Properties of the planets—Remaining contents of Book One—Book Two: regions—Nativities—Future influence of the Tetrabiblos.

Seneca’s Natural Questions—Studying nature as an ethical alternative to traditional religion—Narrow scope of Seneca’s work—Wonders accepted, questioned, or rejected—Belief in natural divination and astrology—Divination through thunder—Ptolemy—His two main works—His mathematical approach—View on authority and observation—The Optics—Medieval translations of AlmagestTetrabiblos or Quadripartitum—A true reflection of Ptolemy’s endorsement of astrology—Validity of astrology—Influence of the stars is not guaranteed—Astrology as a natural science—Characteristics of the planets—Remaining content of Book One—Book Two: regions—Nativities—Future impact of the Tetrabiblos.

When the stars twinkle through the loops of time.

When the stars shine through the loops of time.

Byron.

Byron.

Seneca’s Natural Questions.

In this chapter we shall preface the main theme of Ptolemy and his sanction of astrology by a consideration of another and earlier ancient writer on natural science who was very favorable to divination of the future, namely, the famous philosopher, statesman, man of letters, and tutor of Nero, Lucius Annaeus Seneca. In point of time his Natural Questions, or Problems of Nature, is a work slightly antedating even the Natural History of Pliny, but it is hardly of such importance in the history of science as the more voluminous works of the three great representatives of ancient science, Pliny, Galen, and Ptolemy. Nevertheless Seneca was well known and much cited in the middle ages as an ethical or moral philosopher, and the title, Natural Questions, was to be employed by one of the first medieval pioneers of natural science, Adelard of Bath. Seneca in any case is a name of which ancient science need not be ashamed. He tells us that in his youth he had already[Pg 101] written a treatise on earthquakes;[475] and in the present treatise his aim is to inquire into the natural causes of phenomena; he wants to know why things are so. He is aware that his own age has only entered the vestibule of the knowledge of natural phenomena and forces, that it has but just begun to know five of the many stars, that “there will come a time when our descendants will wonder that we were ignorant of matters so evident.”[476]

In this chapter, we will introduce the main theme of Ptolemy and his endorsement of astrology by looking at another, earlier ancient writer on natural science who was very supportive of predicting the future: the well-known philosopher, statesman, writer, and tutor of Nero, Lucius Annaeus Seneca. His work Natural Questions, or Problems of Nature, is slightly older than Pliny's Natural History, but it is not as significant in the history of science as the more extensive works of the three great figures of ancient science: Pliny, Galen, and Ptolemy. Nonetheless, Seneca was well-known and frequently referenced during the Middle Ages as an ethical philosopher, and the title Natural Questions was later used by one of the earliest medieval pioneers of natural science, Adelard of Bath. In any case, Seneca is a name that ancient science can be proud of. He mentions that in his youth he had already written a treatise on earthquakes; and in this current work, his goal is to explore the natural causes of phenomena; he wants to understand why things are the way they are. He recognizes that his own era has just begun to scratch the surface of knowledge about natural phenomena and forces, that it has only recently started to understand five of the many stars, and that “there will come a time when our descendants will wonder how we were unaware of things so obvious.”

Study of nature as an ethical substitute for existing religion.

In one passage Seneca perhaps expresses his consciousness of the very imperfect scientific knowledge of his own age a little too mystically. “There are sacred things which are not revealed all at once. Eleusis reserves sights for those who revisit her. Nature does not disclose her mysteries in a moment. We think ourselves initiated; we stand but at her portal. Those secrets open not promiscuously nor to every comer. They are remote of access, enshrined in the inner sanctuary.”[477] Indeed, he shows a tendency to regard scientific research as a sort of religious exercise or perhaps as a substitute for existing religion and a basis for moral philosophy. He relates physics to ethics. His enthusiasm in the study of natural forces appears largely due to the fact that he believes them to be of a sublime and divine character and above the petty affairs of men. He also as constantly and more fulsomely than Pliny inveighs against the luxury, vice, and immorality of his own day, and moralizes as to the beneficent influence which natural law and phenomena should exert upon human conduct. It is interesting to note that this habit of drawing moral lessons from the facts of nature was not peculiar to medieval or Christian writers.

In one passage, Seneca seems to express his awareness of the very limited scientific knowledge of his time a bit too mystically. “There are sacred things that aren’t revealed all at once. Eleusis holds back discoveries for those who come back. Nature doesn’t reveal her mysteries all at once. We think we’re initiated; we’re only at her door. Those secrets don’t open up casually or to everyone. They’re hard to access, kept in the inner sanctuary.”[477] Indeed, he tends to view scientific research as a kind of religious exercise or maybe as a substitute for existing religion and a foundation for moral philosophy. He connects physics with ethics. His passion for studying natural forces seems largely because he believes they have a sublime and divine nature that’s above the trivial matters of humanity. He also frequently and more emphatically than Pliny criticizes the luxury, vice, and immorality of his time, moralizing about the positive influence that natural law and phenomena should have on human behavior. It's interesting to note that this habit of drawing moral lessons from nature wasn’t unique to medieval or Christian writers.

Limited field of Seneca’s work.

With such subjects as zoology, botany, and mineralogy Seneca’s work has little to do; it does not, like Pliny’s[Pg 102] Natural History, include medicine and the industrial arts; neither does he, like Pliny, cite the lore of the magi. The phenomena of which he treats are mainly meteorological manifestations, such as winds, rain, hail, snow, comets, rainbows, and what he regards as allied subjects, earthquakes, springs, and rivers. Perhaps he would not have regarded the study of vegetables, animals, and minerals as so lofty and sublime a pursuit. At any rate, in consequence of the restricted field which Seneca covers we find very little of the marvelous medicinal and magical properties of plants, animals, and other objects, or the superstitious procedure which fill the pages of Pliny.

With topics like zoology, botany, and mineralogy, Seneca's work doesn't overlap much; it doesn’t include medicine and industrial arts like Pliny’s Natural History does, nor does he, like Pliny, reference the knowledge of the magi. The phenomena he discusses are mainly weather-related, such as winds, rain, hail, snow, comets, rainbows, and other related subjects like earthquakes, springs, and rivers. He might not have viewed the study of plants, animals, and minerals as such a noble pursuit. In any case, because of the limited scope Seneca covers, there's very little mention of the amazing medicinal and magical properties of plants, animals, and other things, or the superstitious practices that fill Pliny's writings.

Marvels accepted, questioned, or denied.

Seneca nevertheless has occasion to repeat some tall stories, such as that the river Alpheus of Greece reappears as the Arethusa in Sicily and there every four years casts up filth from its depths on the very days when victims are slaughtered at the Olympic games.[478] He also affirms that living beings are generated in fire; he believes in such effects of lightning as removing the venom from snakes which it strikes; and he recounts the old stories of floating islands and of waters with the virtue of turning white sheep black.[479] On the other hand, he qualifies by the phrases, “it is believed” and “they say,” the assertions that certain waters produce foul skin-diseases and that dew in particular, if collected in any quantity, has this evil property; and he doubts whether bathing in the Nile would enable a woman to bear more children.[480] He ridicules the custom of the city which had public watchmen appointed to warn the inhabitants of the approach of hail-storms, so that they might avert the danger by timely sacrifice or simply by pricking their own fingers so that they bled a trifle. He adds that some suggest that blood may possess some occult property of repelling storm-clouds, but he does not see how there can be such force in a drop or two and thinks it simpler to[Pg 103] regard the whole thing as false. In the same chapter he states that uncivilized antiquity used to believe that rain could be brought on or driven off by incantations, but that now-a-days no one needs a philosopher to teach him that this is impossible.[481]

Seneca, however, has the chance to share some wild stories, like how the river Alpheus in Greece reappears as the Arethusa in Sicily, where every four years it spews out filth from its depths on the exact days when sacrifices are made during the Olympic Games.[478] He also claims that living things are created in fire; he believes that lightning can remove venom from snakes it strikes; and he recounts the old tales of floating islands and waters that can turn white sheep black.[479] On the flip side, he uses phrases like “it is believed” and “they say” when talking about waters that cause nasty skin diseases and that dew, if collected in large amounts, has this bad effect; he questions whether bathing in the Nile would help a woman have more children.[480] He mocks the practice of a city that had public watchmen to alert people about approaching hailstorms, so they could avoid danger by making timely sacrifices or simply pricking their fingers for a little blood. He mentions that some believe blood might have a mysterious power to repel storm clouds, but he doesn’t understand how a drop or two could have such strength and thinks it's easier to just consider the whole idea a myth.[Pg 103] In the same chapter, he notes that primitive people used to think rain could be summoned or driven away with spells, but nowadays no one needs a philosopher to explain that this is impossible.[481]

Belief in natural divination and astrology.

But while he thus rejects incantations and is practically silent on the subject of natural magic, Seneca accepts natural divination in well-nigh all its branches: sacrificial, augury, astrology, and divination from thunder. He believes that whatever is caused is a sign of some future event.[482] Only Seneca holds that every flight of a bird is not caused by a direct act of God, nor the vitals of the victim altered under the axe by divine interference, but that all has been prearranged in a fatal and causal series.[483] He believes that all unusual celestial phenomena are to be looked upon as prodigies and portents. A meteor “as big as the moon appeared when Paulus was engaged in the war against Perseus”; similar portents marked the death of Augustus and execution of Sejanus, and gave warning of the death of Germanicus.[484] But no less truly do the planets in their unvarying courses signify the future. The stars are of divine nature, and we ought to approach the discussion of them with as reverent an air as when with lowered countenance we enter the temples for worship.[485] Not only do the stars influence the upper atmosphere as earth’s exhalations affect the lower, but they announce what is to occur.[486] Seneca employs the statement of Aristotle that comets signify the coming of storms and winds and foul weather to prove that they are stars; and declares that a comet is a portent of bad weather during the ensuing year in the same way that the Chaldeans or astrologers say that a man’s natal star determines the whole course of his life.[487] In fact, Seneca’s chief, if not sole, objection to the Chaldeans or astrologers would seem to be that in their predictions they take only five[Pg 104] stars[488] into account. “What? Think you so many thousand stars shine on in vain? What else, indeed, is it which causes those skilled in nativities to err than that they assign us to a few stars, although all those that are above us have a share in the control of our fate? Perhaps those which are nearer direct their influence upon us more closely; perhaps those of more rapid motion look down on us and other animals from more varied aspects. But even those stars that are motionless, or because of their speed keep equal pace with the rest of the universe and seem not to move, are not without rule and dominion over us.”[489] Seneca accepts the theory of Berosus that whenever all the stars are in conjunction in the sign of Cancer there will be a universal conflagration, and a second deluge when they all unite in Capricorn.[490]

But while he rejects spells and is almost silent on natural magic, Seneca accepts natural divination in almost all its forms: sacrifices, auguries, astrology, and divination from thunder. He believes that everything caused is a sign of some future event.[482] Only Seneca argues that not every flight of a bird happens due to a direct act of God, nor are the victim's insides changed by divine interference under the axe; instead, everything is part of a prearranged series of fate and cause.[483] He thinks all unusual celestial phenomena should be seen as omens and warnings. A meteor “the size of the moon appeared when Paulus was at war against Perseus”; similar omens were noted at the death of Augustus and the execution of Sejanus, and they warned of Germanicus’ death.[484] But equally true, the planets in their constant paths signal the future. The stars are of divine nature, and we should approach their discussion with as much reverence as when we enter temples for worship with our heads bowed.[485] Not only do the stars influence the upper atmosphere as Earth's emissions affect the lower, but they also announce what is about to happen.[486] Seneca uses Aristotle’s statement that comets signal the approach of storms and bad weather as proof that they are stars; he claims that a comet is a warning of bad weather in the following year just as the Chaldeans or astrologers say that a person's birth star determines their entire life path.[487] In fact, Seneca’s main, if not only, objection to the Chaldeans or astrologers seems to be that they consider only five[Pg 104] stars[488] in their predictions. “What? Do you think so many thousands of stars shine in vain? Isn’t it the case that those skilled in nativities err because they focus on just a few stars, even though all the stars above us share in shaping our fate? Perhaps those that are closer have a more direct influence on us; maybe those that move faster observe us and other creatures from different angles. But even the stars that seem motionless, or those that keep the same pace as the universe because of their speed, still have control over us.”[489] Seneca accepts the theory of Berosus that whenever all the stars align in the sign of Cancer, there will be a world fire, and a second flood will happen when they all come together in Capricorn.[490]

Divination from thunder.

It is on thunderbolts as portents of the future that Seneca dwells longest, however.[491] “They give,” he declares, “not signs of this or that event merely, but often announce a whole series of events destined to occur, and that by manifest decrees and ones far clearer than if they were set down in writing.”[492] He will not accept, however, the theory that lightning has such great power that its intervention nullifies any previous and contradictory portents. He insists that divination by other methods is of equal truth, though possibly of minor importance and significance. Next he attempts to explain how the dangers of which we are warned by divination may be averted by prayer, expiation, or sacrifice, and yet the chain of events wrought by destiny not be broken. He maintains that just as we employ the services of doctors to preserve our health, despite any belief we may have in fate, so it is useful to consult a haruspex. Then he goes on to speak of various classifications of thunderbolts according to the nature of the warnings or encouragements which they bring.

It is on thunderbolts as signs of the future that Seneca spends the most time, however.[491] “They provide,” he states, “not just signs of this or that event, but often signal a whole series of events that are set to happen, and that through clear decrees, even clearer than if they were written down.”[492] However, he rejects the idea that lightning is so powerful that its occurrence cancels out any previous and contradictory signs. He insists that divination through other methods is equally valid, though perhaps of lesser importance and relevance. Next, he tries to explain how we can avoid the dangers signaled by divination through prayer, atonement, or sacrifice, while still not breaking the chain of events determined by fate. He argues that just as we seek the help of doctors to maintain our health, regardless of our beliefs about fate, it is also wise to consult a haruspex. Then he goes on to discuss different types of thunderbolts based on the nature of the warnings or encouragements they provide.

Ptolemy.

We pass on from Seneca to a later and greater exponent of natural science and divination, Ptolemy, in the follow[Pg 105]ing century. He was perhaps born at Ptolemaïs in Egypt but lived at Alexandria. The exact years of his birth and death are unknown, and very little is recorded of his life or personality. The time when he flourished is sufficiently indicated, however, by the fact that his first recorded astronomical observation was in 127 and his last in 151 A. D. Thus most of his work was probably done during the reigns of Hadrian and Antoninus Pius, but he appears to have lived on into the reign of Marcus Aurelius. His strictly scientific style scorns rhetorical devices and literary felicities, and while it is clear and correct, is dry and impersonal.[493]

We move on from Seneca to a later and more significant figure in natural science and divination, Ptolemy, in the following century. He was likely born in Ptolemaïs, Egypt, but lived in Alexandria. The exact years of his birth and death are unknown, and there is very little recorded about his life or personality. The period during which he was active is indicated by the fact that his first recorded astronomical observation was in 127 and his last in 151 A.D. Thus, most of his work was likely done during the reigns of Hadrian and Antoninus Pius, but he seems to have lived on into the reign of Marcus Aurelius. His strictly scientific style avoids rhetorical devices and literary flourishes; while it is clear and accurate, it is also dry and impersonal.

His two chief works.

Ptolemy’s two chief works, the Geography in eight books, and ἡ μαθηματικὴ σύνταξις, or Almagest (al-μεγίστη) as the Arabs called it, in thirteen books, have been so often described in histories of mathematics, astronomy, geography, and discovery that such outline of their contents need not be repeated here. The erroneous Ptolemaic theories of a geocentric universe and of an earth’s surface on which dry land preponderated are equally well known. What is more to the point at present is to note that one of these theories was so well fitted to actual scientific observations and the other was thought to be so similarly based, that they stood the test of theory, criticism, and practice for over a thousand years.[494] It should, however, be said that the Geography does not seem to have been translated into Latin until the[Pg 106] opening of the fifteenth century,[495] when Jacobus Angelus made a translation for Pope Alexander V, (1409-1410), which is extant in many manuscripts[496] as well as in print.[497] It therefore did not have the influence and fame in the Latin middle ages that the Almagest did or the briefer astrological writings, genuine and spurious, current under Ptolemy’s name.

Ptolemy's two main works, the Geography in eight books and the ἡ μαθηματικὴ σύνταξις, or Almagest (al-μεγίστη) as the Arabs referred to it, in thirteen books, have been described so frequently in histories of mathematics, astronomy, geography, and discovery that there's no need to repeat their contents here. The incorrect Ptolemaic theories of a geocentric universe and a land-dominant earth are also widely known. What's more relevant now is to point out that one of these theories fit actual scientific observations so well, and the other was believed to be similarly based, that they stood the test of theory, criticism, and practice for over a thousand years.[494] However, it's worth mentioning that the Geography doesn't seem to have been translated into Latin until the[Pg 106] early fifteenth century,[495] when Jacobus Angelus translated it for Pope Alexander V (1409-1410), which still exists in many manuscripts[496] as well as in print.[497] Therefore, it didn't have the same influence and recognition in the Latin Middle Ages that the Almagest did or the shorter astrological writings, both real and fake, that circulated under Ptolemy's name.

His mathematical method.

We may briefly state one or two of Ptolemy’s greatest contributions to mathematical and natural science and his probable position in the history of experimental method. Perhaps of greater consequence in the history of science than any one specific thing he did was his continual reliance[Pg 107] upon mathematical method both in his astronomy and his geography. In particular may be noted his important contribution to trigonometry in his table of chords, which modern scholars have found correct to five decimal places, and his contribution to the science of cartography by his successful projection of spherical surfaces upon flat maps.

We can briefly mention a couple of Ptolemy’s biggest contributions to mathematics and natural science, as well as his likely role in the development of the experimental method. Possibly more significant in the history of science than any specific achievement was his consistent use of mathematical methods in both his astronomy and geography. Notably, he made an important contribution to trigonometry with his table of chords, which modern scholars have verified to be accurate to five decimal places, and he advanced cartography with his successful projection of spherical surfaces onto flat maps.[Pg 107]

Attitude towards authority and observation.

Ptolemy based his two great works partly upon the results already attained by earlier scientists, following Hipparchus especially in astronomy and Marinus in geography. He duly acknowledged his debts to these and other writers; praised Hipparchus and recounted his discoveries; and where he corrected Marinus, did so with reason. But while Ptolemy used previous authorities, he was far from relying upon them solely. In the Geography he adds a good deal concerning the orient and northern lands from the reports of Roman merchants and soldiers. His intention was to repeat briefly what the ancients had already made clear, and to devote his works chiefly to points which had remained obscure. His ideal was to rest his conclusions upon the surest possible observation; and where such materials were meager, as in the case of the Geography, he says so at the start. He also recognized that delicate observations should be repeated at long intervals in order to minimize the possibility of error. He devised and described some scientific instruments and conducted a long series of astronomical observations. He anteceded Comte in holding that one should adopt the simplest possible hypothesis consistent with the facts to be explained.

Ptolemy based his two major works partly on the findings of earlier scientists, especially following Hipparchus in astronomy and Marinus in geography. He acknowledged his debts to these and other writers, praised Hipparchus, and detailed his discoveries; when he corrected Marinus, he did so with good reason. However, while Ptolemy referenced previous authorities, he didn’t rely on them alone. In the Geography, he added a lot of information about the east and northern regions based on reports from Roman merchants and soldiers. His goal was to briefly summarize what the ancients had already established, focusing mainly on the areas that were still unclear. His ideal was to base his conclusions on the most reliable observations possible; when such information was lacking, as in the case of the Geography, he stated this upfront. He also recognized that delicate observations should be repeated over long periods to reduce the chance of error. He invented and described some scientific instruments and conducted an extensive series of astronomical observations. He preceded Comte in believing that one should adopt the simplest hypothesis that fits the facts to be explained.

The Optics.

Besides some minor astronomical works and a treatise on music which seems to be largely a compilation an important work on optics is ascribed to Ptolemy.[498] It is the most experimental in method of his writings, although Alexander von Humboldt’s characterization of it as the only work in ancient literature which reveals an investigator of nature[Pg 108] in the act of physical experimentation[499] must be regarded as an exaggeration in view of our knowledge of the writings of other Alexandrines such as Hero and Ctesibius. As in the case of some of Ptolemy’s other minor works, the Greek original is lost and also the Arabic text from which was presumably made the medieval Latin version which alone has come down to us. Yet there are at least sixteen manuscripts of this Latin version still in existence.[500] The translation was made in the twelfth century by Eugene of Palermo, admiral of Sicily, whose name is attached to other translations and who was also the author of a number of Greek poems.[501] Heller states that the Optics was lost at the beginning of the seventeenth century but that manuscripts of it were rediscovered by Laplace and Delambre.[502] At any rate the first of the five books is no longer extant, although Bridges thinks that Roger Bacon was acquainted with it in the thirteenth century.[503] It dealt with the relations between the eye and light. In the second book conditions of visibility are discussed and the dependence of the apparent size of bodies upon the angle of vision. The third and fourth books deal with different kinds of mirrors, plane, convex, concave, conical, and pyramidical. Most important of all is the fifth and last book, in which dioptrics and refraction are discussed for the first and only time in any extant work of antiquity,[504] provided the Optics has really come down in its present form from the time of Ptolemy. His authorship has been questioned because the subject of refraction is not mentioned in the Almagest, although even astronomical refraction is discussed in the Optics.[505] De Morgan also[Pg 109] objects that the author of the Optics is inferior to Ptolemy in knowledge of geometry.[506] Possibly a work by Ptolemy has received medieval additions, either Arabic or Latin, in the version now extant; maybe the entire fifth book is such a supplement. That works which were not Ptolemy’s might be attributed to him in the middle ages is seen from the case of Hero’s Catoptrica, the Latin translation of which from the Greek is entitled in the manuscripts Ptolemaei de speculis.[507]

Besides some minor astronomical works and a treatise on music that seems mostly to be a compilation, an important work on optics is attributed to Ptolemy.[498] It is his most experimental writing, although Alexander von Humboldt’s claim that it’s the only work in ancient literature showing a nature investigator engaged in physical experimentation[Pg 108] should be seen as an exaggeration given what we know about the writings of other Alexandrines like Hero and Ctesibius. As with some of Ptolemy’s other minor works, the Greek original is lost, as is the Arabic text that presumably informed the medieval Latin version we have today. Nevertheless, at least sixteen manuscripts of this Latin version still exist.[500] The translation was completed in the twelfth century by Eugene of Palermo, the admiral of Sicily, who is also credited with other translations and wrote several Greek poems.[501] Heller notes that the Optics was lost at the start of the seventeenth century, but manuscripts of it were rediscovered by Laplace and Delambre.[502] In any case, the first of the five books is no longer available, though Bridges believes Roger Bacon was familiar with it in the thirteenth century.[503] It discussed the relationships between the eye and light. The second book covers the conditions of visibility and how the apparent size of objects depends on the angle of vision. The third and fourth books address different types of mirrors: plane, convex, concave, conical, and pyramidal. Most importantly, the fifth and final book discusses dioptrics and refraction for the first and only time in any surviving work from antiquity,[504] provided the Optics has indeed been preserved in its current form since Ptolemy's time. His authorship has been questioned because refraction is not mentioned in the Almagest, even though astronomical refraction is addressed in the Optics.[505] De Morgan also[Pg 109] points out that the author of the Optics is less knowledgeable in geometry than Ptolemy.[506] It's possible that a work by Ptolemy has received medieval additions, either Arabic or Latin, in the version we have now; perhaps the entire fifth book is such a supplement. The fact that works not written by Ptolemy might have been attributed to him in the Middle Ages is evident in the case of Hero’s Catoptrica, whose Latin translation from the Greek is titled in manuscripts Ptolemaei de speculis.[507]

Medieval translations of Almagest.

If there is, as in other parallel cases, the possibility that the medieval period passed off recent discoveries of its own under the authoritative name of Ptolemy, there also is the certainty that it made Ptolemy’s genuine works very much its own. This may be illustrated by the case of the Almagest. On the verge of the medieval period the work was commented upon by Pappus and Theon at Alexandria in the fourth, and by Proclus in the fifth century. The Latin translation by Boethius is not extant, but the book was in great repute among the Arabs, was translated at Bagdad early in the ninth century and revised later in the same century by Tabit ben Corra. During the twelfth century it was translated into Latin both from the Greek and the Arabic. The translation most familiar in the middle ages was that completed at Toledo in 1175 by the famous translator, Gerard of Cremona. There has recently been discovered, however, by Professors Haskins and Lockwood[508] a Sicilian translation made direct from the Greek text some ten or twelve years before Gerard’s translation. There are[Pg 110] two manuscripts of this Sicilian translation in the Vatican and one at Florence, showing that it had at least some Italian currency. Gerard’s reputation and his many other astronomical and astrological translations probably account for the greater prevalence of his version, or possibly the theological opposition to natural science of which the anonymous Sicilian translator speaks in his preface had some effect in preventing the spread of his version.

If, like in other similar situations, there's a chance that the medieval period borrowed its recent discoveries under the well-known name of Ptolemy, it's also clear that it really embraced Ptolemy’s actual works as its own. A good example of this is the Almagest. Just before the medieval period, the work was analyzed by Pappus and Theon in Alexandria in the fourth century, and by Proclus in the fifth century. Although the Latin translation by Boethius doesn't survive, the book was highly regarded among the Arabs, was translated in Baghdad in the early ninth century, and later revised in the same century by Tabit ben Corra. During the twelfth century, it was translated into Latin from both the Greek and Arabic. The version most well-known in the Middle Ages was one finished in Toledo in 1175 by the well-known translator, Gerard of Cremona. Recently, however, Professors Haskins and Lockwood discovered a Sicilian translation made directly from the Greek text about ten or twelve years before Gerard’s translation. There are[Pg 110] two manuscripts of this Sicilian translation in the Vatican and one in Florence, indicating it had some circulation in Italy. Gerard’s fame and his many other translations in astronomy and astrology likely explain why his version was more widespread, or perhaps the theological criticisms of natural science mentioned by the anonymous Sicilian translator in his preface affected the distribution of his version.

The Tetrabiblos or Quadripartitum.

Of Ptolemy’s genuine works the most germane to and significant for our investigation is his Tetrabiblos, Quadripartitum, or four books on the control of human life by the stars. It seems to have been translated into Latin by Plato of Tivoli in the first half of the twelfth century[509] before Almagest or Geography appeared in Latin. In the middle of the thirteenth century Egidius de Tebaldis, a Lombard of the city of Parma, further translated the commentary of Haly Heben Rodan upon the Quadripartitum.[510] In the early Latin editions[511] the text is that of the medieval translation; in the few editions giving a Greek text there is a different Latin version translated directly from this Greek text.[512]

Of Ptolemy's genuine works, the ones most relevant and important for our study are his Tetrabiblos, Quadripartitum, or four books about how the stars influence human life. It appears to have been translated into Latin by Plato of Tivoli in the first half of the twelfth century[509] before the Almagest or Geography was available in Latin. In the middle of the thirteenth century, Egidius de Tebaldis, a Lombard from Parma, translated the commentary of Haly Heben Rodan on the Quadripartitum.[510] In the early Latin editions[511], the text is from the medieval translation; in the few editions that provide a Greek text, there is a different Latin version translated directly from that Greek text.[512]

A genuine reflection of Ptolemy’s approval of astrology.

In the Tetrabiblos the art of astrology receives sanction and exposition from perhaps the ablest mathematician and closest scientific observer of the day or at least from one who seemed so to succeeding generations. Hence from that time on astrology was able to take shelter from any criticism under the aegis of his authority. Not that it lacked[Pg 111] other exponents and defenders of great name and ability. Naturally the authenticity of the Tetrabiblos has been questioned by modern admirers of Hellenic philosophy and science who would keep the reputations of the great men of the past free from all smudge of superstition. But Franz Boll has shown that it is by Ptolemy by a close comparison of it with his other works.[513] The astrological Centiloquium or Karpos, and other treatises on divination and astrological images ascribed to Ptolemy in medieval Latin manuscripts are probably spurious, but there is no doubt of his belief in astrology. German research as usual regards its favorite Posidonius as the ultimate source of much of the Tetrabiblos, but this is not a matter of much consequence for our present investigation.

In the Tetrabiblos, the practice of astrology gets validation and explanation from perhaps the most skilled mathematician and keenest scientific observer of his time, or at least from someone who appeared to be so to later generations. Because of this, astrology was able to shield itself from criticism under the protection of his authority. Not that it was without[Pg 111] other prominent advocates and defenders of great talent. Naturally, modern admirers of Hellenic philosophy and science have questioned the authenticity of the Tetrabiblos, wanting to keep the reputations of the great figures of the past free from any taint of superstition. However, Franz Boll has demonstrated that it was written by Ptolemy through a careful comparison with his other works. The astrological Centiloquium or Karpos, along with other texts on divination and astrological images attributed to Ptolemy in medieval Latin manuscripts, are likely not genuine, but there is no doubt about his belief in astrology. German research typically considers Posidonius as the primary source for much of the Tetrabiblos, but this isn’t particularly relevant to our current investigation.

Validity of astrology.

In the Tetrabiblos Ptolemy first engages in argument as to the validity of the art of judicial astrology. If his remarks in this connection were not already trite contentions, they soon came to be regarded as truisms. The laws of astronomy are beyond dispute, says Ptolemy, but the art of prediction of human affairs from the courses of the stars may be assailed with more show of reason. Opponents of astrology object that the art is uncertain, and that it is useless since the events decreed by the force of the stars are inevitable. Ptolemy opens his argument in favor of the art by assuming as evident that a certain force is diffused from the heavens over all things on earth. If ignorant sailors are able to judge the future weather from the sky, a highly trained astronomer should be able to predict concerning its influence on man. The art itself should not be rejected because impostors frequently abuse it, and Ptolemy admits that it has not yet been brought to the point of perfection and that even the skilful investigator often makes mistakes owing to the incomplete state of human science. For one thing, Ptolemy regards the doctrine of the nature of matter held in his time as hypothetical rather than certain. Another difficulty is that old configurations of the stars can[Pg 112]not safely be used as the basis of present day predictions. Indeed, so manifold are the different possible positions of the stars and the different possible arrangements of terrestrial matter in relation to the stars that it is difficult to collect enough observations on which to base rules of general judgment. Moreover, such considerations as diversity of place, of custom, and of education must be taken into account in foretelling the future of different persons born under the same stars. But although for these reasons predictions frequently fail, yet the art is not to be condemned any more than one rejects the art of navigation because of frequent shipwrecks.

In the Tetrabiblos, Ptolemy starts by discussing the validity of judicial astrology. Even though his points were already well-known arguments, they soon became seen as obvious truths. Ptolemy states that the laws of astronomy are indisputable, but the practice of predicting human events based on star movements can be challenged with more reason. Critics of astrology argue that it’s unreliable and pointless since the events determined by the stars are unavoidable. Ptolemy begins his defense of astrology by asserting that there's an evident force from the heavens affecting everything on earth. If untrained sailors can forecast the weather by observing the sky, then a skilled astronomer should be capable of making predictions about its effects on humanity. The practice itself shouldn't be dismissed just because charlatans misuse it; Ptolemy acknowledges that it hasn't reached perfection, and even the most skilled investigators often err due to the incomplete nature of human knowledge. Additionally, he sees the contemporary understanding of matter as more hypothetical than certain. There's also the issue that old star configurations can’t reliably serve as a basis for today's predictions. In fact, there are so many potential positions of the stars and various ways earthly matters relate to them that it's tough to gather enough data to formulate general rules. Furthermore, factors like location, cultural background, and education must be considered when predicting the futures of individuals born under the same stars. However, despite these shortcomings leading to frequent failures in predictions, the practice shouldn't be condemned any more than we reject navigation because of occasional shipwrecks.

Influence of the stars not inevitable.

Nor is it true that the art is useless because the decrees of the stars are inevitable. It is often an advantage to have previous knowledge even of what cannot be avoided. Even the prediction of disaster serves to break the news gently. But not all predictions are inevitable and immutable; this is true only of the motion of the sky itself and events in which it is exclusively concerned. “But other events which do not arise solely from the sky’s motion, are easily altered by application of opposite remedies,” just as we can in part remedy the hurt of wounds and diseases or counteract the heat of summer by use of cooling things. The Egyptians have always found astrology useful in the practice of medicine.

It's not true that art is useless just because the stars have their way. Having some knowledge about what's unavoidable can actually be helpful. Even predicting bad news can make it easier to handle. But not all predictions are set in stone; this applies only to the movements of the sky and events that are completely determined by it. “Other events, which aren’t solely caused by the sky’s motion, can be changed with the right interventions,” similar to how we can partially heal wounds and illnesses or cool down the heat of summer with cooling remedies. Egyptians have always found astrology helpful in medicine.

Astrology as natural science.

Ptolemy next proceeds to set forth the natures and powers of the stars “according to the observations of the ancients and conformably to natural science.” Later, when he comes to the prediction of particulars, he still professes “to follow everywhere the law of natural causation,” and in a third passage he states that he “will omit all those things which do not have a probable natural cause, which many nevertheless scrutinize curiously and to excess: nor will I pile up divinations by lot-castings or from numbers, which are unscientific, but I will treat of those which have an investigated certainty based on the positions of the stars and the properties of places.” Connecting the positions of[Pg 113] the stars with earthly regions,—it is an art that fits in well with Ptolemy’s other occupations of astronomer and geographer! The Tetrabiblos has been called “Science’s surrender,”[514] but was it not more truly divination purified and made scientific?

Ptolemy then goes on to explain the nature and influence of the stars "based on the observations of the ancients and aligned with natural science." Later, when he discusses specific predictions, he emphasizes that he "will always follow the law of natural causation," and in another section, he mentions that he "will exclude anything that doesn’t have a likely natural cause, which many people still examine overly and curiously: nor will I include divinations from casting lots or numbers, which are unscientific; instead, I will focus on those that have proven certainty based on the positions of the stars and the characteristics of places." By linking the positions of[Pg 113] the stars with geographical regions, he engages in an art that complements his other roles as an astronomer and geographer! The Tetrabiblos has been referred to as "Science’s surrender," but wasn’t it more accurately a purified form of divination that became scientific?

Properties of the planets.

Taking up first the properties of the seven planets, Ptolemy associates with each one or more of the four elemental qualities, hot, cold, dry, and moist. Thus the sun warms and to some extent dries, for the nearer it comes to our pole the more heat and drought it produces. The moon is moist, since it is close to the earth and is affected by the vapors from the latter, while its influence renders other bodies soft and causes putrefaction. But it also warms a little owing to the rays it receives from the sun. Saturn chills and to some extent dries, for it is remote from the sun’s heat and earth’s damp vapors. Mars emits a parching heat, as its color and proximity to the sun indicate. Jupiter, situated between cold Saturn and burning Mars, is of a rather lukewarm nature but tends more to warmth and moisture than to their opposites. So does Venus, but conversely, for it warms less than Jupiter does but moistens more, its large surface catching many vapors from the neighboring earth. In Mercury, situated near sun, moon, and earth alike, neither drought nor dampness predominates, but the velocity of that planet makes it a potent cause of sudden changes. In general, the planets exert a good or evil influence as they abound in the two rich and vivifying qualities, heat and moisture, or in the detrimental ones, cold and drought. Wet stars like the moon and Venus, are feminine; Mercury is neuter; the other planets are masculine. The sex of a planet may also, however, be reckoned according to its position in relation to the sun and the horizon; and changes in the influences exerted by the planets are noted according to their position or relation to the sun. This discussion of the properties of the planets is neither convinc[Pg 114]ing nor scientific. It seems arguing in a circle to make their effects upon the earth depend to such an extent upon themselves being affected by vapors from the earth. Indeed we are rather surprised that an astronomer like Ptolemy should represent vapors from the earth as affecting the planets at all. But his discussion is at least an effort, albeit a feeble one, to express the potencies of the planets in physical terms.

Taking first the properties of the seven planets, Ptolemy connects each one with one or more of the four elemental qualities: hot, cold, dry, and moist. So, the sun warms and to some degree dries things out; the closer it gets to our pole, the more heat and dryness it creates. The moon is moist because it's close to the earth and influenced by the vapors from it, while its effect makes other bodies soft and leads to decay. However, it also warms slightly due to the rays it receives from the sun. Saturn cools and dries to some extent because it’s far from the sun’s heat and the earth’s dampness. Mars gives off a dry heat, as its color and closeness to the sun suggest. Jupiter, located between the cold of Saturn and the heat of Mars, has a somewhat lukewarm nature but tends more towards warmth and moisture than the opposites. Venus behaves similarly but in reverse; it warms less than Jupiter but moistens more, as its large surface captures many vapors from the earth nearby. Mercury, situated near the sun, moon, and earth, doesn’t lean heavily towards either dryness or dampness, but its speed makes it a strong cause of sudden changes. Overall, the planets have a good or bad influence based on their abundance of the lively qualities of heat and moisture or the harmful ones of cold and dryness. Wet planets like the moon and Venus are considered feminine; Mercury is neutral; the others are masculine. The gender of a planet can also be determined by its position relative to the sun and the horizon, and changes in planetary influences are noted according to their position with respect to the sun. This analysis of the planets' qualities is neither convincing nor scientific. It seems circular to assert that their effects on earth depend so heavily on their being affected by vapors from the earth. It’s surprising that an astronomer like Ptolemy would suggest that vapors from the earth influence the planets at all. Nevertheless, his discussion is at least an attempt—albeit a weak one—to describe the powers of the planets in physical terms.

Remaining contents of Book One.

Ptolemy goes on to discuss the powers of the fixed stars which seem to depend upon their positions in constellations and their relations to the planets. Then he treats of the influence of the four seasons of the year and four cardinal points, each of which he relates to one of the four qualities, hot, cold, dry, and moist. With a discussion of the signs of the zodiac and their division into Houses and relation in Trigones or Triplicitates or groups of three connected with the four qualities, of the exaltation of the planets in the signs and of other divisions of the signs and relations of the planets to them, the first book ends.

Ptolemy continues by discussing the effects of the fixed stars, which seem to rely on their positions in constellations and their connections to the planets. He then talks about the influence of the four seasons of the year and the four cardinal points, each of which he associates with one of the four qualities: hot, cold, dry, and moist. The discussion includes the signs of the zodiac and their division into Houses, as well as their relationships in Trigones or Triplicitates, groups of three linked to the four qualities, the exaltation of the planets in the signs, and other divisions of the signs and their relationships with the planets. This concludes the first book.

Book Two: Regions.

The second book begins by distinguishing prediction of events for whole regions or countries, such as wars, pestilences, famines, earthquakes, winds, drought, and weather, from the prediction of events in the lives of individuals. Ptolemy holds that events which affect large areas or whole peoples and cities are produced by greater and more valid causes than are the acts of individual men, and also that in order to predict aright concerning the individual it is necessary to know his region and nationality. He characterizes the inhabitants of the three great climatic zones,[515] quarters the inhabited world into Europe, Libya, and two parts for Asia in the style of the T maps, and subdivides these into different countries whose peoples are described, including such races as the Amazons. The effects of the stars vary according to time as well as place, so that the period in which any individual lives is as important to take into[Pg 115] account as his nationality. Ptolemy also discusses how the heavenly bodies influence the genus of events, a matter which depends largely upon the signs of the zodiac, and also how they determine their quality, good or bad, and species, which depends on the dominant stars and their conjunctions. Consequently he gives a list of the things which belong under the rule of each planet. The remainder of the second book is concerned chiefly with prediction of wind and weather through the year and with other meteorological phenomena such as comets.

The second book starts by differentiating between predicting events for large areas or countries, like wars, plagues, famines, earthquakes, winds, droughts, and weather, and predicting events in individuals' lives. Ptolemy argues that events affecting large regions or entire populations are caused by greater and more significant factors than the actions of individual people. He also claims that to accurately predict an individual's fate, it's essential to know their region and nationality. He categorizes the people of the three major climate zones, dividing the inhabited world into Europe, Libya, and two parts of Asia, similar to the style of T maps, and further divides these into different countries with descriptions of their inhabitants, including groups like the Amazons. The influence of the stars varies by time and place, so the era in which an individual lives is just as crucial to consider as their nationality. Ptolemy also explores how celestial bodies affect the types of events, which largely depends on the zodiac signs, and how they determine the quality—good or bad—and category of events, based on the dominant stars and their alignments. Consequently, he provides a list of the things governed by each planet. The rest of the second book mostly focuses on predicting wind and weather throughout the year and other meteorological phenomena like comets.

Nativities.

The last two books take up the prediction of events in the lives of individuals from the stars, in other words the science of nativities or genethlialogy. The third book discusses conception and birth, how to take the horoscope—Ptolemy insists that the astrolabe is the only reliable instrument for determining the exact time; sun-dials or water-clocks will not do—and how to predict concerning parents, brothers and sisters, sex, twins, monstrous births, length of life, the physical constitution of the child born and what accidents and diseases may befall it, and finally concerning mental traits and defects. The fourth book deals less with the nature of the individual and more with the prediction of external events which befall the individual: honors, office, marriage, offspring, slaves, travel, and the sort of death that he will die. Ptolemy in opening the fourth book makes the distinction that, while in the third book he treated of matters antecedent to birth or immediately related to birth or which concern the temperament of the individual, now he will deal with those external to the body and which happen to the individual from without. But of course it is difficult to maintain such a distinction with entire consistency.

The last two books focus on predicting events in people's lives based on the stars, which is the study of nativities or genethlialogy. The third book talks about conception and birth, how to create a horoscope—Ptolemy emphasizes that the astrolabe is the only reliable tool for figuring out the exact time; sun dials or water clocks aren't sufficient—and how to make predictions about parents, siblings, gender, twins, unusual births, lifespan, the physical health of the newborn, potential accidents and illnesses, as well as mental traits and defects. The fourth book focuses less on the individual's nature and more on predicting external events that happen to them: honors, positions, marriage, children, servants, travel, and the kind of death they will experience. When starting the fourth book, Ptolemy notes that while the third book addressed matters related to birth or the temperament of the individual, he will now discuss things external to the body that happen to the individual from outside. However, it's challenging to keep this distinction entirely consistent.

Future influence of the Tetrabiblos.

The great influence of the Tetrabiblos is shown not only in medieval Arabic commentaries and Latin translations, but more immediately in the astrological writings of the declining Roman Empire, when such astrologers as Hephaes[Pg 116]tion of Thebes,[516] Paul of Alexandria, and Julius Firmicus Maternus cite it as a leading authoritative work. Only the opponents of astrology appear to have remained ignorant of the Tetrabiblos, continuing to make criticisms of the art which do not apply to Ptolemy’s presentation of it or which had been specifically answered by him. Thus Sextus Empiricus, attacking astrology about 200 A. D., does not mention the Tetrabiblos and some of the Christian critics of astrology apparently had not read it. Whether the Neo-Platonists, Porphyry and Proclus, wrote an introduction to and commentary upon it is disputed.

The significant impact of the Tetrabiblos is evident not just in medieval Arabic commentaries and Latin translations, but more directly in the astrological writings from the declining Roman Empire. During this time, astrologers such as Hephaestion of Thebes, Paul of Alexandria, and Julius Firmicus Maternus referenced it as a key authoritative text. Only those who opposed astrology seem to have remained unaware of the Tetrabiblos, continuing to criticize the practice in ways that didn't apply to Ptolemy's version or that he had already addressed. For instance, Sextus Empiricus, who criticized astrology around 200 A.D., does not mention the Tetrabiblos, and some Christian critics of astrology apparently had not read it. There is debate over whether the Neo-Platonists, Porphyry and Proclus, wrote an introduction and commentary on it.


[Pg 117]

[Pg 117]

CHAPTER IV
GALEN

I. The Man and His Times

I. The Man and His Era

Recent ignorance of Galen—His voluminous works—The manuscript tradition of his works—His vivid personality—Birth and parentage—Education in philosophy and medicine—First visit to Rome—Relations with the emperors; later life—His unfavorable picture of the learned world—Corruption of the medical profession—Lack of real search for truth—Poor doctors and medical students—Medical discovery in his time—The drug trade—The imperial stores—Galen’s private supply of drugs—Mediterranean commerce—Frauds of dealers in wild beasts—Galen’s ideal of anonymity—The ancient book trade—Falsification and mistakes in manuscripts—Galen as a historical source—Ancient slavery—Social life; food and wine—Allusions to Judaism and Christianity—Galen’s monotheism—Christian readers of Galen.

Recent ignorance of Galen—His extensive works—The manuscript tradition of his works—His vibrant personality—Birth and family background—Education in philosophy and medicine—First trip to Rome—Connections with the emperors; later life—His negative view of the academic world—Corruption in the medical field—Lack of genuine pursuit of truth—Poor doctors and medical students—Medical discoveries in his time—The drug trade—The imperial supply stores—Galen’s personal supply of drugs—Mediterranean trade—Frauds by dealers in wild animals—Galen’s ideal of anonymity—The ancient book trade—Falsification and errors in manuscripts—Galen as a historical source—Ancient slavery—Social life; food and drink—References to Judaism and Christianity—Galen’s monotheism—Christian readers of Galen.

II. His Medicine and Experimental Science

II. His Medicine and Experimental Science

Four elements and four qualities—His criticism of atomism—Application of the theory of four qualities in medicine—His therapeutics obsolete—Some of his medical notions—Two of his cases—His power of rapid observation and inference—His happy guesses—Tendency toward scientific measurement—Psychological tests with the pulse—Galen’s anatomy and physiology—Experiments in dissection—Did he ever dissect human bodies?—Dissection of animals—Surgical operations—Galen’s argument from design—Queries concerning the soul—No supernatural force in medicine—Galen’s experimental instinct—His attitude toward authorities—Adverse criticism of past writers—His estimate of Dioscorides—Galen’s dogmatism; logic and experience—His account of the Empirics—How the Empirics might have criticized Galen—Galen’s standard of reason and experience—Simples knowable only through experience—Experience and food science—Experience and compounds—Suggestions of experimental method—Difficulty of medical experiment—Empirical remedies—Galen’s influence upon medieval experiment—His more general medieval influence.

Four elements and four qualities—His critique of atomism—Application of the four qualities theory in medicine—His treatments are outdated—Some of his medical ideas—Two of his cases—His ability for quick observation and inference—His lucky guesses—Tendency toward scientific measurement—Psychological tests involving the pulse—Galen’s anatomy and physiology—Dissection experiments—Did he ever dissect human bodies?—Dissection of animals—Surgical procedures—Galen’s argument from design—Questions about the soul—No supernatural force in medicine—Galen’s experimental instinct—His attitude toward authorities—Critical views on past writers—His evaluation of Dioscorides—Galen’s dogmatism; logic and experience—His account of the Empirics—How the Empirics might have critiqued Galen—Galen’s standard of reason and experience—Single substances known only through experience—Experience and food science—Experience and mixtures—Suggestions for an experimental approach—Challenges of medical experimentation—Empirical remedies—Galen’s influence on medieval experimentation—His broader influence in the medieval period.

III. His Attitude Toward Magic

III. His Attitude Toward Magic

Accusations of magic against Galen—His charges of magic against others—Charms and wonder-workers—Animal substances inadmissible[Pg 118] in medicine—Nastiness of ancient medicine—Parts of animals—Some scepticism—Doctrine of occult virtue—Virtue of the flesh of vipers—Theriac—Magical compounds—Amulets—Incantations and characters—Belief in magic dies hard—On Easily Procurable Remedies—Specimens of its superstitious contents—External signs of the temperaments of internal organs—Marvelous statements repeated by Maimonides—Dreams—Absence of astrology in most of Galen’s medicine—The Prognostication of Disease by Astrology—Critical days—On the History of Philosophy—Divination and demons—Celestial bodies.

Accusations of magic against Galen—His accusations of magic against others—Charms and miracle workers—Animal substances not allowed in medicine—The unpleasantness of ancient medicine—Parts of animals—Some skepticism—Doctrine of hidden powers—Power of the flesh of vipers—Theriac—Magical mixtures—Amulets—Incantations and symbols—Belief in magic is hard to shake off—On Easily Procurable Remedies—Examples of its superstitious content—External signs of the temperaments of internal organs—Incredible claims repeated by Maimonides—Dreams—Lack of astrology in most of Galen’s medicine—The Prognostication of Disease by Astrology—Critical days—On the History of Philosophy—Divination and demons—Celestial bodies.[Pg 118]

ἀλλ’ εἴ τις καταγνῷ μου τόδε, ὁμολογῶ τὸ πάθος τοὐμὸν ὃ παρ’ ὅλον ἐμαυτοῦ τὸν βίον ἔπαθον, οὐδενὶ πιστεύσας τῶν διηγουμένων τὰ τοιαῦτα, πρὶν πειραθῆναι καὶ αὐτὸς ὧν δυνατὸν ἦν εἰς πεῖραν ἐλθεῖν με.

ἀλλ’ εἴ τις καταγνῷ μου τόδε, ὁμολογῶ τὸ πάθος τοὐμὸν ὃ παρ’ ὅλον ἐμαυτοῦ τὸν βίον ἔπαθον, οὐδενὶ πιστεύσας τῶν διηγουμένων τὰ τοιαῦτα, πρὶν πειραθῆναι καὶ αὐτὸς ὧν δυνατὸν ἦν εἰς πεῖραν ἐλθεῖν με.

Kühn, IV, 513.

Kühn, IV, 513.

διὸ κᾂν μετ’ ἐμέ τις ὁμοίως ἐμοὶ φιλόπονός τε καὶ ξηλωτικὸς ἀληθείας γένηται, μὴ προπετῶς ἐκ δυοῖν ἢ τριῶν χρήσεων ἀποφαινέσθω. πολλάκις γὰρ αὐτῷ φανεῖται διὰ τῆς μακρᾶς πείρας ὥσπερ ἐφάνη κᾀμοὶ ...

διὸ κᾂν μετ’ ἐμέ τις ὁμοίως ἐμοὶ φιλόπονός τε καὶ ξηλωτικὸς ἀληθείας γένηται, μὴ προπετῶς ἐκ δυοῖν ἢ τριῶν χρήσεων ἀποφαινέσθω. πολλάκις γὰρ αὐτῷ φανεῖται διὰ τῆς μακρᾶς πείρας ὥσπερ ἐφάνη κᾀμοὶ ...

Kühn, XIII, 96-1.

Kühn, XIII, 96-1.

χρὴ γὰρ τὸν μέλλοντα γνώσεσθαί τι τῶν πολλῶν ἄμεινον εὐθὺς μὲν καὶ τῇ φύσει καὶ τῇ πρώτῃ διδασκαλίᾳ πολὺ τῶν ἄλλων διενεγκεῖν ἐπειδὰν δὲ γένηται μειράκιον ἀληθείας τινὸς ἔχειν ἐρωτικὴν μανίαν ὥσπερ ἐνθουσιῶντα, καὶ μήθ’ ἡμέρας μήτε νυκτὸς διαλείπειν σπεύδοντά τε καὶ συντεταμένον ἐκμαθεῖν, ὅσα τοῖς ἐνδοξοτάτοις εἴρηται τῶν παλαιῶν· ἐπειδὰν δ’ ἐκμάθη, κρίνειν αὐτὰ καὶ βασανίζειν χρόνῳ παμπόλλῳ καὶ σκοπεῖν πόσα μὲν ὁμολογεῖ τοῖς ἐναργῶς φαινομένοις πόσα δὲ διαφέρεται καὶ οὕτως τὰ μὲν αἱρεῖσθαι τὰ δ’ ἀποστρέφεσθαι.

χρὴ γὰρ τὸν μέλλοντα γνώσεσθαί τι τῶν πολλῶν ἄμεινον εὐθὺς μὲν καὶ τῇ φύσει καὶ τῇ πρώτῃ διδασκαλίᾳ πολὺ τῶν ἄλλων διενεγκεῖν ἐπειδὰν δὲ γένηται μειράκιον ἀληθείας τινὸς ἔχειν ἐρωτικὴν μανίαν ὥσπερ ἐνθουσιῶντα, καὶ μήθ’ ἡμέρας μήτε νυκτὸς διαλείπειν σπεύδοντά τε καὶ συντεταμένον ἐκμαθεῖν, ὅσα τοῖς ἐνδοξοτάτοις εἴρηται τῶν παλαιῶν· ἐπειδὰν δ’ ἐκμάθη, κρίνειν αὐτὰ καὶ βασανίζειν χρόνῳ παμπόλλῳ καὶ σκοπεῖν πόσα μὲν ὁμολογεῖ τοῖς ἐναργῶς φαινομένοις πόσα δὲ διαφέρεται καὶ οὕτως τὰ μὲν αἱρεῖσθαι τὰ δ’ ἀποστρέφεσθαι.

Κϋhν, II , 179.

Κϋhν, II, 179.

“But if anyone charges me therewith, I confess my disease from which I have suffered all my life long, to trust none of those who make such statements until I have tested them for myself in so far as it has been possible for me to put them to the test.”

“But if anyone accuses me of that, I admit my condition, which I have dealt with my entire life: I won’t trust anyone who makes such claims until I’ve verified them myself, as far as I’ve been able to test them.”

“So if anyone after me becomes like me fond of work and zealous for truth, let him not conclude hastily from two or three cases. For often he will be enlightened through long experience, just as I have been.” (It is remarkable that Ptolemy spoke similarly of his predecessor, Hipparchus, as a “lover of toil and truth”—φιλόπονον καὶ φιλαλήθεα, quoted by Orr (1913), 122.)

“So if anyone after me becomes just as passionate about work and committed to truth, they shouldn't jump to conclusions based on just two or three examples. Often, they will gain insight through extensive experience, just like I have.” (It is noteworthy that Ptolemy referred to his predecessor, Hipparchus, as a “lover of toil and truth”—φιλόπονον καὶ φιλαλήθεα, quoted by Orr (1913), 122.)

[Pg 119]

[Pg 119]

“For one who is to understand any matter better than most men do must straightway differ much from other persons in his nature and earliest education. And when he becomes a lad he must be madly in love with the truth and carried away by enthusiasm for it, and not let up by day or by night but press on and stretch every nerve to learn whatever the ancients of most repute have said. But having learned it, he must judge the same and put it to the test for a long, long time and observe what agrees with visible phenomena and what disagrees, and so accept the one and reject the other.”

“For someone to understand a subject better than most people, they must be quite different in their nature and early education. As a young man, he must be passionately in love with the truth, driven by enthusiasm day and night, determined to learn everything the most respected ancients have said. However, after learning it, he must critically evaluate and test it for a long time, observing what aligns with observable phenomena and what doesn’t, accepting the one and rejecting the other.”

I. The Man and His Times

Recent ignorance of Galen.

At the close of the nineteenth century one English student of the history of medicine said, “Galen is so inaccessible to English readers that it is difficult to learn about him at first hand.”[517] Another wrote, “There is, perhaps, no other instance of a man of equal intellectual rank who has been so persistently misunderstood and even misinterpreted.”[518] A third obstacle to the ready comprehension of Galen has been that while more critical editions of some single works have been published by Helmreich and others in recent times,[519] no complete edition of his works has appeared since that of Kühn a century ago,[520] which is now regarded as very faulty.[521] A fourth reason for neglect or[Pg 120] misunderstanding of Galen is probably that there is so much by him to be read.

At the end of the nineteenth century, one English scholar of medical history said, “Galen is so hard to access for English readers that it’s tough to learn about him directly.”[517] Another stated, “There’s probably no other example of a person of similar intellectual stature who has been so consistently misunderstood and even misrepresented.”[518] A third challenge to easily understanding Galen is that, although more critical editions of certain individual works have been published by Helmreich and others recently,[519] no complete edition of his works has been released since Kühn’s a century ago,[520] which is now seen as very flawed.[521] A fourth reason for the neglect or[Pg 120] misunderstanding of Galen is likely that there’s just so much of his work to read.

His voluminous works.

Athenaeus stated that Galen wrote more treatises than any other Greek, and although many are now lost, more particularly of his logical and philosophical writings, his collected extant works in Greek text and Latin translation fill some twenty volumes averaging a thousand pages each. When we add that often there are no chapter headings or other brief clues to the contents,[522] which must be ploughed through slowly and thoroughly, since some of the most valuable bits of information come in quite incidentally or by way of unlooked-for digression; that errors in the printed text, and the technical vocabulary with numerous words not found in most classical dictionaries increase the reader’s difficulties;[523] and that little if any of the text possesses any present medical value, while much of it is dreary enough reading even for one animated by historical interest, especially if one has no technical knowledge of medicine and surgery:—when we consider all these deterrents, we are not surprised that Galen is little known. “Few physicians or even scholars in the present day,” continues the English historian of medicine quoted above, “can claim to have read through this vast collection; I certainly least of all. I can only pretend to have touched the fringe, especially of the anatomical and physiological works.”[524]

Athenaeus noted that Galen wrote more treatises than any other Greek. Although many are now lost, especially his logical and philosophical writings, his complete works that still exist in Greek and Latin translation fill about twenty volumes, each averaging a thousand pages. It's worth mentioning that often there are no chapter headings or brief clues to the content, which means the text must be read slowly and thoroughly, as some of the most useful information comes up incidentally or through unexpected digressions. Additionally, errors in the printed text and a technical vocabulary filled with many words not found in most classical dictionaries make it harder for readers. Also, very little of the text still holds any medical relevance today, and much of it is rather dull reading, even for those with a keen interest in history, especially if they lack any technical knowledge of medicine and surgery. Given these challenges, it’s no wonder that Galen isn’t well-known. “Few doctors or even scholars today,” says the previously mentioned English historian of medicine, “can claim to have read through this extensive collection; I certainly cannot. I can only say I’ve brushed the surface, particularly of the anatomical and physiological works.”

[Pg 121]

[Pg 121]

The manuscript tradition of Galen’s works.

Although the works of Galen are so voluminous, they have reached us for the most part in comparatively late manuscripts,[525] and to some extent perhaps only in their medieval form. The extant manuscripts of the Greek text are mostly of the fifteenth century and represent the enthusiasm of humanists who hoped by reviving the study of Galen in the original to get something new and better out of him than the schoolmen had. In this expectation they seem to have been for the most part disappointed; the middle ages had already absorbed Galen too thoroughly. If it be true, as Dr. Payne contends,[526] that the chief original contributions to medical science of the Renaissance period were the work of men trained in Greek scholarship, this was because, when they failed to get any new ideas from the Greek texts, they turned to the more promising path of experimental research which both Galen and the middle ages had already advocated. The bulky medieval Latin translations[527] of Galen are older than most of the extant Greek texts; there are also versions in Arabic and Syriac.[528] For the last five books of the Anatomical Exercises the only extant text is an Arabic manuscript not yet published.[529]

Although Galen's works are quite extensive, most of them have come down to us in relatively late manuscripts and, to some extent, only in their medieval versions. The surviving manuscripts of the Greek text are mostly from the fifteenth century and reflect the enthusiasm of humanists who hoped that by reviving the study of Galen in the original language, they could gain new insights that the schoolmen had not uncovered. However, it seems they were mostly disappointed, as the Middle Ages had already assimilated Galen's ideas too completely. If Dr. Payne is correct that the main original contributions to medical science during the Renaissance came from individuals trained in Greek scholarship, this was because when they found no new concepts in the Greek texts, they shifted to the more promising route of experimental research, which both Galen and the Middle Ages had already championed. The bulky medieval Latin translations of Galen are actually older than most of the surviving Greek texts; there are also versions in Arabic and Syriac. For the last five books of the Anatomical Exercises, the only existing text is an Arabic manuscript that has not yet been published.

[Pg 122]

[Pg 122]

Galen’s vivid personality.

If so comparatively little is generally known about Galen, it is not because he had an unattractive personality. Nor is it difficult to make out the main events of his life. His works supply an unusual amount of personal information, and throughout his writings, unless he is merely transcribing past prescriptions, he talks like a living man, detailing incidents of daily life and making upon the reader a vivid and unaffected impression of reality. Daremberg asserts[530] that the exuberance of his imagination and his vanity frequently make us smile. It is true that his pharmacology and therapeutics often strike us as ridiculous, but he did not imagine them, they were the medicine of his age. It is true that he mentions cases which he has cured and those in which other physicians have been at fault, but official war despatches do the same with their own victories and the enemy’s defeats. Vae victis! In Galen’s case, at least, posterity long confirmed his own verdict. And dull or obsolete as his medicine now is, his scholarly and intellectual ideals and love of hard work at his art are still a living force, while the reader of his pages often feels himself carried back to the Roman world of the second century. Thus “the magic of literature,” to quote a fine sentence by Payne, “brings together thinkers widely separated in space and time.”[531]

If so little is generally known about Galen, it’s not because he had an unappealing personality. It’s also not hard to figure out the main events of his life. His works provide a surprising amount of personal information, and throughout his writings, unless he’s just copying old prescriptions, he writes like a real person, sharing details about daily life and leaving the reader with a vivid and genuine impression of reality. Daremberg asserts[530] that his imaginative flair and vanity often make us smile. It’s true that his pharmacology and therapeutics can seem ridiculous, but he didn’t make them up; they were the medicine of his time. He talks about cases he has cured and those in which other doctors have made mistakes, but official war reports do the same with their own victories and the enemy’s losses. Vae victis! At least in Galen’s case, history has long upheld his own judgment. And though his medicine may seem dull or outdated now, his scholarly and intellectual ideals and dedication to his practice remain influential, while readers of his work often feel transported back to the Roman world of the second century. Thus “the magic of literature,” to quote a beautiful line by Payne, “brings together thinkers widely separated in space and time.”[531]

Birth and parentage.

Galen—he does not seem to have been called Claudius until the time of the Renaissance—was born about 129 A.D.[532] at Pergamum in Asia Minor. His father, Nikon, was an architect and mathematician, trained in arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy. Much of this education he transmitted to his son, but even more valuable, in Galen’s opinion, were his precepts to follow no one sect or party but to hear and judge them all, to despise honor and glory, and to magnify truth alone. To this teaching Galen attributes his own peaceful and painless passage through life. He has never[Pg 123] grieved over losses of property but managed to get along somehow. He has not minded much when some have vituperated him, thinking instead of those who praise him. In later life Galen looked back with great affection upon his father and spoke of his own great good fortune in having as a parent that gentlest, justest, most honest and humane of men. On the other hand, the chief thing that he learned from his mother was to avoid her failings of a sharp temper and tongue, with which she made life miserable for their household slaves and scolded his father worse than Xanthippe ever did Socrates.[533]

Galen—who doesn't seem to have been called Claudius until the Renaissance—was born around 129 A.D. at Pergamum in Asia Minor. His father, Nikon, was an architect and mathematician, trained in arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy. He passed much of this education on to his son, but even more importantly, Galen valued his father's teachings to not follow any one sect or party but to listen to and judge them all, to disregard honor and glory, and to value truth above all. Galen credits this guidance for his own peaceful and painless journey through life. He has never mourned over losses of property and has managed to get by, somehow. He hasn't paid much attention when others criticized him, instead focusing on those who praised him. In his later years, Galen looked back fondly on his father and recognized his own good fortune in having a parent who was the gentlest, most just, honest, and humane man. However, the main lesson he learned from his mother was to steer clear of her sharp temper and harsh tongue, which made life difficult for their household staff and scolded his father more than Xanthippe ever did Socrates.

Education in philosophy and medicine.

In one of his works Galen speaks of the passionate love and enthusiasm for truth which has possessed him since boyhood, so that he has not stopped either by day or by night from quest of it.[534] He realized that to become a true scholar required both high natural qualifications and a superior type of education from the start. After his fourteenth year he heard the lectures of various philosophers, Platonist and Peripatetic, Stoic and Epicurean; but when about seventeen, warned by a dream of his father,[535] he turned to the study of medicine. This incident of the dream shows that neither Galen nor his father, despite their education and intellectual standards, were free from the current belief in occult influences, of which we shall find many more instances in Galen’s works. Galen first studied medicine for four years under Satyrus in his native city of Pergamum, then under Pelops at Smyrna, later under Numisianus at Corinth and Alexandria.[536] This was about the time that the great mathematician and astronomer, Ptolemy, was completing his observations[537] in the neighborhood of Alexandria, but Galen does not mention him, despite his own belief that a first-rate physician should also know such subjects as[Pg 124] geometry and astronomy, music and rhetoric.[538] Galen’s interest in philosophy continued, however, and he wrote many logical and philosophical treatises, most of which are lost.[539] His father died when he was twenty, and it was after this that he went to other cities to study.

In one of his works, Galen talks about the intense love and passion for truth that he has felt since he was a boy, which led him to search for it day and night. He understood that becoming a true scholar required both natural talent and high-quality education from the beginning. After turning fourteen, he attended lectures by various philosophers, including Platonists, Peripatetics, Stoics, and Epicureans. But when he was about seventeen, he had a dream about his father that prompted him to shift his focus to studying medicine. This dream shows that neither Galen nor his father, despite their education and intellectual backgrounds, were free from the common belief in hidden influences, of which we will see more examples in Galen’s works. Galen first studied medicine for four years under Satyrus in his hometown of Pergamum, then under Pelops in Smyrna, and later under Numisianus in Corinth and Alexandria. This was around the time the great mathematician and astronomer Ptolemy was finishing his observations in the area of Alexandria, but Galen doesn't mention him, even though he believed that a top-notch physician should also study subjects like geometry, astronomy, music, and rhetoric. Galen’s interest in philosophy persisted, and he wrote many logical and philosophical treatises, most of which have been lost. His father passed away when he was twenty, and after that, he traveled to other cities to continue his studies.

First visit to Rome.

Galen returned to Pergamum to practice and was, when but twenty-nine, made the doctor for the gladiators by five successive pontiffs.[540] During his thirties came his first residence at Rome.[541] The article on Galen in Pauly-Wissowa states that he was driven away from Rome by the plague, and in De libris propriis he does say that, “when the great plague broke out there, I hurriedly departed from the city for my native land.”[542] But in De prognosticatione ad Epigenem his explanation is that he became disgusted with the malice of the envious physicians of the capital, and determined to return home as soon as the sedition there was over.[543] Meanwhile he stayed on and gained great fame by his cures but their jealousy and opposition multiplied, so that presently, when he learned that the sedition was over, he went back to Pergamum.

Galen went back to Pergamum to practice medicine and, at just twenty-nine, was appointed as the doctor for the gladiators by five consecutive pontiffs.[540] During his thirties, he spent time in Rome.[541] The article about Galen in Pauly-Wissowa mentions that he left Rome due to the plague, and in De libris propriis, he writes, “when the great plague broke out there, I quickly left the city for my homeland.”[542] However, in De prognosticatione ad Epigenem, he explains that he was put off by the malice of the jealous physicians in the capital and decided to return home as soon as the unrest was over.[543] In the meantime, he stayed and gained a lot of fame for his treatments, but the jealousy and opposition against him grew. Eventually, when he found out that the unrest had ended, he returned to Pergamum.

Relations with the emperors: later life.

His fame, however, had come to the imperial ears and he was soon summoned to Aquileia to meet the emperors on their way north against the invading Germans. An outbreak of the plague there prevented their proceeding with the campaign immediately,[544] and Galen states that the emperors fled for Rome with a few troops, leaving the rest to suffer from the plague and cold winter. On the way Lucius Verus died, and when Marcus Aurelius finally returned to the front, he allowed Galen to go back to Rome as court[Pg 125] physician to Commodus.[545] The prevalence of the plague at this time is illustrated by a third encounter which Galen had with it in Asia, when he claims to have saved himself and others by thorough venesection.[546] The war lasted much longer than had been anticipated and meanwhile Galen was occupied chiefly in literary labors, completing a number of works. In 192 some of his writings and other treasures were lost in a fire which destroyed the Temple of Peace on the Sacred Way. Of some of the works which thus perished he had no other copy himself. In one of his works on compound medicines he explains that some persons may possess the first two books which had already been published, but that these had perished with others in a shop on the Sacra Via when the whole shrine of peace and the great libraries on the Palatine hill were consumed, and that his friends, none of whom possessed copies, had besought him to begin the work all over again.[547] Galen was still alive and writing during the early years of the dynasty of the Severi, and probably died about 200.

His fame eventually reached the emperors, and he was quickly called to Aquileia to meet them on their way north to fight the invading Germans. An outbreak of plague there delayed their campaign, and according to Galen, the emperors fled to Rome with a small group of troops, leaving the rest to face the plague and harsh winter. On the journey, Lucius Verus died, and when Marcus Aurelius finally returned to the front, he allowed Galen to return to Rome as court[Pg 125] physician to Commodus. The widespread plague at this time is highlighted by a third encounter Galen had with it in Asia, where he claims to have saved himself and others through extensive bloodletting. The war lasted much longer than expected, and in the meantime, Galen focused mainly on his writing, completing several works. In 192, some of his writings and other valuable items were lost in a fire that destroyed the Temple of Peace on the Sacred Way. He had no other copies of some of the works that were lost. In one of his texts on compound medicines, he explains that some people might still have the first two published books, but those had been lost along with others in a shop on the Sacra Via when the entire shrine of peace and the great libraries on the Palatine hill were burned down. His friends, none of whom had copies, pleaded with him to start the work over again. Galen was still alive and writing during the early years of the Severi dynasty and probably died around 200.

His unfavorable picture of the learned world.

Although the envy of other physicians at Rome and their accusing him of resort to magic arts and divination in his marvelous prognostications and cures were perhaps neither the sole nor the true reason for Galen’s temporary withdrawal from the capital, there probably is a great deal of truth in the picture he paints of the medical profession and learned world of his day. There are too many other ancient witnesses, from the encyclopedist Pliny and the satirist Juvenal to the fourth century lawyer and astrologer, Firmicus, who substantiate his charges to permit us to explain them away as the product of personal bitterness or[Pg 126] pessimism. We feel that these men lived in an intellectual society where faction and villainy, superstition and petty-mindedness and personal enmity, were more manifest than in the quieter and, let us hope, more tolerant learned world of our time. Selfishness and pretense, personal likes and dislikes, undoubtedly still play their part, but there is not passionate animosity and open war to the knife on every hand. The status belli may still be characteristic of politics and the business world, but scholars seem able to live in substantial peace. Perhaps it is because there is less prospect of worldly gain for members of the learned professions than in Galen’s day. Perhaps it is due to the growth of the impartial scientific spirit, of unwritten codes of courtesy and ethics within the leading learned professions, and of state laws concerning such matters as patents, copyright, professional degrees, pure food, and pure drugs. Perhaps, in the unsatisfactory relations between those who should have been the best educated and most enlightened men of that time we may see an important symptom of the intellectual and ethical decline of the ancient world.

Although the jealousy from other doctors in Rome and their accusations of Galen using magic and fortune-telling in his amazing predictions and treatments might not have been the only reason for his temporary retreat from the city, there’s likely a lot of truth in his portrayal of the medical field and intellectual community of his time. Many other ancient figures, from the encyclopedist Pliny and the satirist Juvenal to the fourth-century lawyer and astrologer Firmicus, back up his claims, making it hard to dismiss them as mere personal resentment or pessimism. It seems these individuals lived in an intellectual environment where rivalry and malice, superstition and narrow-mindedness, and personal grudges were more pronounced than in the calmer and, hopefully, more tolerant scholarly world we have today. Self-interest and pretentiousness, along with personal preferences and dislikes, still play a role, but there isn’t the same level of fierce animosity and open warfare on all sides. The state of conflict may still characterize politics and business, but scholars appear to coexist in significant peace. This might be because there are fewer chances for personal gain in academia today compared to Galen’s time. It could also relate to the rise of an impartial scientific ethos, unwritten codes of respect and ethics among leading professions, and government regulations on matters like patents, copyrights, professional qualifications, and food and drug safety. Perhaps the unsatisfactory relationships among those who should have been the most educated and enlightened people of that era reflect a significant symptom of the intellectual and ethical decline in the ancient world.

Corruption of the medical profession.

Galen states that many tire of the long struggle with crafty and wicked men which they have tried to carry on, relying upon their erudition and honest toil alone, and withdraw disgusted from the madding crowd to save themselves in dignified retirement. He especially marvels at the evil-mindedness of physicians of reputation at Rome. Though they live in the city, they are a band of robbers as truly as the brigands of the mountains. He is inclined to account for the roguery of Roman physicians compared to those of a smaller city by the facts that elsewhere men are not so tempted by the magnitude of possible gain and that in a smaller town everyone is known by everyone else and questionable practices cannot escape general notice. The rich men of Rome fall easy prey to these unscrupulous practitioners who are ready to flatter them and play up to their weaknesses. These rich men can see the use of arithmetic and geometry, which enable them to keep their books[Pg 127] straight and to build houses for their domestic comfort, and of divination and astrology, from which they seek to learn whose heirs they will be, but they have no appreciation of pure philosophy apart from rhetorical sophistry.[548]

Galen says that many people get tired of the ongoing battle with clever and wicked individuals they’ve tried to confront, relying solely on their knowledge and honest hard work. They step back, frustrated, from the chaotic crowd to seek solace in dignified solitude. He is particularly astonished by the dishonesty of well-known doctors in Rome. Although they live in the city, they are as much a group of thieves as the bandits in the mountains. He believes that the deceitfulness of Roman doctors, compared to those in smaller towns, can be explained by the fact that in smaller places, people aren’t tempted by large potential rewards, and everyone knows each other, so shady practices can’t go unnoticed. Wealthy Romans easily fall victim to these unprincipled practitioners who are eager to flatter them and exploit their weaknesses. These wealthy individuals can see the value of math and geometry, which help them manage their finances and build comfortable homes, and they turn to divination and astrology to determine who their heirs will be, but they have no appreciation for true philosophy outside of rhetorical tricks.[Pg 127]

Lack of real search for truth.

Galen more than once complains that there are no real seekers after truth in his time, but that all are intent upon money, political power, or pleasure. You know very well, he says to one of his friends in the De methodo medendi, that not five men of all those whom we have met prefer to be rather than to seem wise.[549] Many make a great outward display and pretense in medicine and other arts who have no real knowledge.[550] Galen several times expresses his scorn for those who spend their mornings in going about saluting their friends, and their evenings in drinking bouts or in dining with the rich and powerful. Yet even his friends have reproached him for studying too much and not going out more. But while they have wasted their hours thus, he has spent his, first in learning all that the ancients have discovered that is of value, then in testing and practicing the same.[551] Moreover, now-a-days many are trying to teach others what they have never accomplished themselves.[552] Thessalus not only toadied to the rich but secured many pupils by offering to teach them medicine in six months.[553] Hence it is that tailors and dyers and smiths are abandoning their arts to become physicians. Thessalus himself, Galen ungenerously taunts, was educated by a father who plucked wool badly in the women’s apartments.[554] Indeed, Galen himself, by the violence of his invective and the occasional passionateness of his animosity in his controversies with other individuals or schools of medicine, illustrates that state of war in the intellectual world of his age to which we have adverted.

Galen often complains that there are no real seekers of truth in his time; instead, everyone is focused on money, political power, or pleasure. He notes to one of his friends in the De methodo medendi that not even five men among all those we've met would rather be wise than appear wise. Many put on a big show and pretend to be knowledgeable in medicine and other fields, but they lack real understanding. Galen frequently expresses his disdain for those who spend their mornings socializing and their evenings drinking or dining with the wealthy and influential. Yet, even his friends criticize him for studying too much and not going out enough. While they waste their time this way, he dedicates his hours to learning all that the ancients discovered that holds value, and then he tests and practices that knowledge. Moreover, nowadays, many are trying to teach others what they have never achieved themselves. Thessalus not only flattered the rich but also attracted many students by promising to teach them medicine in six months. As a result, tailors, dyers, and smiths are leaving their trades to become doctors. Galen ironically points out that Thessalus was raised by a father who poorly made wool products in the women's quarters. Indeed, Galen himself, through the intensity of his criticisms and the occasional fervor of his hostility in debates with other individuals or medical schools, exemplifies the intellectual conflicts of his time.

[Pg 128]

[Pg 128]

Poor doctors and medical students.

We suggested the possibility that learning compared to other occupations was more remunerative in Galen’s day than in our own, but there were poor physicians and medical students then, as well as those greedy for gain or who associated with the rich. Many doctors could not afford to use the rarer or stronger simples and limited themselves to easily procured, inexpensive, and homely medicaments.[555] Many of his fellow-students regarded as a counsel of perfection unattainable by them Galen’s plan of hearing all the different medical sects and comparing their merits and testing their validity.[556] They said tearfully that this course was all very well for him with his acute genius and his wealthy father behind him, but that they lacked the money to pursue an advanced education, perhaps had already lost valuable time under unsatisfactory teachers, or felt that they did not possess the discrimination to select for themselves what was profitable from several conflicting schools.

We suggested that learning might have been more lucrative than other professions in Galen’s time compared to today, but there were still poor doctors and medical students back then, along with those who were greedy for money or who mingled with the wealthy. Many doctors couldn’t afford to use the rarer or stronger remedies and stuck to easily available, cheap, and common medicines.[555] Many of his fellow students viewed Galen’s idea of studying all the different medical schools, comparing their strengths, and testing their validity as a lofty goal that was out of reach for them.[556] They expressed regret that this approach worked well for him because of his sharp intellect and his affluent father, but they didn’t have the funds to pursue further education, may have already wasted time with unsatisfactory instructors, or felt they lacked the ability to choose what was beneficial from the various conflicting schools.

Medical discovery in Galen’s time.

Galen was, it has already been made apparent, an intellectual aristocrat, and possessed little patience with those stupid men who never learn anything for themselves, though they see a myriad cures worked before their eyes. But that, apart from his own work, the medical profession was not entirely stagnant in his time, he admits when he asserts that many things are known to-day which had not been discovered before, and when he mentions some curative methods recently invented at Rome.[557]

Galen was, as has already been pointed out, a highly educated individual, and he had little tolerance for those foolish people who never learn anything for themselves, even when they witness countless treatments being performed right in front of them. Still, aside from his own contributions, he acknowledges that the medical field was not completely stagnant during his time when he claims that many things are known today that had not been discovered before, and when he refers to some new healing methods recently developed in Rome.[557]

The drug trade.

Galen supplies considerable information concerning the drug trade in Rome itself and throughout the empire. He often complains of adulteration and fraud. The physician must know the medicinal simples and their properties himself and be able to detect adulterated medicines, or the merchants, perfumers, and herbarii will deceive him.[558] Galen refuses to reveal the methods employed in adulterating opobalsam, which he had investigated personally, lest the[Pg 129] evil practice spread further.[559] At Rome at least there were dealers in unguents who corresponded roughly to our druggists. Galen says there is not an unguent-dealer in Rome who is unacquainted with herbs from Crete, but he asserts that there are equally good medicinal plants growing in the very suburbs of Rome of which they are totally ignorant, and he taxes even those who prepare drugs for the emperors with the same oversight. He tells how the herbs from Crete come wrapped in cartons with the name of the herb written on the outside and sometimes the further statement that it is campestris.[560] These Roman drug stores seem not to have kept open at night, for Galen in describing a case speaks of the impossibility of procuring the medicines needed at once because “the lamps were already lighted.”[561]

Galen provides a lot of information about the drug trade in Rome and across the empire. He frequently complains about mixing and fraud. The physician needs to understand the medicinal plants and their properties personally and be able to spot fake medicines, or else the merchants, perfumers, and herbarii will trick him. [558] Galen chooses not to disclose the methods used to adulterate opobalsam, which he investigated himself, to prevent the harmful practice from spreading further. [559] In Rome, there were sellers of unguents who were somewhat like our pharmacists. Galen states that there isn't an unguent seller in Rome who doesn't know about herbs from Crete, but he claims there are equally good medicinal plants growing right in the suburbs of Rome that they are completely unaware of, and he criticizes even those who prepare drugs for the emperors for this ignorance. He explains that the herbs from Crete come packed in boxes with the name of the herb written on the outside and sometimes a label saying it is campestris. [560] These Roman drugstores didn't seem to stay open at night, as Galen, in describing a situation, mentions that it was impossible to get the needed medicines right away because “the lamps were already lighted.” [561]

The imperial stores.

The emperors kept a special store of drugs of their own and had botanists in Sicily, Crete, and Africa who supplied not only them with medicinal herbs, but also the city of Rome as well, Galen says. However, the emperors appear to have reserved a large supply of the finest and rarest simples for their own use. Galen mentions a large amount of Hymettus honey in the imperial stores—ἐν ταῖς αὐτοκρατορικαῖς ἀποθήκαις,[562] whence our word “apothecary.”[563] He proves that cinnamon[564] loses its potency with time by his own ex[Pg 130]perience as imperial physician. An assignment of the spice sent to Marcus Aurelius from the land of the barbarians (ἐκ τῆς βαρβάρου) was superior to what had stood stored in wooden jars from the reigns of Trajan, Hadrian, and Antoninus Pius. Commodus exhausted all the recent supply, and when Galen was forced to turn to what had been on hand in preparing an antidote for Severus, he found it much weaker than before, although not thirty years had elapsed. That cinnamon was a commodity little known to the populace is indicated by Galen’s mentioning his loss in the fire of 192 of a few precious bits of bark he had stored away in a chest with other treasures.[565] He praises the Severi, however, for permitting others to use theriac, a noted medicine and antidote of which we shall have more to say presently. Thus, he says, not only have they as emperors received power from the gods, but in sharing their goods freely they are like the gods, who rejoice the more, the more people they save.[566]

The emperors maintained a special stash of drugs and employed botanists in Sicily, Crete, and Africa who provided them with medicinal herbs, as well as the city of Rome, according to Galen. However, the emperors seems to have kept a large supply of the finest and rarest ingredients for themselves. Galen notes a significant amount of Hymettus honey in the imperial stores—ἐν ταῖς αὐτοκρατορικαῖς ἀποθήκαις,[562] which is where our word “apothecary” comes from.[563] He demonstrates that cinnamon[564] loses its potency over time through his own experience as an imperial physician. A shipment of spice sent to Marcus Aurelius from the barbarian lands (ἐκ τῆς βαρβάρου) was better than what had been stored in wooden jars since the reigns of Trajan, Hadrian, and Antoninus Pius. Commodus depleted the recent supply, and when Galen had to rely on what was left to prepare an antidote for Severus, he found it much weaker than it had been, even though less than thirty years had passed. The fact that cinnamon was not well known to the general public is highlighted by Galen mentioning the loss of a few precious pieces of bark he had stored away in a chest with other treasures during the fire of 192.[565] He commends the Severi for allowing others to use theriac, a well-known medicine and antidote, which we will discuss more shortly. He states that not only have they received power from the gods as emperors, but by sharing their resources generously, they resemble the gods who rejoice the more, the more lives they save.[566]

Galen’s private supply of drugs: terra sigillata.

Galen himself, and apparently other physicians, were not content to rely for medicines either upon the unguent-sellers or the bounty of the imperial stores. Galen stored away oil and fat and left them to age until he had enough to last for a hundred years, including some from his father’s lifetime. He used some forty years old in one prescription.[567] He also traveled to many parts of the Roman Empire and procured rare drugs in the places where they were produced. Very interesting is his account of going out of his way in journeying back and forth between Rome and Pergamum in order to stop at Lemnos and procure a supply of the famous terra sigillata, a reddish clay stamped into pellets with the sacred seal of Diana.[568] On the way to Rome, instead of journeying on foot through Thrace and Macedonia, he took ship from the Troad to Thessalonica; but the vessel stopped[Pg 131] in Lemnos at Myrine on the wrong side of the island, which Galen had not realized possessed more than one port, and the captain would not delay the voyage long enough to enable him to cross the island to the spot where the terra sigillata was to be found. Upon his return from Rome through Macedonia, however, he took pains to visit the right port, and for the benefit of future travelers gives careful instructions concerning the route to follow and the distances between stated points. He describes the solemn procedure by which the priestess from the neighboring city gathered the red earth from the hill where it was found, sacrificing no animals, but wheat and barley to the earth. He brought away with him some twenty thousand of the little discs or seals which were supposed to cure even lethal poisons and the bite of mad dogs. The inhabitants laughed, however, at the assertion which Galen had read in Dioscorides that the seals were made by mixing the blood of a goat with the earth. Berthelot, the historian of chemistry, believed that this earth was “an oxide of iron more or less hydrated and impure.”[569] In another passage Galen advises his readers,[Pg 132] if they are ever in Pamphylia, to lay in a good supply of the drug carpesium.[570] In the ninth book of his work on medicinal simples he tells of three strata of sory, chalcite, and misy, which he had seen in a mine in Cyprus thirty years before and from which he had brought away a supply, and of the surprising chemical change which the misy underwent in the course of these years.[571]

Galen himself, along with other doctors, wasn't satisfied with relying on the ointment vendors or the generosity of the imperial supply. He stocked up on oil and fat, letting them age until he had enough for a hundred years, including some from his father's time. He even used oil that was about forty years old in one prescription.[567] He traveled extensively throughout the Roman Empire to obtain rare drugs from their places of origin. Notably, he recounts going out of his way on trips between Rome and Pergamum to stop in Lemnos and get a supply of the famous terra sigillata, a reddish clay shaped into pellets bearing the sacred seal of Diana.[568] On his way to Rome, instead of going on foot through Thrace and Macedonia, he took a ship from the Troad to Thessalonica. However, the ship stopped in Lemnos at Myrine, the wrong port on the island, which Galen had not realized had multiple ports, and the captain wouldn't delay long enough for him to cross the island to where the terra sigillata was located. On his return from Rome through Macedonia, he made sure to visit the correct port and provided detailed instructions for future travelers about the route to take and the distances between key points. He describes the solemn ritual in which the priestess from the nearby city collected the red earth from the hill where it was found, sacrificing no animals but offering wheat and barley to the earth. He returned with about twenty thousand of the small discs or seals believed to cure even deadly poisons and rabid dog bites. The locals, however, laughed at the claim he read in Dioscorides that the seals were created by mixing goat's blood with the earth. Berthelot, the historian of chemistry, suggested that this earth was “an oxide of iron, more or less hydrated and impure.”[569] In another section, Galen advises his readers,[Pg 132] if they're ever in Pamphylia, to stock up on the drug carpesium.[570] In the ninth book of his work on medicinal simples, he talks about three layers of sory, chalcite, and misy that he saw in a mine in Cyprus thirty years earlier and mentions the surprising chemical changes that the misy underwent over those years.[571]

Mediterranean commerce.

Galen speaks of receiving other drugs from Great Syria, Palestine, Egypt, Cappadocia, Pontus, Macedonia, Gaul, Spain, and Mauretania, from the Celts, and even from India.[572] He names other places in Greece and Asia Minor than Mount Hymettus where good honey may be had, and states that much so-called Attic honey is really from the Cyclades, although it is brought to Athens and there sold or reshipped. Similarly, genuine Falernian wine is produced only in a small part of Italy, but other wines like it are prepared by those who are skilled in such knavery. As the best iris is that of Illyricum and the best asphalt is from Judea, so the best petroselinon is that of Macedonia, and merchants export it to almost the entire world just as they do Attic honey and Falernian wine. But the petroselinon crop of Epirus is sent to Thessalonica and there passed off for Macedonian. The best turpentine is that of Chios but a good variety may be obtained from Libya or Pontus. The manufacture of drugs has spread recently as well as the commerce in them. The[Pg 133] best form of unguent was formerly made only in Laodicea, but now it is similarly compounded in many other cities of Asia Minor.[573]

Galen talks about getting different drugs from places like Great Syria, Palestine, Egypt, Cappadocia, Pontus, Macedonia, Gaul, Spain, and Mauretania, from the Celts, and even from India.[572] He mentions other locations in Greece and Asia Minor besides Mount Hymettus where good honey can be found and points out that a lot of honey labeled as Attic actually comes from the Cyclades, although it is brought to Athens for sale or reshipment. Similarly, real Falernian wine is made in just a small area of Italy, but others like it are created by those skilled in deception. Just as the best iris comes from Illyricum and the best asphalt from Judea, the best petroselinon originates in Macedonia, and traders export it around the world, just like they do with Attic honey and Falernian wine. However, the petroselinon harvested in Epirus is sent to Thessalonica and sold there as if it’s from Macedonia. The best turpentine comes from Chios, but a decent variety can also be found from Libya or Pontus. The production of drugs has expanded recently, along with the trade in them. The[Pg 133] best type of ointment used to be made only in Laodicea, but now it can also be made in many other cities across Asia Minor.[573]

Frauds of dealers in wild beasts.

We are reminded that parts of animals as well as herbs and minerals were important constituents in ancient pharmacy by Galen’s invective against the frauds of hunters and dealers in wild beasts as well as of unguent-sellers. They do not hunt them at the proper season for securing their medicinal virtues, but when they are no longer in their prime or just after their long period of hibernation, when they are emaciated. Then they fatten them upon improper food, feed them barley cakes to stuff up and dull their teeth, or force them to bite frequently so that virus will run out of their mouths.[574]

We’re reminded that parts of animals, along with herbs and minerals, were key ingredients in ancient medicine by Galen's criticism of the deceitful practices of hunters and sellers of wild animals, as well as those who sell ointments. They don’t hunt these animals at the right time to capture their medicinal properties, but rather when they are past their prime or just after a long hibernation when they are thin and weak. Then, they fatten them up with inappropriate food, stuffing them with barley cakes to fill and dull their teeth, or making them bite often so that toxins will flow out of their mouths.[574]

Galen’s ideal of anonymity.

Besides the ancient drug trade, Galen gives us some interesting glimpses of the publishing trade, if we may so term it, of his time. Writing in old age in the De methodo medendi,[575] he says that he has never attached his name to one of his works, never written for the popular ear or for fame, but fired by zeal for science and truth, or at the urgent request of friends, or as a useful exercise for himself, or, as now, in order to forget his old age. Popular fame is only an impediment to those who desire to live tranquilly and enjoy the fruits of philosophy. He asks Eugenianus, whom he addresses in this passage, not to praise him immoderately before men, as he has been wont to do, and not to inscribe his name in his works. His friends nevertheless prevailed upon him to write two treatises listing his works,[576] and he also is free enough in many of his books in mentioning others which are essential to read before perusing the present volume.[577] Perhaps he felt differently at different times on the question of fame and anonymity. He also objected[Pg 134] to those who read his works, not to learn anything from them, but only in order to calumniate them.[578]

Besides the ancient drug trade, Galen offers some intriguing insights into the publishing industry of his time. Writing in his later years in the De methodo medendi,[575] he mentions that he has never put his name on any of his works, never written for popularity or fame, but driven by a passion for science and truth, or at the persistent request of friends, or as a way to exercise his mind, or, as now, to cope with the reality of aging. Popular fame is just a hindrance for those who want to live peacefully and enjoy the benefits of philosophy. He asks Eugenianus, whom he addresses here, not to excessively praise him in public, as he has often done, and not to include his name in his works. Nevertheless, his friends convinced him to write two treatises listing his works,[576] and he also frequently mentions other key texts that are essential to read before diving into the current volume.[577] Perhaps his views on fame and anonymity varied over time. He also criticized those who read his works not to gain knowledge from them, but simply to slander them.[578]

The ancient book trade.

It was in a shop on the Sacra Via that most of the copies of some of Galen’s works were stored when they, together with the great libraries upon the Palatine, were consumed in the fire of 192. But in another passage Galen states that the street of the Sandal-makers is where most of the bookstores in Rome are located.[579] There he saw some men disputing whether a certain treatise was his. It was duly inscribed Galenus medicus and one man, because the title was unfamiliar to him, bought it as a new work by Galen. But another man who was something of a philologer asked to see the introduction, and, after reading a few lines, declared that the book was not one of Galen’s works. When Galen was still young, he wrote three commentaries on the throat and lungs for a fellow student who wished to have something to pass off as his own work upon his return home. This friend died, however, and the books got into circulation.[580] Galen also complains that notes of his lectures which he has not intended for publication have got abroad,[581] that his servants have stolen and published some of his manuscripts, and that others have been altered, corrupted, and mutilated by those into whose possession they have come, or have been passed off by them in other lands as their own productions.[582] On the other hand, some of his pupils keep his teachings to themselves and are unwilling to give others the benefit of them, so that if they should die suddenly, his doctrines would be lost.[583] But his own ideal has always been to share his knowledge freely with those who sought it, and if possible with all mankind. At least one of Galen’s works was taken down from his dictation by short-hand writers, when, after his convincing demonstration by dissection concerning respiration and the voice, Boëthus asked him for commentaries on the subject and[Pg 135] sent for stenographers.[584] Although Galen in his travels often purchased and carried home with him large quantities of drugs, when he made his first trip to Rome he left all his books in Asia.[585]

It was in a shop on the Sacred Way that most of the copies of some of Galen's works were stored when they, along with the great libraries on the Palatine, were destroyed in the fire of 192. But in another passage, Galen mentions that the street of the Sandal-makers is where most of the bookstores in Rome are located.[579] There, he saw some men arguing about whether a certain treatise was his. It was titled Galenus medicus and one man, not recognizing the title, bought it as a new work by Galen. But another man, who was a bit of a scholar, asked to see the introduction, and after reading a few lines, announced that the book wasn’t one of Galen's works. When Galen was still young, he wrote three commentaries on the throat and lungs for a classmate who wanted something to present as his own work when he went home. Unfortunately, this friend died, and the books circulated. [580] Galen also complains that notes from his lectures, which he didn’t want published, have gotten out.[581] He claims his servants have stolen and published some of his manuscripts, and that others have been altered, corrupted, and mutilated by those who got hold of them, or have been passed off by them in other countries as their own work.[582] On the other hand, some of his students keep his teachings to themselves and are unwilling to share them with others, so that if they were to die suddenly, his ideas would be lost.[583] But Galen's ideal has always been to share his knowledge freely with anyone who sought it, and if possible, with all of humanity. At least one of Galen's works was transcribed from his dictation by shorthand writers when, after his convincing demonstration through dissection about respiration and the voice, Boëthus asked him for commentaries on the subject and[Pg 135] sent for stenographers.[584] Although Galen often bought and brought back large amounts of drugs during his travels, he left all his books in Asia during his first trip to Rome.[585]

Falsification and mistakes in manuscripts.

Galen dates the falsification of title pages and contents of books back to the time when kings Ptolemy of Egypt and Attalus of Pergamum were bidding against each other for volumes for their respective libraries.[586] Works were often interpolated then in order to make them larger and so bring a better price. Galen speaks more than once of the deplorable ease with which numbers, signs, and other abbreviations are altered in manuscripts.[587] A single stroke of the pen or slight erasure will completely change the meaning of a medical prescription. He thinks that such alterations are sometimes malicious and not mere mistakes. So common were they that Menecrates composed a medical work written out entirely in complete words and entitled Autocrator Hologrammatos because it was also dedicated to the emperor. Another writer, Damocrates, from whom Galen often quotes long passages, composed his book of medicaments in metrical form so that there might be no mistake made even in complete words.

Galen traces the fake title pages and content of books back to when Kings Ptolemy of Egypt and Attalus of Pergamum were competing to acquire volumes for their libraries.[586] At that time, works were often tampered with to make them larger and thus fetch a higher price. Galen frequently mentions how alarmingly easy it is to alter numbers, signs, and other abbreviations in manuscripts.[587] A single stroke of a pen or a minor erasure can completely change the meaning of a medical prescription. He believes that some of these changes are intentional rather than just mistakes. They were so widespread that Menecrates wrote a medical work entirely in full words, titled Autocrator Hologrammatos, because it was also dedicated to the emperor. Another writer, Damocrates, from whom Galen often cites long sections, composed his book of remedies in verse to avoid any errors, even with full words.

Galen as a historical source.

Galen’s works contain occasional historical information concerning many other matters than books and drugs. Clinton in his Fasti Romani made much use of Galen for the chronology of the period in which he lived. His allusions to several of the emperors with whom he had personal relations are valuable bits of source-material. Trajan was, of course, before his time, but he testifies to the great improvement of the roads in Italy which that emperor had effected.[588] Galen sheds a little light on the vexed question[Pg 136] of the population of the empire, if Pergamum is the place he refers to in his estimate of forty thousand citizens or one hundred and twenty thousand inhabitants, including women and slaves but perhaps not children.[589]

Galen’s works include some historical information about topics beyond just books and medicines. Clinton made extensive use of Galen in his Fasti Romani for dating the period he lived in. His references to several emperors he interacted with are valuable source material. Trajan was, of course, before his time, but Galen notes the significant improvements to the roads in Italy that this emperor implemented.[588] Galen provides some insight into the complicated issue of the empire’s population, assuming Pergamum is the location he mentions in his estimate of forty thousand citizens or one hundred and twenty thousand inhabitants, including women and slaves but possibly excluding children.[589]

Ancient slavery.

Galen illustrates for us the evils of ancient slavery in an incident which he relates to show the inadvisability of giving way to one’s passions, especially anger.[590] Returning from Rome, Galen fell in with a traveler from Gortyna in Crete. When they reached Corinth, the Cretan sent his baggage and slaves from Cenchrea[591] to Athens by boat, but himself with a hired vehicle and two slaves went by land with Galen through Megara, Eleusis, and Thriasa. On the way the Cretan became so angry at the two slaves that he hit them with his sheathed sword so hard that the sheath broke and they were badly wounded. Fearing that they would die, he then made off to escape the consequences of his act, leaving Galen to look after the wounded. But later he rejoined Galen in penitent mood and insisted that Galen administer a beating to him for his cruelty. Galen adds that he himself, like his father, had never struck a slave with his own hand and had reproved friends who had broken their slaves’ teeth with blows of their fists. Others go farther and kick their slaves or gouge their eyes out. The emperor Hadrian in a moment of anger is said to have blinded a slave with a stylus which he had in his hand. He, too, was sorry afterwards and offered the slave money, but the latter refused it, telling the emperor that nothing could compensate him for the loss of an eye. In another passage Galen discusses how many slaves and “clothes” one really needs.[592]

Galen shows us the horrors of ancient slavery in an incident he shares to highlight the dangers of giving in to our emotions, especially anger. [590] After returning from Rome, Galen met a traveler from Gortyna in Crete. When they got to Corinth, the Cretan sent his luggage and slaves from Cenchrea [591] to Athens by boat, but he took a hired vehicle and traveled overland with Galen through Megara, Eleusis, and Thriasa, accompanied by two slaves. During the journey, the Cretan got so furious with the two slaves that he struck them with his sheathed sword so hard that the sheath broke, injuring them badly. Afraid they would die, he fled to escape the consequences of his actions, leaving Galen to take care of the wounded. Later, he returned to Galen, feeling remorseful, and insisted that Galen punish him for his cruelty. Galen notes that, like his father, he had never struck a slave himself and had criticized friends who had injured their slaves with punches. Others go even further, kicking their slaves or gouging out their eyes. It's said that Emperor Hadrian, in a fit of rage, blinded a slave with a stylus he had in hand. He felt sorry afterward and offered the slave money, but the slave refused, stating that nothing could make up for the loss of his eye. In another part, Galen talks about how many slaves and “clothes” a person really needs. [592]

[Pg 137]

[Pg 137]

Social life: food and wine.

Galen also depicts the easy-going, sociable, and pleasure-loving society of his time. Not only physicians but men generally begin the day with salutations and calls, then separate again, some to the market-place and law courts, others to watch the dancers or charioteers.[593] Others play at dice or pursue love affairs, or pass the hours at the baths or in eating and drinking or some other bodily pleasure. In the evening they all come together again at symposia which bear no resemblance to the intellectual feasts of Socrates and Plato but are mere drinking bouts. Galen had no objection, however, to the use of wine in moderation and mentions the varieties from different parts of the Mediterranean world which were especially noted for their medicinal properties.[594] He believed that drinking wine discreetly relieved the mind from all worry and melancholy and refreshed it. “For we use it every day.”[595] He affirmed that taken in moderation wine aided digestion and the blood.[596] He classed wine with such boons to humanity as medicines, “a sober and decent mode of life,” and “the study of literature and liberal disciplines.”[597] Galen’s treatise in three books on food values (De alimentorum facultatibus) supplies information concerning the ancient table and dietary science.

Galen also describes the laid-back, sociable, and pleasure-seeking culture of his time. Not just doctors, but people in general start their day with greetings and visits, then go their separate ways; some head to the marketplace and courthouses, while others go to watch dancers or charioteers. Some play dice, pursue romantic interests, or spend time at the baths, eating, drinking, or indulging in other physical pleasures. In the evening, they all gather again for symposia that are nothing like the intellectual discussions of Socrates and Plato but are simply drinking parties. Galen didn't mind the use of wine in moderation and noted the different varieties from across the Mediterranean known for their medicinal qualities. He believed that drinking wine in moderation eased the mind of worries and sadness, refreshing it. “For we use it every day.” He claimed that moderate wine consumption supported digestion and the blood. He regarded wine alongside other benefits to humanity like medicine, “a sober and decent mode of life,” and “the study of literature and liberal disciplines.” Galen’s three-book treatise on food values (De alimentorum facultatibus) provides insights into ancient dining and dietary science.

Allusions to Judaism and Christianity.

Galen’s allusions to Judaism and Christianity are of considerable interest. He scarcely seems to have distinguished between them. In two passages in his treatise on differences in the pulse he makes incidental allusion to the followers of Moses and Christ, in both cases speaking of them rather lightly, not to say contemptuously. In criticizing Archigenes for using vague and unintelligible language and not giving a sufficient explanation of the point in question, Galen says that it is “as if one had come to a school of[Pg 138] Moses and Christ and had heard undemonstrated laws.”[598] And in criticizing opposing sects for their obstinacy he remarks that it would be easier to win over the followers of Moses and Christ.[599] Later we shall speak more fully of a third passage in De usu partium[600] where Galen criticizes the Mosaic view of the relation of God to nature, representing it as the opposite extreme to the Epicurean doctrine of a purely mechanistic and materialistic universe. This suggests that Galen had read some of the Old Testament, but he might have learned from other sources of the Dead Sea and of salts of Sodom, of which he speaks in yet another context.[601] According to a thirteenth century Arabian biographer of Galen, he spoke more favorably of Christians in a lost commentary upon Plato’s Republic, admiring their morals and admitting their miracles.[602] This last, as we shall see, is unlikely, since Galen believed in a supreme Being who worked only through natural law. “A confection of Ioachos, the martyr or metropolitan,” and “A remedy for headache of the monk Barlama” occur in the third book of the De remediis parabilibus ascribed to Galen, but this third book is greatly interpolated or entirely spurious, citing Galen himself as well as Alexander of Tralles, the sixth century writer, and mentioning the Saracens. Wellmann regards it as composed between the seventh and eleventh centuries of our era.[603]

Galen’s references to Judaism and Christianity are quite intriguing. He hardly seems to have made a distinction between the two. In two sections of his work on the differences in pulse, he makes offhand references to the followers of Moses and Christ, treating both with a somewhat dismissive attitude. While criticizing Archigenes for using vague and unclear language and failing to adequately explain the matter at hand, Galen suggests it’s “as if someone had walked into a school of[Pg 138] Moses and Christ and had heard unproven laws.”[598] In critiquing various sects for their stubbornness, he notes that it would be easier to persuade the followers of Moses and Christ.[599] Later, we’ll discuss in more detail a third passage in De usu partium[600] where Galen critiques the Mosaic perspective on the relationship between God and nature, portraying it as the complete opposite of the Epicurean belief in a purely mechanical and material universe. This implies that Galen had read some of the Old Testament, but he might have also learned from other sources about the Dead Sea and the salts of Sodom, which he mentions in another context.[601] A thirteenth-century Arabian biographer of Galen claims he spoke more positively about Christians in a lost commentary on Plato’s Republic, praising their morals and acknowledging their miracles.[602] However, this seems unlikely, as Galen believed in a supreme Being that operated solely through natural law. “A remedy from Ioachos, the martyr or metropolitan,” and “A cure for headache from the monk Barlama” appear in the third book of the De remediis parabilibus attributed to Galen, but this third book is heavily altered or possibly entirely forged, referencing Galen as well as Alexander of Tralles, a sixth-century writer, and mentioning the Saracens. Wellmann considers it to have been composed between the seventh and eleventh centuries of our era.[603]

Galen’s monotheism.

Like most thoughtful men of his time, Galen tended to believe in one supreme deity, but he appears to have derived[Pg 139] this conception from Greek rather than Hebraic sources. It was to philosophy and the Greek mysteries that he turned for revelation of the deity, as we shall see. Hopeless criminals were for him those whom neither the Muses nor Socrates could reform.[604] It is Plato, not Christ, whom in another treatise he cites as describing the first and greatest God as ungenerated and good. “And we all naturally love Him, being such as He is from eternity.”[605]

Like most thoughtful people of his time, Galen believed in one supreme deity, but it seems he got this idea more from Greek sources than from Hebrew ones. He looked to philosophy and Greek mysteries for understanding of the deity, as we will discuss. In his view, hopeless criminals were those whom neither the Muses nor Socrates could redeem. It’s Plato, not Christ, whom he references in another work, describing the first and greatest God as uncreated and good. “And we all naturally love Him, for He has always been as He is.”

Galen’s Christian readers.

But while Galen’s monotheism cannot be regarded as of Christian or Jewish origin, it is possible that his argument from design and supporting theology by anatomy made him more acceptable to both Mohammedan and Christian readers. At any rate he had Christian readers at Rome at the opening of the third century, when a hostile controversialist complains that some of them even worship Galen.[606] These early Christian enthusiasts for natural science, who also devoted much time to Aristotle and Euclid, were finally excommunicated; but Aristotle, Euclid, and Galen were to return in triumph in medieval learning.

But even though Galen's belief in one God isn't really from Christian or Jewish roots, his arguments about design and the way he backed up his theology with anatomy might have made him more appealing to both Muslim and Christian readers. At least, he had Christian followers in Rome at the start of the third century, when a critic complained that some of them even worshipped Galen. These early Christian fans of natural science, who also spent a lot of time studying Aristotle and Euclid, were ultimately excommunicated; however, Aristotle, Euclid, and Galen would make a strong comeback in medieval education.

II. His Medicine and Experimental Science

Four elements and four qualities.

Galen held as his fundamental theory of nature the view which was to prevail through the middle ages, that all natural objects upon this globe are composed of four elements, earth, air, fire, and water,[607] and the cognate view, which he says Hippocrates first introduced and Aristotle later demonstrated, that all natural objects are characterized by four qualities, hot, cold, dry, and moist. From the combinations of these four are produced various secondary qualities.[608] Neither hypothesis was as yet universally accepted, however, and Galen felt it incumbent upon him to argue against those[Pg 140] who contended that the human body and world of nature were made from but one element.[609] There were others who ridiculed the four quality hypothesis, saying that hot and cold were words for bath-keepers, not for physicians to deal with.[610] Galen explains that philosophers do not regard any particular variety of earth or any other mineral substance as representing the pure element earth, which in the philosophical sense is an extremely cold and dry substance to which adamant and rocks make perhaps the closest approach. But the earths that we see are all compound bodies.[611]

Galen's fundamental theory of nature was that all natural objects on Earth are made up of four elements: earth, air, fire, and water, and the related idea, which he claims Hippocrates first introduced and Aristotle later proved, that all natural objects have four qualities: hot, cold, dry, and moist. From the combinations of these four, various secondary qualities arise. However, neither hypothesis was widely accepted yet, and Galen felt it was his duty to argue against those who believed the human body and the natural world were made from just one element. Others mocked the four quality theory, saying that 'hot' and 'cold' were terms for bath attendants, not for doctors to use. Galen clarifies that philosophers don't consider any specific type of earth or other mineral substance as the pure element of earth, which, in a philosophical sense, is a very cold and dry substance, with adamant and rocks coming closest. But the types of earth we see are all compound bodies.

Criticism of atomism.

Galen rejected the atomism of Democritus and Epicurus, in which the atoms were indivisible particles differing in shape and size, but not differing in quality as chemical atoms are supposed to do. He credits Democritus with the view that such qualities as color and taste are sensed by us from the concourse of atoms, but do not reside in the atoms themselves.[612] Galen also makes the criticism that the mere regrouping of “impassive and immutable” atoms is not enough to account for the new properties of the compound, which are often very different from those of the constituents, as when “we alter the qualities of medicines in artificial mixtures.”[613] Thus he virtually says that the purely physical atomism of Democritus will not account for what to-day we call chemical change. He also, as we shall see, rejected Epicurus’ theory of a world of nature ruled by blind chance.

Galen rejected the atomism of Democritus and Epicurus, which described atoms as indivisible particles that vary in shape and size but not in quality like chemical atoms are thought to. He acknowledges Democritus's belief that qualities such as color and taste are perceived by us due to the interaction of atoms, but do not exist in the atoms themselves. [612] Galen also criticizes the idea that simply rearranging "impassive and immutable" atoms can explain the new properties of a compound, which are often very different from those of the individual parts, as seen when "we change the qualities of medicines in artificial mixtures." [613] Therefore, he essentially argues that Democritus's purely physical atomism fails to explain what we now call chemical change. He also rejected Epicurus’s idea of a natural world governed by random chance, as we will see.

Application of the theory of four qualities in medicine.

Galen of course thought that a dry medicine was good for a moist disease, and that in a compound medicine, by mixing a very cold with a slightly cold drug in varying proportions a medicine of any desired degree of coldness might be obtained.[614] In general he regarded solids like stones and metals as dry and cold, while he thought that hot and moist objects tended to evaporate rapidly into air.[615] So he declared that dryness of solid bodies was incurable, while he believed that children’s bodies were more easily dissolved[Pg 141] than adults’ because moister and warmer.[616] The Stoics and many physicians believed that heat prolonged life, but Asclepiades pointed out that the Ethiopians are old at thirty because the hot sun dries up their bodies so, while the inhabitants of Britain sometimes live to be one hundred and twenty years old. This last, however, was regarded as probably due to the fact that their thicker skins conserved their innate heat longer.[617]

Galen thought that a dry medicine was effective for a moist illness, and that by mixing a very cold drug with a slightly cold one in different amounts, a medicine with any desired level of coldness could be created.[614] He generally viewed solids like stones and metals as dry and cold, while he believed that hot and moist things tended to evaporate quickly into air.[615] He argued that the dryness of solid substances was incurable, while he thought that children's bodies were easier to dissolve[Pg 141] than those of adults because they were moister and warmer.[616] The Stoics and many doctors believed that heat extended life, but Asclepiades noted that Ethiopians age by thirty due to the hot sun drying out their bodies, while people in Britain sometimes live to be one hundred and twenty years old. However, this last point was likely attributed to their thicker skin retaining their natural heat for a longer time.[617]

Galen’s therapeutics obsolete.

As an offset to the evidence which will be presented later of the traces of occult virtues, magic, and astrology in Galen’s therapeutics I should like to be able to indicate the good points in it. But his entire system, like the four quality theory upon which it is largely based, seems now obsolete, and what evidenced his superiority to other physicians in his own day would probably strike the modern reader only as a token of his distinct inferiority to present practice. Eighty odd years of modern medical progress since have added further emphasis to Daremberg’s declaration that we have had to throw overboard “much of his physiology, nearly all of his pathology and general therapeutics.”[618]

As a counter to the evidence that will be presented later regarding the traces of mystical qualities, magic, and astrology in Galen's treatments, I’d like to highlight the positive aspects of his work. However, his entire system, much like the four quality theory it relies on, seems outdated now, and what showed his superiority over other physicians in his time would likely appear to the modern reader as a sign of his clear inferiority to today’s practices. Over eighty years of advancements in modern medicine have only underscored Daremberg’s statement that we’ve had to discard “much of his physiology, nearly all of his pathology, and general therapeutics.”[618]

Some of his medical notions.

Nevertheless, we may note a few specimens which perhaps represent his ordinary theory and practice as distinguished from passages in which the influence of magic enters. He holds that bleeding and cold drink are the two chief remedies for fever.[619] He notes that children occasionally resemble their grandparents rather than their parents.[620] He disputes the assertion of Epicurus—one by which some of his followers failed to be guided—that there is no benefit to health in Aphrodite, and contends that at certain intervals and in certain individuals and circumstances sexual intercourse is beneficial.[621] His discussion of anodynes and stupor or sleep-producing medicines shows that the ancients had anaesthetics of a sort.[622] He recognized the importance[Pg 142] of breathing plenty of fresh, invigorating, and unpolluted air, free from any intermixture of impurity from mines, pits, or ovens, or of putridity from decaying vegetable or animal matter, or of noxious vapors from stagnant water, swamps, and rivers.[623] As was usual in ancient and medieval times, he attributes plagues to the corruption of the air, which poisons men breathing it, and tells how Hippocrates tried to allay a plague at Athens by purifying the air by fumigation with fires, odors, and unguents.[624]

However, we can identify a few examples that likely represent his standard theory and practice, separate from instances where magic influences his views. He believes that bleeding and cold drinks are the two main remedies for fever. [619] He observes that children sometimes take after their grandparents instead of their parents. [620] He challenges Epicurus's claim—one that some of his followers disregarded—that there is no health benefit in Aphrodite, arguing that at certain times, and for certain people and situations, sexual intercourse can be beneficial. [621] His analysis of pain relief and sleep-inducing medicines indicates that the ancients had forms of anesthetics. [622] He acknowledged the significance of breathing in lots of fresh, invigorating, and clean air, free from any pollutants from mines, pits, or ovens, as well as from decaying plants or animals, or harmful fumes from stagnant water, swamps, and rivers. [623] As was common in ancient and medieval times, he attributes plagues to the corruption of the air, which poisons those who breathe it, and recounts how Hippocrates attempted to reduce a plague in Athens by purifying the air through fumigation with smoke, scents, and ointments. [624]

Two of Galen’s cases.

Two specimens may be given of Galen’s accounts of his own cases. In the first, some cheese, which he had told his servants to take away as too sharp, when mixed with boiled salt pork and applied to the joints, proved very helpful to a gouty patient and to several others whom he induced to try it.[625] In the second case Galen administered the following heroic treatment to a woman at Rome who was afflicted with catarrh to the point of throwing up blood.[626] He did not deem it wise to bleed her, since for four days past she had gone almost without food. Instead he ordered a sharp clyster, rubbed and bound her hands and feet with a hot drug, shaved her head and put on it a medicament made of doves’ dung. After three hours she was bathed, care being taken that nothing oily touched her head, which was then covered up. At first he fed her only gruel, afterwards some bitter autumn fruit, and as she was about to go to sleep he administered a medicament made from vipers four months before. On the second day came more rubbing and binding except the head, and at evening a somewhat smaller dose of the viper remedy. Again she slept well and in the morning he gave her a large dose of cooked honey. Again her body was well rubbed and she was given barley water and a little bread to eat. On the fourth day an older and therefore stronger variety of viper-remedy was administered and her head was covered with the same medicament as before. Its properties, Galen explains, are vehemently drying and heat[Pg 143]ing. Again she was given a bath and a little food. On the fifth day Galen ventured to purge her lungs, but he returned at intervals to the imposition upon her head. Meanwhile he continued the process of rubbing, bathing, and dieting, until finally the patient was well again,—a truly remarkable cure!

Two examples illustrate Galen's accounts of his own cases. In the first, some cheese that he had asked his servants to remove for being too sharp, when mixed with boiled salt pork and applied to the joints, turned out to be very beneficial for a patient with gout and several others he encouraged to try it.[625] In the second case, Galen provided a strong treatment for a woman in Rome suffering from catarrh to the extent of vomiting blood.[626] He decided it wouldn’t be wise to bleed her since she had barely eaten for the last four days. Instead, he prescribed a strong enema, rubbed and wrapped her hands and feet with a hot substance, shaved her head, and applied a remedy made from doves’ dung to it. After three hours, she was bathed, ensuring nothing oily touched her head, which he then covered. Initially, he only fed her gruel, then some bitter autumn fruit, and before she went to sleep, he gave her a remedy made from vipers that had been prepared four months earlier. On the second day, more rubbing and binding occurred, except for her head, and in the evening, a slightly smaller dose of the viper remedy was given. She slept well again, and in the morning, he provided a large dose of cooked honey. Once more, her body was well rubbed, and she was given barley water and a bit of bread to eat. On the fourth day, a stronger version of the viper remedy was given, and her head was treated with the same ointment as before. Galen explains its properties as intensely drying and heating. She was bathed again and given a little food. On the fifth day, Galen decided to purge her lungs, but he kept returning to apply the treatment on her head. Throughout this time, he continued the rubbing, bathing, and diet adjustments until finally, the patient recovered—a truly remarkable cure!

His power of rapid observation and inference.

These two cases, however, do not give us a just comprehension of Galen’s abilities at their best. In his medical practice he could be as quick and comprehensive an observer and as shrewd in drawing inferences from what he observed as the famous Sherlock Holmes, so that some of his slower-witted contemporaries accused him of possessing the gift of divination. His immediate diagnosis of the case of the Sicilian physician by noting as he entered the house the excrements in a vessel which a servant was carrying out to the dungheap, and as he entered the sick-room a medicine set on the window-sill which the patient-physician had been preparing for himself, amazed the patient and the philosopher Glaucon[627] more than, let us hope in this case in view of his profession, they would have amazed the estimable Dr. Watson.

These two cases, however, don’t give us a true understanding of Galen’s abilities at their peak. In his medical practice, he could be as quick and thorough an observer and as sharp in making conclusions from his observations as the famous Sherlock Holmes, so much so that some of his less sharp-minded contemporaries accused him of having a gift for divination. His immediate diagnosis of the Sicilian physician's case, simply by noticing the waste in a container that a servant was carrying out to the dung heap when he entered the house, and seeing a medicine on the window sill that the patient-physician had been preparing for himself when he stepped into the sickroom, astonished the patient and the philosopher Glaucon[627] more than, let’s hope, in this instance and given his profession, they would have astonished the commendable Dr. Watson.

His happy guesses.

Puschmann has pointed out that Galen employs certain expressions which seem happy guesses at later discoveries. He writes: “Galen was supported in his researches by an extremely happy imaginative faculty which put the proper word in his mouth even in cases where he could not possibly arrive at a full understanding of the matter,—where he could only conjecture the truth. When, for instance, he declares that sound is carried ‘like a wave’ (Kühn, III, 644), or expresses the conjecture that the constituent of the atmosphere which is important for breathing also acts by burning (IV, 687), he expresses thoughts which startle us, for it was only possible nearly two thousand years later to understand their full significance.”[628]

Puschmann noted that Galen uses certain phrases that seem like lucky guesses at later findings. He writes: “Galen was aided in his research by a remarkably imaginative ability that provided him with the right words even in situations where he couldn't fully grasp the concept—where he could only speculate the truth. For example, when he states that sound travels ‘like a wave’ (Kühn, III, 644), or suggests that the component in the atmosphere essential for breathing also functions by burning (IV, 687), he shares ideas that surprise us, as it wasn’t until nearly two thousand years later that their full importance could be understood.”[628]

[Pg 144]

[Pg 144]

Tendency towards scientific measurement.

Galen was keenly alive to the need of exactness in weights and measurements. He often criticizes past writers for not stating precisely what ailment the medicament recommended is good for, and in what proportions the ingredients are to be mixed. He also frequently complains because they do not specify whether they are using the Greek or Roman system of weights, or the Attic, Alexandrine, or Ephesian variety of a certain measure.[629] Moreover, he saw the desirability of more accurate means of measuring the passage of time.[630] When he states that even some illustrious physicians of his acquaintance mistake the speed of the pulse and are unable to tell whether it is slow, fast, or normal, we begin to realize something of the difficulties under which medical practice and any sort of experimentation labored before watches were invented, and how much depended upon the accuracy of human machinery and judgment. Yet Galen estimates that the chief progress made in medical prognostication since Hippocrates is the gradual development of the art of inferring from the pulse.[631] Galen tried to improve the time-pieces in use in his age. He states that in any city the inhabitants want to know the time of day accurately, not merely conjecturally; and he gives directions how to divide the day into twelve hours by a combination of a sun-dial and a clepsydra, and how on the water clock to mark the duration of the longest, shortest, and equinoctial days of the year.[632]

Galen was very aware of the importance of precision in weights and measurements. He often criticizes earlier writers for not clearly stating what conditions the recommended treatments are effective for, and in what proportions the ingredients should be mixed. He also frequently points out that they fail to specify whether they're using the Greek or Roman system of weights, or the Attic, Alexandrine, or Ephesian types of certain measures.[629] Furthermore, he understood the necessity for more accurate ways to measure the passage of time.[630] When he notes that even some well-known physicians he knows misjudge the speed of the pulse and can't determine whether it's slow, fast, or normal, we begin to grasp the challenges faced in medical practice and experimentation before watches existed, and how much relied on the precision of human observation and judgment. Yet Galen believes that the main advancement in medical prediction since Hippocrates is the gradual improvement in the skill of analyzing the pulse.[631] Galen sought to enhance the timepieces used in his time. He argues that in any city, the residents want to know the exact time of day, not just make educated guesses; and he provides instructions on how to divide the day into twelve hours using a combination of a sundial and a clepsydra, and how to mark the duration of the longest, shortest, and equinox days of the year on the water clock.[632]

Psychological tests with the pulse.

Delicate and difficult as was the task of measuring the pulse in Galen’s time, he was clever enough to anticipate by seventeen centuries some of the tests which modern psychologists have urged should be applied in criminal trials. He detected the fact that a female patient was not ill but in love by the quickening of her pulse when someone came in from the theater and announced that he had just seen Py[Pg 145]lades dance. When she came again the next day, Galen had purposely arranged that someone should enter and say that he had seen Morphus dancing. This and a similar test on the third day produced no perceptible quickening in the woman’s pulse. But it bounded again when on the fourth day Pylades’ name was again spoken. After recounting another analogous incident where he had been able to read the patient’s mind, Galen asks why former physicians have never availed themselves of these methods. He thinks that they must have had no conception of how the bodily health in general and the pulse in particular can be affected by the “psyche’s” suffering.[633] We might then call Galen the first experimental psychologist as well as the first to elaborate the physiology of the nervous system.

Delicate and challenging as it was to measure the pulse in Galen's time, he was smart enough to anticipate, seventeen centuries ahead of his time, some of the tests that modern psychologists have suggested should be used in criminal trials. He noticed that a female patient wasn't actually ill but in love when her pulse quickened upon hearing someone come in from the theater to announce that they had just seen Pylades dance. When she returned the next day, Galen had arranged for someone to come in and say they had seen Morphus dancing. This, along with a similar test on the third day, showed no noticeable change in her pulse. However, her pulse heightened again when Pylades' name was mentioned on the fourth day. After sharing another similar incident where he could interpret the patient's feelings, Galen questioned why previous physicians never used these methods. He believed they must have lacked an understanding of how overall health, especially pulse, can be influenced by the suffering of the "psyche." We could then consider Galen the first experimental psychologist and the pioneer in detailing the physiology of the nervous system.

Galen’s anatomy and physiology.

It would scarcely be fair to discuss Galen’s science at all without saying something of his remarkable work in anatomy and physiology. Daremberg went so far as to hold that all there is good or bad in his writings comes from good or bad physiology, and regarded his discussion of the bones and muscles as especially good.[634] He is generally considered the greatest anatomist of antiquity, but it is barely possible that he may have owed more to predecessors and contemporaries and less to personal research than is apparent from his own writings, which are the most complete anatomical treatises that have reached us from antiquity. Herophilus, for example, who was born at Chalcedon in the closing fourth century B. C. and flourished at Alexandria under the first Ptolemy, discovered the nerves and distinguished them from the sinews, and thought the brain the center of the nervous system, so that it is perhaps questionable whether Payne is justified in calling Galen “the founder of the physiology of the nervous system,” and in declaring that[Pg 146] “in physiological diagnosis he stands alone among the ancients.”[635] However, if Galen owed something to Herophilus, we owe much of our knowledge of the earlier physiologist to Galen.[636]

It wouldn't be fair to talk about Galen’s science without mentioning his impressive work in anatomy and physiology. Daremberg went as far as to say that everything good or bad in his writings comes from good or bad physiology, considering his discussions of bones and muscles to be particularly strong. He is generally seen as the greatest anatomist of ancient times, but it's likely he relied more on the work of those who came before him and his peers, and less on his own research, than his writings suggest. These are the most thorough anatomical treatises we have from ancient times. For instance, Herophilus, who was born in Chalcedon in the late fourth century B.C. and thrived in Alexandria under the first Ptolemy, discovered nerves and recognized them as distinct from tendons, thinking the brain was the center of the nervous system. So, it’s questionable whether Payne is right in calling Galen “the founder of the physiology of the nervous system” and claiming that “in physiological diagnosis he stands alone among the ancients.” However, while Galen may have taken some inspiration from Herophilus, we owe much of our knowledge of the earlier physiologist to Galen.

Experiments in dissection.

Aristotle had held that the heart was the seat of the sensitive soul[637] and the source of nervous action, “while the brain was of secondary importance, being the coldest part of the body, devoid of blood, and having for its chief or only function to cool the heart.” Galen attacked this theory by showing experimentally that “all the nerves originated in the brain, either directly or by means of the spinal cord, which he thought to be a conducting organ merely, not a center.” “A thousand times,” he says, “I have demonstrated by dissection that the cords in the heart called nerves by Aristotle are not nerves and have no connection with nerves.” He found that sensation and movement were stopped and even the voice and breathing were affected by injuries to the brain, and that an injury to one side of the brain affected the opposite side of the body. His public demonstration by dissection, performed in the presence of various philosophers and medical men, of the connection between the brain and voice and respiration and the commentaries which he immediately afterwards dictated on this point were so convincing, he tells us fifteen years later, that no one has ventured openly to dispute them.[638] His “experimental investigation of the spinal cord by sections at different levels and by half sections was still more remarkable.”[639] Galen opposed these experimental proofs to such unscientific arguments on the part of the Stoic philosopher, Chrysippus, and others, as that the heart must be the chief organ because it is in the center of the body, or because one lays[Pg 147] one’s hand on one’s heart to indicate oneself, or because the lips are moved in a certain way in saying “I” (ἐγώ).[640] Another noteworthy experiment by Galen was that in which, by binding up a section of the femoral artery he proved that the arteries contain blood and not air or spiritus as had been generally supposed.[641] He failed, however, to perform any experiments with the pulmonary veins, and so the notion persisted that these conveyed “spirit” and not blood from the lungs to the heart.[642]

Aristotle believed that the heart was the center of the sensitive soul and the source of nerve activity, while he thought the brain was less important, being the coldest part of the body, lacking blood, and primarily serving to cool the heart. Galen challenged this idea by showing through experiments that all nerves come from the brain, either directly or through the spinal cord, which he considered just a relay, not a center. “A thousand times,” he stated, “I have demonstrated through dissection that the structures in the heart that Aristotle called nerves are not actually nerves and have no connection to them.” He discovered that sensation and movement could stop, and even voice and breathing were affected by brain injuries, noting that damage to one side of the brain impacted the opposite side of the body. His public dissections, conducted in front of various philosophers and medical professionals, demonstrated the link between the brain and functions like voice and respiration, and the commentaries he gave right after were so compelling that, he claimed fifteen years later, no one dared to dispute them. His “experimental investigation of the spinal cord through different section levels and half-sections was even more impressive.” Galen contrasted these experimental findings with unscientific arguments from Stoic philosophers like Chrysippus, who claimed the heart must be the main organ because it is at the body's center, or because someone places a hand on their heart to refer to themselves, or because the lips move a certain way when saying “I” (ἐγώ). Another significant experiment by Galen involved tying off a section of the femoral artery to prove that arteries contain blood, not air or spirit as commonly believed. However, he did not conduct any experiments on the pulmonary veins, so the idea continued that they carried “spirit” rather than blood from the lungs to the heart.

Did Galen ever dissect human bodies?

It has usually been stated that Galen never dissected the human body and that his inferences by analogy from his dissection of animals involved him in serious error concerning human anatomy and physiology. Certainly he speaks as if opportunities to secure human cadavers or even skeletons were rare.[643] He mentions, however, the possibility of obtaining the bodies of criminals condemned to death or cast to beasts in the arena, or the corpses of robbers which lie unburied in the mountains, or the bodies of infants exposed by their parents.[644] It is not sufficient, he states in another passage,[645] to read books about human bones; one should have them before one’s eyes. Alexandria is the best place for the student to go to see actual exhibitions of this sort made by the teachers.[646] But even if one cannot go there, one may be able to procure human bones for oneself, as Galen did from a skeleton which had[Pg 148] been washed out of a grave by a flooded stream and from the corpse of a robber slain in the mountains. If one cannot get to see a human skeleton by these means or some other, he should dissect monkeys and apes.

It’s often said that Galen never dissected a human body and that his conclusions drawn from dissecting animals led him to significant mistakes about human anatomy and physiology. He certainly talks as if chances to get human cadavers or even skeletons were uncommon. He does mention, though, the possibility of obtaining the bodies of criminals sentenced to death or fed to wild animals in the arena, or the corpses of thieves left unburied in the mountains, or the bodies of infants abandoned by their parents. He emphasizes in another passage that just reading about human bones isn't enough; one needs to see them in person. Alexandria is the best place for students to go to witness actual demonstrations like this organized by the teachers. But even if someone can't travel there, they might still be able to get human bones, just like Galen did from a skeleton washed out of a grave by a flood and from the body of a robber killed in the mountains. If one can’t find a way to see a human skeleton through these means or others, they should dissect monkeys and apes.

Dissection of animals.

Indeed Galen advises the student to dissect apes in any case, in order to prepare himself for intelligent dissection of the human body, should he ever have the opportunity. From lack of such previous experience the doctors with the army of Marcus Aurelius, who dissected the body of a dead German, learned nothing except the position of the entrails. Galen at any rate dissected a great many animals. Tiny animals and insects he let alone, for the microscope was not yet discovered, but besides apes and quadrupeds he cut up many reptiles, mice, weasels, birds, and fish.[647] He also gives an amusing account of the medical men at Rome gathering to observe the dissection of an elephant in order to discover whether the heart had one or two vertices and two or three ventricles. Galen assured them beforehand that it would be found similar to the heart of any other breathing animal. This particular dissection was not, however, performed exclusively in the interests of science, since it was scarcely accomplished when the heart was carried off, not to a scientific museum, but by the imperial cooks to their master’s table.[648] Galen sometimes dissected animals the moment he killed them. Thus he observed that the lungs always sensibly shrank from the diaphragm in a dying animal, whether he killed it by suffocation in water, or strangling with a noose, or severing the spinal medulla near the first vertebrae, or cutting the large arteries or veins.[649]

Indeed, Galen advises students to dissect apes in any case to prepare themselves for the intelligent dissection of the human body should the opportunity arise. Because they lacked this previous experience, the doctors with the army of Marcus Aurelius, who dissected the body of a dead German, learned nothing except the position of the entrails. Galen, on the other hand, dissected a lot of animals. He didn't touch tiny animals and insects since the microscope hadn't been invented yet, but besides apes and four-legged animals, he also cut up many reptiles, mice, weasels, birds, and fish.[647] He also shares a funny account of the doctors in Rome gathering to watch the dissection of an elephant to find out whether its heart had one or two points and two or three chambers. Galen warned them in advance that it would be similar to the heart of any other breathing animal. However, this particular dissection wasn't done solely for scientific purposes, since it was hardly finished when the heart was taken away, not to a scientific museum, but by the imperial cooks to their master's table.[648] Galen sometimes dissected animals right after killing them. He noticed that the lungs always noticeably shrank away from the diaphragm in a dying animal, whether he killed it by drowning, strangling it with a noose, severing the spinal cord near the first vertebrae, or cutting the large arteries or veins.[649]

Surgical operations.

Surgical operations and medical practice were a third way of learning the human anatomy, and Galen complains of the carelessness of those physicians and surgeons who do not take pains to observe it before performing an operation or cure. He himself had had one case where the[Pg 149] human heart was laid bare and yet the patient recovered.[650] As a young practitioner before he came to Rome Galen worked out so successful a method of treating wounds of the sinews that the care of the health of the gladiators in his native city of Pergamum was entrusted to him by several successive pontifices[651] and he hardly lost a life. In the same passage he again speaks contemptuously of the doctors in the war with the Germans who were allowed to cut open the bodies of the barbarians but learned no more thereby than a cook would. When Galen came from Pergamum to Rome he found the professions of physicians and surgeons distinct and left cases to the latter which he before had attended to himself.[652] We may note finally that he invented a new form of surgical knife.[653]

Surgical operations and medical practice were another way to learn about human anatomy, and Galen criticized the carelessness of physicians and surgeons who neglect to observe it before performing an operation or treatment. He once had a situation where the[Pg 149] human heart was exposed, yet the patient recovered. [650] As a young practitioner before arriving in Rome, Galen developed such an effective method for treating wounds to the tendons that several successive pontiffs entrusted him with the care of gladiators in his hometown of Pergamum, and he hardly lost a single life. In the same context, he again dismissively commented on the doctors in the war with the Germans who were allowed to dissect the bodies of the barbarians but learned no more than a cook would. When Galen moved from Pergamum to Rome, he found that the roles of physicians and surgeons were separate and handed over cases he previously handled himself to the latter. [652] Lastly, we should note that he invented a new type of surgical knife. [653]

Galen’s argument from design.

In Galen’s opinion the study of anatomy was important for the philosopher as well as for the physician. An understanding of the use of the parts of the body is helpful to the doctor, he says, but much more so to “the philosopher of medicine who strives to obtain knowledge of all nature.”[654] In the De usu partium[655] he came to the conclusion that in the structure of any animal we have the mark of a wise workman or demiurge, and of a celestial mind; and that “the investigation of the use of the parts of the body lays the foundation of a truly scientific theology which is much greater and more precious than all medicine,” and which reveals the divinity more clearly than even the Eleusinian mysteries or Samothracian orgies. Thus Galen adopts the argument from design for the existence of God. The modern doctrine of evolution is of course subversive of his premise that the parts of the body are so well constructed for and marvelously adapted to their functions that nothing better is possible, and consequently of his conclusion that this necessitates a divine maker and planner.

In Galen's view, studying anatomy was essential for both philosophers and physicians. He argues that while it's helpful for doctors to understand how the parts of the body work, it's even more important for “the philosopher of medicine who seeks to gain knowledge of all nature.”[654] In the De usu partium[655], he concluded that the design of any animal reflects the skill of a wise creator or demiurge and a divine mind. He believed that “investigating the functions of body parts lays the groundwork for a truly scientific theology, which is far greater and more valuable than all medicine,” and reveals divine nature more clearly than the Eleusinian mysteries or Samothracian rituals. Thus, Galen uses the argument from design to support the existence of God. The modern theory of evolution, however, challenges his assertion that body parts are so well designed for their functions that nothing better could exist, and therefore undermines his conclusion that a divine creator and planner is necessary.

[Pg 150]

[Pg 150]

In the treatise De foetuum formatione Galen displays a similar inclination but more tentatively and timidly. He thinks that the human body attests the wisdom and power of its maker,[656] whom he wishes the philosophers would reveal to him more clearly and tell him “whether he is some wise and powerful god.”[657] The process of the formation of the child in the womb, the complex human muscular system, the human tongue alone, seem to him so wonderful that he will not subscribe to the Epicurean denial of any all-ruling providence.[658] He thinks that nature alone cannot show such wisdom. He has, however, sought vainly from philosopher after philosopher for a satisfactory demonstration of the existence of God, and is by no means certain himself.[659]

In the treatise De foetuum formatione, Galen shows a similar tendency but in a more cautious and hesitant way. He believes that the human body reveals the wisdom and power of its creator, [656] and wishes that philosophers would explain this to him more clearly and tell him “whether he is some wise and powerful god.” [657] The process of forming a child in the womb, the intricate human muscular system, and even the human tongue alone seem so amazing to him that he cannot agree with the Epicurean claim that there is no all-powerful providence. [658] He believes that nature alone cannot demonstrate such wisdom. However, he has searched in vain through many philosophers for a convincing proof of God's existence and is by no means certain himself. [659]

Queries concerning the soul.

Galen is also at a loss concerning the existence and substance of the soul. He points out that puppies try to bite before their teeth come and that calves try to hook before their horns grow, as if the soul knew the use of these parts beforehand. It might be argued that the soul itself causes the parts to grow,[660] but Galen questions this, nor is he ready to accept the Platonic world-soul theory of a divine force permeating all nature.[661] It offends his instinctive piety and sense of fitness to think of the world-soul in such things as reptiles, vermin, and putrefying corpses. On the other hand, he disagrees with those who deny any innate knowledge or standards to the soul and attribute everything to sense perception and certain imaginations and memories based thereon. Some even deny the existence of the reasoning faculty, he says, and affirm that we are led by the affections of the senses like cattle. For these men courage, prudence, temperance, continence are mere names.[662]

Galen is also confused about the existence and nature of the soul. He observes that puppies try to bite before their teeth come in and that calves try to hook before their horns grow, as if the soul knew the purpose of these parts ahead of time. One might argue that the soul itself causes the parts to develop, [660] but Galen questions this and isn’t willing to accept the Platonic world-soul theory of a divine force that permeates all of nature. [661] It goes against his instinctive piety and sense of appropriateness to think of the world-soul in relation to creatures like reptiles, vermin, and decaying bodies. On the other hand, he disagrees with those who deny any innate knowledge or standards to the soul and attribute everything to sensory perception and certain imaginations and memories based on that. Some even deny the existence of reasoning, he argues, claiming that we are guided solely by our sensory desires like cattle. For these people, courage, prudence, temperance, and self-control are just empty terms. [662]

No supernatural force in medicine.

In commenting upon the works of Hippocrates, Galen insists that in speaking of “something divine” in diseases[Pg 151] Hippocrates could not have meant supernatural influence, which he never admits into medicine in other passages. Galen tries to explain away the expression as having reference to the effect of the surrounding air.[663] Thus while Galen might look upon nature or certain things in nature as a divine work, he would not admit any supernatural force in science or medicine, or anything bordering upon special providence. In the De usu partium Galen states that he agrees with Moses that “the beginning of genesis in all things generated” was “from the demiurge,” but that he does not agree with him that anything is possible with God and that God can suddenly turn a stone into a man or make a horse or cow from ashes. “In this matter our opinion and that of Plato and of others among the Greeks who have written correctly concerning natural science differs from the view of Moses.” In Galen’s view God attempts nothing contrary to nature but of all possible natural courses invariably chooses the best. Thus Galen expresses his admiration at nature’s providence in keeping the eyebrows and eyelashes of the same length and not letting them grow long like the beard or hair, but this is because a harder cartilaginous flesh is provided for them to grow in, and the mere will of God would not keep hairs from growing in soft flesh. If God had not provided the cartilaginous substance for the eyelashes, “he would have been more careless, not merely than Moses but than a worthless general who builds a wall in a swamp.”[664] As between the views on God of Moses and Epicurus, Galen prefers to steer a middle course.

In commenting on Hippocrates' works, Galen emphasizes that when Hippocrates refers to “something divine” in diseases[Pg 151], he cannot be talking about supernatural influence, which Hippocrates never acknowledges in other parts of his writings. Galen attempts to interpret this expression as referring to the effects of the surrounding air. [663] Therefore, while Galen may see nature or certain aspects of nature as a divine creation, he rejects the idea of any supernatural force in science or medicine, or anything resembling special providence. In the De usu partium, Galen claims to agree with Moses that “the beginning of genesis in all things generated” came “from the demiurge,” but he disagrees with Moses that anything is possible with God, suggesting that God cannot suddenly turn a stone into a man or create a horse or cow from ashes. “In this regard, our perspective, along with that of Plato and other Greek thinkers who have accurately written about natural science, differs from Moses.” Galen believes that God does not act against nature but always chooses the best possible natural course. He expresses admiration for nature's ability to keep eyebrows and eyelashes at the same length, preventing them from growing long like beards or hair, which he attributes to the provision of a harder cartilaginous tissue for their growth; he asserts that mere divine will wouldn't stop hairs from growing in softer flesh. If God hadn’t provided the cartilaginous material for the eyelashes, “He would have been more careless, not only than Moses but than a useless general who builds a wall in a swamp.” [664] Between the views of God held by Moses and Epicurus, Galen prefers a balanced approach.

Galen’s experimental instinct.

Already in describing Galen’s dissections and tests with the pulse we have seen evidence of the accurate observation and experimental instincts which accompanied his zest for hard work and zeal for truth. In one of his treatises he[Pg 152] confesses that it was a passion of his always to test everything for himself. “And if anyone accuses me of this, I will confess my disease, from which I have suffered all my life long, that I have trusted no one of those who narrate such things until I have tested it myself, if it was possible for me to have experience of it.”[665] Galen also recognized that general theories were not sufficient for exact knowledge and that specific examples seen with one’s own eyes were indispensable.[666] He maintains that, if all teachers and writers would realize and observe this, they would make comparatively few false statements. He saw the danger of making absolute assertions and the need of noting the particular circumstances of each individual case.[667] Galen more than once declared that things, not names, were important and refused to waste time in disputing about terminology and definitions which might be spent in “pursuing the knowledge of things themselves.”[668] Thus we see in Galen a pragmatic scientist intent upon concrete facts and exact knowledge; but at the same time it must be recognized that he accepted some universal theorems and general views.

Already in describing Galen’s dissections and experiments with the pulse, we see evidence of the keen observation and experimental instincts that came with his dedication to hard work and passion for truth. In one of his writings, he[Pg 152] admits that he always had a passion for testing everything himself. “And if anyone accuses me of this, I will confess my lifelong affliction: I have not trusted anyone who tells about these things until I have tested it myself, if it was possible for me to experience it.” Galen also understood that general theories weren’t enough for precise knowledge and that specific examples seen firsthand were essential. He argued that if all teachers and writers recognized and observed this, they would make far fewer false statements. He acknowledged the risks of making absolute claims and the importance of considering the unique circumstances of each individual situation. Galen repeatedly stated that the realities of things, not just their names, were important and he refused to waste time debating terminology and definitions that could be better spent “pursuing the knowledge of things themselves.” Thus, we see in Galen a practical scientist focused on concrete facts and precise knowledge; but it must also be acknowledged that he accepted some universal theories and general ideas.

Attitude towards authorities.

Galen did not believe in merely repeating in new books the statements of previous authorities. Ever since boyhood, he writes in his Anatomical Administrations, it has seemed to him that one should record in writing only one’s new discoveries and not repeat what has been said already.[669] Nevertheless in some of his writings he collects the prescriptions of past physicians at great length, and a previous treatise by Archigenes is practically embodied in one of Galen’s works on compound medicines. On another occasion, however, after stating that Crito had combined previous treatises upon cosmetics, including the work of Cleopatra, into four books of his own which constitute a well-nigh exhaustive treatment of the subject, Galen says that[Pg 153] he sees no profit in copying Crito’s work again and merely reproduces its table of contents.[670] On the other hand, as this passage shows, Galen thought that the ancients had stated many things admirably and he had little patience with contemporaries who would learn nothing from them but were always ambitiously weaving new and complicated dogmas, or misinterpreting and perverting the teachings of the ancients.[671] His method was rather first to “make haste and stretch every nerve to learn what the most celebrated of the ancients have said;”[672] then, having mastered this teaching, to judge it and put it to the test for a long time and determine by observation how much of it agrees and how much disagrees with actual phenomena, and then embrace the former portion and reject the latter.

Galen didn’t think it was enough to just restate the ideas of earlier experts in new books. Since he was a boy, he says in his Anatomical Administrations, he believed that one should write only about new discoveries and not repeat what’s already been said. [669] Still, in some of his writings, he extensively collects the prescriptions of earlier physicians, and a past treatise by Archigenes is nearly integrated into one of Galen’s works on compound medicines. In another instance, after mentioning that Crito combined earlier treatises on cosmetics, including Cleopatra’s work, into four books that cover the topic almost completely, Galen states that[Pg 153] he finds no benefit in rehashing Crito’s work and instead just includes its table of contents. [670] On the flip side, this passage shows that Galen believed the ancients expressed many ideas excellently, and he had little patience for his contemporaries who learned nothing from them, always trying to create new and complicated theories or misinterpreting and distorting the ancient teachings. [671] His approach was to first “hurry and make every effort to learn what the most respected ancients have said;” [672] then, after thoroughly understanding this knowledge, to evaluate it through long-term testing and observation to see how much aligns and how much contradicts real phenomena, eventually accepting what fits and rejecting what doesn’t.

Adverse criticism of past writers.

This critical employment of past authorities is frequently illustrated in Galen’s works. He mentions a great many names of past physicians and writers, thereby shedding some light upon the history of Greek medicine; but at times he criticizes his predecessors, not sparing even Empedocles and Aristotle. Although he cites Aristotle a great deal, he declares that it is not surprising that Aristotle made many errors in the anatomy of animals, since he thought that the heart in large animals had a third ventricle.[673] As we have already seen in discussing the topic of weights and measurements, Galen especially objects to the vagueness and inaccuracy of many past medical writers,[674] or praises individuals like Heras who give specific information.[675] He also shows a preference for writers who give first-hand information, commending Heraclides of Tarentum as a trustworthy man, if there ever was one, who set down only those things proved by his own experience.[676] Galen declares that one could spend a lifetime in reading the books that have already been written upon medicinal simples. He urges his readers, however, to abstain from Andreas and[Pg 154] other liars of that stamp, and above all to eschew Pamphilus who never saw even in a dream the herbs which he describes.

Galen often uses references to past authorities to emphasize his points. He names many previous physicians and writers, shedding light on the history of Greek medicine. However, he isn't afraid to criticize his predecessors, including Empedocles and Aristotle. While he references Aristotle frequently, he argues that it's not surprising Aristotle made several mistakes regarding animal anatomy because he believed that large animals had a third ventricle in their hearts. As we’ve discussed regarding weights and measurements, Galen particularly criticizes the vagueness and inaccuracies found in many older medical texts, while praising individuals like Heras who provide specific details. He prefers writers who offer first-hand accounts, praising Heraclides of Tarentum as a reliable source who only wrote about what he had personally observed. Galen states that one could spend a lifetime reading all the existing books on medicinal plants. Nonetheless, he advises his readers to stay away from Andreas and other dishonest writers of that sort, and especially to avoid Pamphilus, who has never even seen the herbs he describes, not even in a dream.

Galen’s estimate of Dioscorides.

Of all previous writers upon materia medica Galen preferred Dioscorides. He writes, “But Anazarbensis Dioscorides in five books discussed all useful material not only of herbs but of trees and fruits and juices and liquors, treating besides both all metals and the parts of animals.”[677] Yet he does not hesitate to criticize certain statements of Dioscorides, such as the story of mixing goat’s blood with the terra sigillata of Lemnos. Dioscorides had also attributed marvelous virtues to the stone Gagates which he said came from a river of that name in Lycia; Galen’s comment is that he has skirted the entire coast of Lycia in a small boat and found no such stream.[678] He also wonders that Dioscorides described butter as made of the milk of sheep and goats, and correctly states that “this drug” is made from cows’ milk.[679] Galen does not mention its use as a food in his work on medicinal simples, and in his treatise upon food values he alludes to butter rather incidentally in the chapter on milk, stating that it is a fatty substance and easily recognized by tasting it, that it has many of the properties of oil, and in cold countries is sometimes used in baths in place of oil.[680] Galen further criticizes Dioscorides for his unfamiliarity with the Greek language and consequent failure to grasp the significance of many Greek names.

Of all the previous writers on materia medica, Galen preferred Dioscorides. He writes, “But Anazarbensis Dioscorides in five books covered all useful materials, not only from herbs but also from trees, fruits, juices, and drinks, addressing all metals and the parts of animals as well.”[677] Yet, he isn't afraid to critique some of Dioscorides's statements, like the story of mixing goat’s blood with the terra sigillata of Lemnos. Dioscorides also claimed that the stone Gagates had wonderful properties, stating it came from a river with the same name in Lycia; however, Galen mentions that he has traveled the entire Lycia coast in a small boat and found no such river.[678] He also questions Dioscorides's description of butter being made from sheep and goat milk, correctly stating that “this drug” is made from cow's milk.[679] Galen does not mention its use as food in his work on medicinal simples, and in his writing on food values, he only casually refers to butter in the chapter on milk, noting that it is a fatty substance easily identified by taste, has many properties similar to oil, and in colder regions, is sometimes used in baths instead of oil.[680] Galen also criticizes Dioscorides for not being familiar with the Greek language and consequently misunderstanding many Greek names.

Galen’s dogmatism: logic and experience.

Daremberg said of Galen that he represented at the same time the most exaggerated dogmatism and the most advanced experimental school. There is some justification for the paradox, though the latter part seems to me the truer. But Galen was proud of his training in philosophy and logic and mathematics; he stood fast by many Hippocratic dogmas such as the four qualities theory, he thought[681] that in medicine as in geometry there were a certain num[Pg 155]ber of self-evident maxims upon which reason, conforming to the rules of logic, might build up a scientific structure. In the De methodo medendi[682] he makes a distinction between the discovery of drugs and medicines, simple or compound, by experience and the methodical treatment of disease which he now sets forth and which should proceed logically and independently of mere empiricism, and he wishes that other medical writers would make it clear when they are relying merely on experience and when exclusively upon reason.[683] At the same time he expresses his dislike for mere dogmatizers who shout their ipse dixits like tyrants without the support either of reason or experience.[684] He also grants that the ordinary man, taught by nature alone, often instinctively pursues a better course of action for his health than “the sophists” are able to advise.[685] Indeed, he is of the opinion that some doctors would do well to stick to experience alone and not try to mix in reasoning, since they are not trained in logic, and when they endeavor to divide or analyze a theme, perform like unskilled carvers who fail to find the joints and mutilate the roast.[686] Later on in the same work[687] he again affirms that persons who will not read and profit by the books of medical authorities and whose own reasoning is defective, should limit themselves to experience.

Daremberg said of Galen that he embodied both extreme dogmatism and the most progressive experimental approach at the same time. There’s some truth to this contradiction, although the latter seems more accurate to me. Galen took pride in his background in philosophy, logic, and mathematics; he strongly upheld many Hippocratic principles, like the four qualities theory. He believed that, just like in geometry, there are certain self-evident truths in medicine that reason, following the rules of logic, could use to build a scientific framework. In the De methodo medendi, he distinguishes between discovering drugs and medicines—whether simple or compound—through experience and the systematic treatment of diseases that he presents, which should follow a logical process independent of mere empiricism. He wishes other medical writers would clarify when they are relying solely on experience versus when they are using only reason. At the same time, he expresses his disdain for mere dogmatizers who assert their opinions like tyrants without the backing of either reason or experience. He also acknowledges that the average person, guided only by nature, often instinctively makes better health decisions than “the sophists” can recommend. In fact, he believes some doctors would be better off relying strictly on experience rather than trying to incorporate reasoning when they lack training in logic, as they end up behaving like amateur carvers who butcher the roast without finding the joints. Later in the same work, he reiterates that individuals who refuse to read and learn from the writings of medical authorities and whose reasoning abilities are flawed should confine themselves to experience.

Galen’s account of the Empirics.

Normally, however, Galen upholds both reason and experience as criteria of truth against the opposing schools of Dogmatics and Empirics. The former attacked experience as uncertain and impossible to regulate, slow and unmethodical. The latter replied that experience was consistent, adaptable to art, and proof enough.[688] Galen’s chief objection to the Empirics is that they reject reason as a criterion of truth and wish the medical art to be irrational.[689] “The Empirics say that all things are discovered by experi[Pg 156]ence, but we say that some are found by experience and some by reason.”[690] Galen also objects to Herodotus’s explanation of the medical art as originating in the conversation of patients exposed at crossroads who told one another of their complaints and recoveries and thus evolved a fund of common experience.[691] Galen criticizes such experience as irrational and not yet put into scientific form (οὔπω λογική). Of the Empirics he tells us further that they regard phenomena only and ignore causes and put no trust in reasoning. They hold that there is no system or necessary order in medical discovery or doctrine, and that some remedies have been discovered by dreams, others by chance. They also accepted written accounts of past experiences and thus to a certain extent trusted in tradition. Galen argues that they should test these statements of past authorities by reason.[692] His further contention that, if they test them by experience, they might as well reject all writings and trust only to present experience from the start, is a sophistical quibble unworthy of him. He adds, however, that the Empirics themselves say that past tradition or “history” (ἱστορία) should not be judged by experience, but it is unlikely that he represents their view correctly in this particular. In another passage[693] he says that they distinguish three kinds of experience, chance or accidental, offhand or impromptu, and imitative or the repetition of the same thing. In a third passage[694] he repeats that they held that observation of one or two instances was not enough, but that oft-repeated observation was needed with all conditions the same each time. In yet another place[695] he says that the Empirics observe coincidences in things joined by experience. He himself defines experience as the comprehending and remembering of something seen often and in the same condition,[696] and makes the good point that one cannot observe satisfactorily without use of reason.[697] He also admits[Pg 157] in one place that some Empirics are ready to employ reason as well as experience.[698]

Normally, though, Galen maintains that both reason and experience are essential criteria for truth, pushing back against the rival schools of Dogmatics and Empirics. The Dogmatics criticized experience as unreliable and hard to regulate, slow, and lacking in method. In response, the Empirics argued that experience is consistent, adaptable to practice, and sufficient proof. Galen's main objection to the Empirics is that they dismiss reason as a standard for truth and argue that medical practice should be irrational. "The Empirics claim that everything is discovered through experience, but we argue that some things are found through experience and others through reason." Galen also criticizes Herodotus for saying that the medical art came from patients at crossroads sharing their complaints and recoveries, which created a collective experience. He calls such experience irrational and not yet scientifically organized (οὔπω λογική). He tells us further that the Empirics focus only on observable phenomena and dismiss causes, placing no faith in reasoning. They believe that there's no systematic approach or necessary order in medical discoveries or theories and that some remedies arise from dreams or chance encounters. They also accepted written accounts of past experiences and thus somewhat relied on tradition. Galen argues that they should validate these historical sources through reason. His further claim that if they test these writings through experience, they might as well disregard all texts and only trust present-day experiences is a clever twist that doesn't do him justice. He acknowledges, however, that the Empirics themselves state that past tradition or "history" (ἱστορία) should not be evaluated through experience, although it's doubtful he accurately represents their stance here. In another excerpt, he notes that they differentiate three types of experience: incidental or accidental, off-the-cuff or spontaneous, and imitative or repetitive. In yet another section, he reiterates that merely observing one or two instances isn’t sufficient; instead, repeated observation is necessary with consistent conditions each time. In a further passage, he points out that the Empirics note coincidences in experiences. He defines experience as understanding and recalling something seen frequently and under the same circumstances, and he aptly notes that one cannot make satisfactory observations without reason. He also concedes in one instance that some Empirics are willing to utilize both reason and experience.

How the Empirics might have criticized Galen.

Having noted Galen’s criticism of the Empirics, we may imagine what their attitude would be towards his medicine. They would probably reject all his theories—which we, too, have finally discarded—of four elements and four qualities and the like, and would accept only his specific recommendations for the cure of disease based upon his medical experience; except that they would also be credulous concerning anything which he assured them was based upon his own or another’s experience, whether it truly was or not. They would, however, have probably questioned much of his anatomical inference from the dissection of the lower animals, since he tells us that they “have written whole books against anatomy.”[699] Considering the state of knowledge in their time, their refusal to attempt any large generalizations or to hazard any scientific hypotheses or to build any risky medical system was in a way commendable, but their credulity as to particulars was a weakness.

Having seen Galen’s criticism of the Empirics, we can guess how they would feel about his approach to medicine. They would likely dismiss all his theories—which we’ve also moved away from—about the four elements and four qualities, and only consider his specific recommendations for treating diseases based on his medical experience. However, they would also be likely to believe anything he claimed was based on his or someone else's experience, whether it actually was or not. They probably would have challenged much of his anatomical conclusions drawn from dissecting lower animals, since he mentions that they “have written whole books against anatomy.” Considering the level of knowledge in their time, their choice to avoid making broad generalizations, taking scientific risks, or creating any ambitious medical system was somewhat admirable, but their gullibility regarding specific details was a weakness.

Galen’s standard of reason and experience.

On the whole Galen’s attitude towards experience seems an improvement upon theirs. He was apparently more critical towards the “experiences” of past writers than the average Empiric, and in his combination of reason and experience he came a little nearer to modern experimental method. Reason alone, he says, discovers some things, experience alone discovers some, but to find others requires use of both experience and reason.[700] In his treatise upon critical days he keeps reiterating that their existence is proved both by reason and experience. These two instruments in judging things given us by nature supplement each other.[701] “Logical methods have force in finding what is sought, but in believing what has been well found there are two criteria for all men, reason and experience.”[702] “What can you do with men who cannot be persuaded either by reason or by[Pg 158] practice?”[703] Galen also speaks of discovering a truth by logic and being thereby encouraged to try it in practice and of then verifying it by experience.[704] This, however, is not quite the same thing as saying that the scientist should aim to discover new truth by purposive experiments, or that from a number of experiences reason may infer some general law of nature.

Overall, Galen's approach to experience seems to be an improvement compared to theirs. He was clearly more critical of the "experiences" of earlier writers than the average Empiric, and in his blend of reasoning and experience, he came a bit closer to modern experimental methods. He states that reasoning discovers some truths, experience uncovers others, but to find more, we need to use both experience and reason. In his work on critical days, he keeps emphasizing that their existence is confirmed by both reason and experience. These two tools we get from nature complement each other. “Logical methods are effective in uncovering what we seek, but when it comes to believing what has been accurately found, everyone relies on two standards: reason and experience.” “What can you do with people who can’t be convinced by either reason or practice?” Galen also discusses how discovering a truth through logic can encourage attempts to put it into practice and then verify it through experience. However, this is not quite the same as saying that scientists should aim to discover new truths through intentional experiments, or that reason can derive a general law of nature from a series of experiences.

Simples knowable only from experience.

It is perhaps in his work on medicinal simples that Galen lays most stress upon the importance of experience. Indeed he sees no other way to learn the properties of natural objects than through the experience of the senses.[705] “For by the gods,” he exclaims, “how is it that we know that fire is hot? Are we taught it by some syllogism or persuaded of it by some demonstration? And how do we learn that ice is cold except from the senses?”[706] And Galen sees no advantage in spending further time in arguments and hair-splitting where one can learn the truth at once from the senses. This thought he keeps repeating through the treatise, saying, for example, “The surest judge of all will be experience alone, and those who abandon it and reason on any other basis not only are deceived but destroy the value of the treatise.”[707] Moreover, he restricts his account of medicinal simples to those with which he is personally acquainted. In the three books treating of plants he does not mention all those found in all parts of the world, but only as many as it has been his privilege to know by experience.[708] He proposes to follow the same rule in the ensuing discussion of animals and to say nothing of virtues which he has not tested or of substances mentioned in the writings of past physicians but unknown to him. He dares not trust their statements when he reflects how some have lied in such matters. In the middle ages Albertus Magnus talks in much the same strain in his works on animals, plants, and minerals, and perhaps he was stimulated to such ideals, consciously or un[Pg 159]consciously, directly by reading Galen or indirectly through Arabic works, by Galen’s earlier expression of them. Galen mentions some virtues ascribed to substances which he has tested by experience and found false, such as the medicinal properties attributed to the belly of a seagull[709] and some of those claimed for the marine animal called torpedo.[710] Anointing the place with frog’s blood or dog’s milk will not prevent eyebrows that have been plucked out from growing again, nor will bat’s blood and viper’s fat remove hair from the arm-pits.[711] Also the brain of a hare is only fairly good for boys’ teeth.[712]

It’s probably in his work on medicinal plants that Galen emphasizes the importance of experience the most. He truly believes there’s no better way to learn about natural substances than through our sensory experiences.[705] “For by the gods,” he exclaims, “how do we know that fire is hot? Are we taught this through some logical reasoning or convinced by demonstrations? And how do we find out that ice is cold except through our senses?”[706] Galen finds no benefit in wasting time on arguments and petty details when the truth can be learned directly through the senses. He keeps reiterating this throughout the treatise, stating, for instance, “Experience alone is the most reliable judge, and those who dismiss it and reason from another basis are not only misled but also undermine the value of the treatise.”[707] Furthermore, he limits his discussion of medicinal plants to those he knows personally. In the three books about plants, he doesn’t mention every type found around the world, but only those he has encountered through experience.[708] He intends to apply the same principle in the upcoming discussion of animals, not discussing any properties he hasn’t tested himself or substances noted in the writings of previous physicians that he isn’t familiar with. He won’t trust their claims when he thinks about how some have lied in those matters. In the Middle Ages, Albertus Magnus writes similarly in his works on animals, plants, and minerals, and he may have been inspired to these ideas, consciously or unconsciously, directly by reading Galen or indirectly through Arabic texts, reflecting Galen’s earlier expressions. Galen points out some qualities attributed to substances he has tested and found to be false, such as the medicinal uses claimed for a seagull’s belly[709] and some that are associated with the marine animal called torpedo.[710] Applying frog’s blood or dog’s milk won’t prevent plucked eyebrows from regrowing, nor will bat’s blood and viper’s fat remove underarm hair.[711] Additionally, hare brain is only somewhat effective for children’s teeth.[712]

Experience and food science.

In beginning his work on food values[713] Galen states that many have discussed the properties of aliments, some on the basis of reason alone, some on the basis of experience alone, but that their statements do not agree. On the whole, since reasoning is not easy for everyone, requiring natural sagacity and training from childhood, he thinks it better to start from experience, especially since not a few physicians are of the opinion that only thus can the properties of foods be learned.

In starting his work on the value of food, Galen says that many people have talked about the properties of food, some relying solely on reason and others solely on experience, but their views do not match. Overall, since reasoning isn't easy for everyone and requires inherent cleverness and training from a young age, he believes it's better to begin with experience, especially since many doctors think this is the only way to truly understand the properties of food.

Experience and compounds.

The Empirics contended that most compound medicines had been hit upon by chance, and Galen grants that the Dogmatics usually are unable to give reasons for the ingredients of their doses and find difficulty in reproducing a lost prescription.[714] But he holds that reasons can be given for the constituents of the compound and that the logical discovery of such remedies differs from the empirical.[715] His own method was to learn the nature of each disease and the varied properties of simples, and then prepare a compound suited to the disease and to the patient.[716] On the other hand, we see how much depends upon experience from his confession that sometimes he has hastily prepared a compound from a few simples, sometimes from more, sometimes from a great variety. If the compound worked well, he would[Pg 160] continue to use it, sometimes making it stronger and sometimes weaker.[717] For as you cannot put together compounds without rational method, so you cannot tell their strength certainly and accurately without experience.[718] He admits that no one can tell the exact quantity of each ingredient to employ without the aid of experience,[719] and says, “The proper proportions in the mixture we shall find conjecturally before experience, scientifically after experience.”[720] In these treatises upon compound medicines, unlike that on medicinal simples, Galen gives the prescriptions of former physicians as well as some tested by his own experience.[721] Sometimes, however, he expresses a preference for the medicines of those writers who were “most experienced”; and once says that he will give some compounds of the more recent writers, who in their turn had selected the best from older writers of long experience and added later discoveries.[722] We suspect, however, that some of these prescriptions had not been tested for centuries.

The Empirics argued that most compound medicines were discovered by chance, and Galen acknowledges that the Dogmatics typically struggle to explain the reasons behind their ingredients and have trouble reproducing a lost prescription. [714] However, he believes that logical reasons can be provided for the components of the compound, and that the systematic discovery of such remedies is different from the empirical approach. [715] His method involved understanding the nature of each disease and the various properties of single ingredients, then creating a compound tailored to the disease and the patient. [716] On the flip side, he recognizes how much relies on experience, admitting that he sometimes prepared a compound quickly using just a few simple ingredients, other times with more, or even a wide variety. If a compound was effective, he would keep using it, occasionally making it stronger or weaker. [717] Just as you can’t combine ingredients without a rational method, you can’t know their strength accurately without experience. [718] He acknowledges that no one can determine the exact quantity of each ingredient without relying on experience, [719] stating, “We can find the proper proportions in the mixture by guesswork before experience and scientifically after.” [720] In his discussions on compound medicines, unlike those on simple medicines, Galen includes prescriptions from earlier physicians alongside some he has verified through his own experience. [721] However, he sometimes prefers the medicines from those writers who were “most experienced”; and at one point, he mentions he will provide some compounds from more recent writers, who had chosen the best from earlier, more experienced writers, along with new discoveries. [722] We suspect, though, that some of these prescriptions hadn’t been tested for centuries.

Suggestions of experimental method.

Galen gives a few directions how to regulate medical observation and experience, although they cannot be said to carry us very far on the road to modern laboratory research. He saw the value of “long experience,” a phrase which he often employs.[723] He states that one experience is enough to learn how to prepare a drug, but to learn to know the best medicines in each kind and in different places many experiences are required.[724] Medicinal simples should be frequently inspected, “since the knowledge of things perceived by the senses is strengthened by careful examination.”[725] Galen advises the student of medicine to study herbs, trees, and fruit as they grow, to find out when it is best to pluck them, how to preserve them, and so on. But elsewhere he states that it is possible to estimate the general virtue of the simple[Pg 161] from one or two experiences.[726] However, he suggests that their effect be noted in the three cases of a perfectly healthy person, a slightly ailing patient, and a really sick man.[727] In the last case one should further note their varying effects as the disease is marked by any excess of heat, cold, dryness, or moisture. Care should be taken that the simples themselves are pure and free from any admixture of a foreign substance.[728] “It is also essential to test the relation to the nature of the patient of all those things of which great use is made in the medical art.”[729] One condition to be observed in experimental investigation of critical days is to count no cases where any slip has been made by physician or patient or bystanders or where any other foreign factor has done harm.[730] Galen was acquainted with physical experiments in siphoning, for he says that, if one withdraws the air from a vessel containing sand and water, the sand will follow before the water, which is the heavier (sic?).[731]

Galen provides some guidance on how to manage medical observation and experience, although these methods don't really advance us significantly toward modern laboratory research. He recognized the importance of “long experience,” a term he often uses. He mentions that one experience is enough to learn how to prepare a drug, but to truly understand which medicines are best for specific types and locations, many experiences are needed. Medicinal plants should be frequently examined, “since the knowledge of things perceived by the senses is strengthened by careful examination.” Galen advises medical students to study herbs, trees, and fruits as they grow to determine the best time to pick them, how to preserve them, and more. However, he also mentions that it’s possible to gauge the general effectiveness of a simple remedy based on one or two experiences. He suggests noting their effects in three scenarios: a perfectly healthy person, a slightly ill patient, and a seriously sick person. In the last case, it’s important to observe how their effects vary depending on whether the illness is characterized by excess heat, cold, dryness, or moisture. Care must be taken to ensure that the remedies are pure and free from any contamination. “It is also essential to test the relation to the nature of the patient of all those things that are widely used in medical practice.” One condition to keep in mind during experimental investigations of critical days is to exclude any cases where there has been a mistake by the physician, patient, or bystanders, or where any other external factor has caused harm. Galen was familiar with physical experiments involving siphoning, as he notes that if air is removed from a vessel containing sand and water, the sand will be displaced before the water, which is heavier.

Difficulty of medical experiment.

Galen also points out some of the difficulties of medical experimentation. One is the extreme unlikelihood of ever being able to observe in even two cases the same combination of symptoms and circumstances.[732] The other is the danger to the life of the patient from rash experimenting.[733] Thus Galen more than once tells us of abstaining from testing some remedy because he had others of whose effects he was surer.

Galen also highlights some challenges of medical experimentation. One is the very low chance of seeing the exact same mix of symptoms and situations in even two cases.[732] The other is the risk to the patient’s life from reckless experimentation.[733] So, Galen often mentions refraining from testing a remedy because he had others whose effects he was more confident about.

Empirical remedies.

In the treatise on easily procurable remedies ascribed to Galen,[734] in which we have already seen evidence of later interpolation or authorship, some recipes are concluded by[Pg 162] such expressions as, “This has been experienced; it works unceasingly,”[735] or “Another remedy tested by us in many cases.”[736] This became a custom in many subsequent medical works, including those of the middle ages. One recipe is introduced by the caution, “But don’t cure anybody unless you have been paid first, for this has been tested in many cases.”[737] But we are left in some doubt whether we should infer that remedies tested by experience are so superior that they call for cash payment rather than credit, or so uncertain that it is advisable that the physician secure his fee before the outcome is known. In the middle ages the word experimentum was used a great deal as a synonym for any medical treatment, recipe, or prescription. Galen approaches this usage, which we have already noticed in Pliny’s Natural History, when he describes “a very important experiment” in bleeding performed by certain doctors at Rome.[738]

In the treatise on easily available remedies attributed to Galen, in which there's clear evidence of later additions or authorship, some recipes end with phrases like, “This has been tried; it works continuously,” or “Another remedy tested by us in many situations.” This became a common practice in many later medical texts, including those from the middle ages. One recipe starts with the warning, “But don’t treat anyone unless you’ve been paid first, because this has been tested in many cases.” But it leaves us unsure whether we should think that remedies proven by experience are so good that they deserve to be paid for upfront, or so unreliable that it's wise for the doctor to secure their fee before the results are seen. In the middle ages, the word experimentum was frequently used as a synonym for any medical treatment, recipe, or prescription. Galen touches on this usage, which we’ve already seen in Pliny’s Natural History, when he mentions “a very important experiment” in bleeding done by certain doctors in Rome.

Galen’s influence upon medieval experiment.

Indeed Galen appears to have exerted a great influence in the middle ages by his passages concerning experience in particular as well as by his medicine in general. Medieval writers cite him as an authority for the recognition of experience and reason as criteria of truth.[739] Gilbert of England cites “experiences from the book of experiments experienced by Galen,”[740] and we shall find more than one such apocryphal work ascribed to Galen in the middle ages. John of St. Amand seems to have developed seven rules[741] which he gives for discovering experimentally the properties of medicinal simples from what we have heard Galen say on the subject, and in another work, the Concordances, John collects a number of passages about experience from[Pg 163] the works of Galen.[742] Peter of Spain, who died as Pope John XXI in 1277, cites Galen in his discussion of “the way of experience” and “the way of reason” in his Commentaries on Isaac on Diets.[743] We have already suggested Galen’s possible influence upon Albertus Magnus, and we might add Roger Bacon who wrote some treatises on medicine. But it is hardly possible to tell whether such ideas were in the air, or were due to Galen individually either in their origin or their transmission. But he made a rather close approach to the medieval attitude in his equal regard for logic and for experimentation.

Indeed, Galen seems to have had a significant impact in the Middle Ages with his writings about experience in particular and his medicine overall. Medieval writers reference him as an authority on recognizing experience and reason as measures of truth.[739] Gilbert of England refers to “experiences from the book of experiments conducted by Galen,”[740] and there are several apocryphal works attributed to Galen from the Middle Ages. John of St. Amand appears to have developed seven rules[741] for experimentally discovering the properties of medicinal simples based on what Galen said about the topic, and in another work, the Concordances, John compiles several passages about experience from[Pg 163] Galen’s writings.[742] Peter of Spain, who became Pope John XXI in 1277, references Galen in his discussion of “the way of experience” and “the way of reason” in his Commentaries on Isaac on Diets.[743] We've already mentioned Galen's potential influence on Albertus Magnus, and we could also include Roger Bacon, who wrote a few treatises on medicine. However, it's difficult to determine if these ideas were just prevalent at the time or if they can be traced directly back to Galen, either in their origin or transmission. Nevertheless, he approached the medieval mindset closely by valuing both logic and experimentation equally.

His more general medieval influence.

The more general influence of Galen upon all sides of the medicine of the following fifteen centuries has often been stated in sweeping terms, but is difficult to exaggerate. His general theories, his particular cures, his occasional marvelous stories, were often repeated or paraphrased. Oribasius has been called “the ape of Galen,” and we shall see that the epithet might with equal reason be applied to Aëtius of Amida. Indeed, as in the case of Pliny, we shall find plenty of instances of Galen’s influence in our later chapters. Perhaps as good a single instance of medieval study of Galen as could be given is from the Concordances of John of St. Amand already mentioned, which bear the alternative title, “Recalled to Mind” (Revocativum memoriae), since they were written to “relieve from toil and worry scholars who often spend sleepless nights in searching for points in the books of Galen.”[744] Or we may note how the associates of the twelfth century translator from the Arabic, Gerard of Cremona, added a list of his works at the close of his translation of Galen’s Tegni, “imitating Galen in the commemoration of his books at the end of the same treatise,” as they themselves state.[745]

The widespread impact of Galen on medicine over the next fifteen centuries is often described in broad terms, but it's hard to overstate. His general theories, specific treatments, and occasional amazing stories were frequently repeated or paraphrased. Oribasius has been referred to as “the ape of Galen,” and we’ll see that this label could equally apply to Aëtius of Amida. In fact, like with Pliny, we’ll find many examples of Galen’s influence in the chapters to come. A notable example of medieval study of Galen can be found in the Concordances of John of St. Amand, which also have the title “Recalled to Mind” (Revocativum memoriae), as they were created to “ease the burden of scholars who often lose sleep searching for references in Galen’s works.” [744] Additionally, we can observe how the colleagues of the twelfth-century Arabic translator, Gerard of Cremona, included a list of his works at the end of his translation of Galen’s Tegni, “following Galen’s example by commemorating his books at the end of the same treatise,” as they themselves noted.[745]

Not that medieval men did not make additions of their[Pg 164] own to Galen. For instance, the noted Jewish philosopher, Moses Maimonides, in adding his collection of medical Aphorisms to the many previous compilations of this sort by Hippocrates, Rasis (Muhammad ibn Zakariya), Mesuë (Yuhanna ibn Masawaih), and others, states that he has drawn them mainly from the works of Galen, but that he supplements these with some in his own name and some by other “moderns.”[746] Not that Galen was not sometimes criticized or questioned. A later Greek writer, Symeon Seth, ventured to devote a special treatise to a refutation of some of Galen’s physiological views. In it, addressing himself to those “persons who regard you, O Galen, as a god,” he endeavored to make them realize that no human being is infallible.[747] Among the medical treatises of Gentile da Foligno, who was papal physician and performed a public dissection at Padua in 1341,[748] is found a brief argument against Galen’s fifth aphorism.[749] But such criticism or opposition[Pg 165] only shows how generally Galen was accepted as an authority.

Not that medieval men didn't add their own ideas to Galen's work. For example, the well-known Jewish philosopher, Moses Maimonides, included his collection of medical Aphorisms in addition to many earlier compilations by Hippocrates, Rasis (Muhammad ibn Zakariya), Mesuë (Yuhanna ibn Masawaih), and others. He mentioned that he primarily drew from Galen's works, but he also added some of his own and some from other “moderns.”[746] It's not that Galen wasn't sometimes criticized or questioned. A later Greek writer, Symeon Seth, took the initiative to write a special treatise refuting some of Galen’s physiological views. In it, he addressed those “people who see you, O Galen, as a god,” trying to help them realize that no human being is infallible.[747] Among the medical writings of Gentile da Foligno, who was the papal physician and conducted a public dissection at Padua in 1341,[748] is a short argument against Galen’s fifth aphorism.[749] But such criticism or opposition[Pg 165] only highlights how widely Galen was accepted as an authority.

III. His Attitude Towards Magic

From Galen’s habits of critical estimation rather than blind acceptation of authority, of scientific observation, careful measurement, and personal experiment, from his brilliant demonstrations by dissection, and his medical prognostication and therapeutics, sane and shrewd for his time,—from these we have now to turn to the other side of the picture, and examine what information his works afford us concerning the magic and astrology in ancient medicine, concerning the belief in occult virtues, suspensions, characters, incantations, and the like. We may first consider what he has to say concerning magic and divination as he understands those words, and then take up his attitude to those other matters which we look upon as almost equally deserving classification under those heads.

From Galen’s approach of critical evaluation instead of just accepting authority, through scientific observation, careful measurement, and personal experimentation, and from his impressive demonstrations through dissection, along with his medical predictions and practical treatments that were rational and insightful for his time,—we now need to shift our focus to the other side of the picture, and look at what his works reveal about magic and astrology in ancient medicine, as well as the belief in hidden powers, charms, symbols, incantations, and similar practices. We can first examine what he has to say about magic and divination as he interprets those terms, and then explore his views on other topics that we consider equally important to categorize under those themes.

Accusations of magic against Galen.

Apollonius of Tyana and Apuleius of Madaura were not the only celebrated men of learning in the early Roman Empire to be accused of magic; we have already alluded to the charges of magic made against Galen by the envious physicians of Rome during his first residence in that city. It is hard to escape the conviction that at that time learned men were very liable to be suspected or accused of magic. Indeed, Galen makes the general assertion that when a physician prognosticates aright concerning the future course of a malady, this seems so marvelous to most men that they would receive him with great affection, if they did not often regard him as a wizard.[750] Soon after saying this, Galen begins the story of the prognostications he made and the cure he wrought, when all the other doctors took an opposite view of the case.[751] One of them then jealously suggested that Galen’s diagnosis was due to divination.[752] When asked by what kind of divination, he gave different answers[Pg 166] at different times and to different persons, sometimes saying by dreams, sometimes by sacrificing, again by symbols, or by astrology. Afterwards such charges against Galen kept multiplying.[753] As a result, Galen says that since then he has not gone about advertising his prognostications like a herald, lest the physicians and philosophers hate him the more and slander him as a wizard and diviner, but that he now reveals his discoveries only to his friends.[754] In another treatise he represents Hippocrates as saying that a proficient doctor should be able to prognosticate the course of diseases, but adds that contemporary physicians call such a doctor a sorcerer and wonder-worker (γόητά τε καὶ παραδοξολόγον).[755] Again in his work on medicinal simples[756] he states that he abstained from testing the supposed virtue of crocodile’s blood in sharpening the vision, and the blood of house mice in removing warts, partly because he had other reliable eye-medicines and cures for warts—such as myrmecia, a gem with wart-like lumps, partly because by employing such substances he feared to incur the reputation of a sorcerer, since jealous physicians were already slandering his medical prognostications as divination. This last passage affords a good illustration of the close connection with magic of certain natural substances supposed to possess marvelous virtues, while Galen’s wart stone also seems magical to the modern reader.

Apollonius of Tyana and Apuleius of Madaura weren't the only well-known intellectuals in the early Roman Empire accused of magic; we've already mentioned the accusations of magic against Galen by envious doctors in Rome during his first time in the city. It's hard to shake the feeling that during that period, educated people were often suspected or accused of being involved with magic. In fact, Galen states that when a doctor accurately predicts the future course of an illness, this seems so incredible to most people that they would welcome him warmly, except they often view him as a wizard. Soon after he notes this, Galen shares stories about his predictions and the cures he provided, while all the other doctors disagreed. One of them then jealously suggested that Galen's diagnosis came from divination. When asked what kind of divination, he provided different answers at different times and to different people, sometimes mentioning dreams, other times sacrifices, or symbols, and even astrology. Afterward, accusations against Galen kept increasing. Galen mentions that since then, he has avoided promoting his predictions publicly like a town crier to prevent the doctors and philosophers from disliking him more and labeling him as a wizard and diviner. Instead, he now shares his insights only with friends. In another work, he portrays Hippocrates as stating that a skilled doctor should be able to predict the course of diseases but adds that modern doctors call such a doctor a sorcerer and a miracle worker. Again, in his work on medicinal plants, he states that he refrained from testing the supposed ability of crocodile blood to enhance vision or house mouse blood to remove warts, partly because he had other effective eye treatments and wart remedies, like myrmecia, a gem with wart-like bumps, and partly because he worried about being labeled a sorcerer for using such remedies, especially since jealous doctors were already accusing his medical predictions of being divination. This last part offers a clear example of how some natural substances thought to have extraordinary powers were closely linked with magic, while Galen's wart stone also seems magical to today's reader.

His charges of magic against others.

Galen himself sometimes calls other physicians magicians. Certain men with whom he does not agree are called by him “liars or wizards or I don’t know what to say,”[757] and another man who used mouse dung to excess he calls superstitious and a sorcerer.[758] In the same work on simples[759] he says that he will list herbs in alphabetical order as Pamphilus did, but that he will not like him descend to old wives’ tales, Egyptian sorceries and incantations, amulets and other magical devices, which not only do not belong in the medical art[Pg 167] but are utterly false. Pamphilus never saw most of the herbs he mentioned, much less tested their virtues, but copied anything he found, piling up names, incantations, and wizardry. Galen accuses Xenocrates Aphrodisiensis also of not having eschewed sorcery, and he notes that medical writers have either said nothing about sweat or what is superstitious and bordering upon magic.[760]

Galen himself sometimes refers to other doctors as magicians. Certain people he disagrees with he calls “liars or wizards or I don’t know what else,”[757] and another person who excessively used mouse dung he labels as superstitious and a sorcerer.[758] In the same work on simples[759], he mentions that he will list herbs in alphabetical order like Pamphilus did, but unlike him, he won’t lower himself to old wives’ tales, Egyptian magic and spells, charms, and other magical tricks that not only don't belong in medicine[Pg 167] but are completely false. Pamphilus never actually saw most of the herbs he referenced, let alone tested their properties, but just copied whatever he could find, gathering names, spells, and sorcery. Galen also accuses Xenocrates of Aphrodisius of not having avoided magic, and he observes that medical writers have either said nothing about sweat or have mentioned things that are superstitious and almost magical.[760]

Charms and wonder-workers.

Philters, love-charms, dream-draughts, and imprecations Galen regards as impossible or injurious, and intends to have nothing to do with them. He thinks it ridiculous to believe that by such spells one can bewitch one’s adversaries so that they cannot plead in court, or conceive or bear children. He considers it worse to advertise and perpetuate such false or criminal notions in writings than to practice such a crime but once.[761] In one passage,[762] however, to illustrate his theory that the gods prepare the sperms of plants and animals, and set them going as it were, and afterwards leave them to themselves, Galen compares them to the wonder-workers—who were perhaps not magicians but men similar to our sidewalk fakirs who exhibit mechanical toys—who start things moving and then go away themselves while what they have prepared moves on artificially for a time.

Philters, love charms, dream potions, and curses are considered impossible or harmful by Galen, who wants nothing to do with them. He finds it ridiculous to think that such spells can enchant one’s opponents so they can't defend themselves in court or conceive and bear children. In his view, it's worse to promote and spread such false or harmful ideas in writing than to commit such a crime just once. [761] In one part, [762] however, to illustrate his theory that the gods create the reproductive material of plants and animals and set it in motion, then leave it to its own devices, Galen compares them to wonder workers—who were probably not magicians but more like the street performers today who show off mechanical toys—who get things started and then leave while what they've set in motion continues on its own for a time.

Animal substance inadmissible in medicine.

Galen’s own works are not entirely free from the magical devices of which he accuses others. We may begin with animal substances, since he himself has testified that the use of sweat, crocodile’s blood, and mouse’s dung is suggestive of magic. Moreover, he attributes more bizarre virtues to the parts of animals than to herbs or stones. In a passage somewhat similar to that in which Pliny[763] expressed his horror at the use of human blood, entrails, and skulls as medicines, Galen declares that he will not mention the abominable and detestable, as Xenocrates and some others have done. The Roman law has long forbidden eating human flesh, while Galen regards even the mention of certain secretions and excrements of the human body as[Pg 168] offensive to modest ears.[764] Nevertheless, before long he offends against his own standard and describes how he administered to patients the very substance which he had before characterized as most unmentionable.[765] It may also be noted that he repeats unquestioningly such a tale as that the cubs of the bear are born unformed and licked into shape by their mother.[766]

Galen’s own writings aren’t completely free from the magical practices he criticizes in others. We can start with animal substances, since he himself has pointed out that using sweat, crocodile blood, and mouse dung suggests magic. Moreover, he attributes stranger properties to animal parts than to herbs or stones. In a passage similar to when Pliny expressed his disgust at using human blood, guts, and skulls as medicines, Galen states that he won’t mention the repulsive and detestable, like Xenocrates and others have done. Roman law has long prohibited the consumption of human flesh, while Galen considers even the mention of certain secretions and waste from the human body as offensive to modest ears. Nevertheless, it’s not long before he contradicts his own standards and describes how he treated patients with the very substance he previously described as unmentionable. It’s also worth noting that he uncritically repeats a story that bear cubs are born unformed and licked into shape by their mother.

Nastiness of ancient medicine.

Further milder illustrations of the fact that such nasty substances were then not merely recommended in books but freely employed in actual medical practice, are seen in the frequent use by one of Galen’s teachers of the dung of dogs who for two days before had eaten nothing but bones,[767] in Galen’s own wonderfully successful treatment of a tumor on a rustic’s knee with goat dung—which is, however, too sharp for the skins of children or city ladies,[768] and in his discovery by repeated experience that the dung of doves who take little exercise is less potent than that of those who take much,[769] Galen also says that he has known of doctors who have cured many persons by giving them burnt human bones in drink without their knowledge.[770]

Further milder examples showing that such unpleasant substances were not only recommended in books but also used in real medical practice include the frequent use by one of Galen’s teachers of dog dung from dogs that had eaten nothing but bones for two days, [767] as well as Galen’s own remarkably successful treatment of a tumor on a farmer’s knee with goat dung—which is, however, too harsh for the skin of children or city women, [768] and his observation that the dung of doves that exercise little is less effective than that of those that exercise a lot, [769] Galen also mentions that he has known doctors who have cured many people by secretly giving them drinks containing burnt human bones. [770]

Parts of animals.

Galen’s medicinal simples include the bile of bulls, hyenas, cocks, partridges, and other animals.[771] A digestive oil can be manufactured by cooking foxes and hyenas, some alive and some dead, whole in oil.[772] Galen discusses with perfect seriousness the relative strength of various animal fats, those of the goose, hen, hyena, goat, pig, and so forth.[773] He decides that lion’s fat is by far the most potent, with that of the pard next. Among his simples are also found the slough of a snake, a sheepskin, the lichens of horses, a spider’s web,[774] and burnt young swallows, for whose introduction into medicine he gives Asclepiades credit.[775] Of[Pg 169] Archigenes’ prescriptions for toothache he repeats that which recommended holding for some time in the mouth a frog boiled in water and vinegar, or a dog’s tooth, burnt, pulverized, and boiled in vinegar.[776] Cavities may be filled with toasted earthworms or spiders’ eggs diluted with unguent of nard. Teething infants are benefited, if their gums are moistened with dog’s milk or anointed with hare’s brains.[777] For colic he recommends dried cicadas with three, five, or seven grains of pepper.[778]

Galen's medicinal remedies include the bile of bulls, hyenas, roosters, partridges, and other animals.[771] A digestive oil can be made by cooking foxes and hyenas, some alive and some dead, whole in oil.[772] Galen seriously discusses the relative potency of different animal fats, including those from the goose, hen, hyena, goat, pig, and others.[773] He concludes that lion's fat is by far the strongest, followed by the fat of the leopard. His remedies also feature snake skin, sheepskin, horse lichens, a spider's web,[774] and burnt young swallows, for which he credits Asclepiades.[775] Of[Pg 169] Archigenes' recommendations for toothache, he repeats the one that suggests holding for a while in the mouth a frog boiled in water and vinegar, or a dog's tooth, burnt, powdered, and boiled in vinegar.[776] Cavities can be filled with toasted earthworms or spider eggs mixed with nard ointment. Teething infants can benefit if their gums are dampened with dog’s milk or rubbed with hare’s brains.[777] For colic, he recommends dried cicadas with three, five, or seven grains of pepper.[778]

Some scepticism.

Galen is less confident as to the efficacy for earache of the multipedes which roll themselves up into a ball, and which, cooked in oil, are employed especially by rural doctors.[779] He is still more sceptical whether the liver of a mad dog will cure its bite.[780] Many say so, and he knows of some who have tried it and survived, but they took other remedies too.[781] Galen has heard that some who trusted to it alone died. In one treatise[782] Galen discusses the strange virtues of the basilisk in much the usual way, but in his work on simples[783] he remarks drily that it is obviously impossible to employ it in pharmacy, since, if the tales about it be true, men cannot see it and live or even approach it without danger. He therefore will not include it or elephants or Nile horses (hippopotamuses?) or any other animals of which he has had no personal experience.

Galen is uncertain about the effectiveness of millipedes that curl up into a ball for treating earaches, which rural doctors particularly use after cooking them in oil.[779] He is even more doubtful that a mad dog's liver can cure its bite.[780] Many people claim it works, and he knows some who tried it and survived, but they also used other remedies.[781] Galen has heard of cases where individuals who relied on it alone died. In one treatise[782], Galen talks about the unusual properties of the basilisk in a standard manner, but in his work on simples[783], he dryly notes that it’s clearly impossible to use in pharmacy, since if the stories are true, people cannot see it and live, or even get close to it without risk. Therefore, he will not include it, or elephants, or Nile horses (hippopotamuses?), or any other animals he hasn’t personally encountered.

Doctrine of occult virtue.

Galen tries to find some satisfactory explanation of the strange properties which he believes exist in so many things. The attractive power of the magnet and of drugs suggests to him that nature in us is divine, as Homer says, and leads like to like and thus shows its divine virtues.[784] Galen rejects Epicurus’s explanation of the magnet’s attractive power.[785] It was that the atoms flowing off from both the magnet and iron fit one another so closely that the two sub[Pg 170]stances are drawn together. Galen objects that this does not explain how a whole series of rings can be suspended in a row from a magnet. Galen’s teacher Pelops, who claimed to be able to tell the cause of everything, explained why ashes of river crabs are used for the bite of a mad dog as follows.[786] The crab is efficacious against hydrophobia because it is an aquatic animal. River crabs are better for this purpose than salt water crabs because salt dries up moisture. He also thought the ashes of crabs very potent in absorbing the venom. But this type of reasoning is unsatisfactory to Galen, who finds the best explanation of all such action in the peculiar property, or occult virtue, of the substance as a whole. Upon this subject[787] he proposes to write a separate treatise, and in the fragment De substantia facultatum naturalium (περὶ οὐσίας τῶν φυσικῶν δυνάμεων) he again discusses the matter.[788]

Galen is trying to come up with a satisfying explanation for the strange properties he believes exist in many things. The attractive power of magnets and drugs suggests to him that there's something divine in nature, as Homer mentions, and that similar things attract each other, revealing their divine qualities. Galen dismisses Epicurus's explanation of the magnet's attraction. Epicurus said it was because the atoms coming off both the magnet and iron fit so well together that the two substances pull towards each other. Galen argues that this doesn’t explain why a whole series of rings can hang in a line from a magnet. Galen’s teacher Pelops, who claimed to know the cause of everything, explained that the ashes of river crabs are used for treating rabies because the crab is effective against hydrophobia as it’s an aquatic animal. He believed river crabs were better for this than saltwater crabs because salt dries up moisture. He also thought the ashes of crabs were very powerful in absorbing venom. However, Galen finds this reasoning lacking and believes the best explanation for all these actions lies in the unique property, or hidden virtue, of the substance as a whole. On this topic, he plans to write a separate treatise, and in the fragment De substantia facultatum naturalium (περὶ οὐσίας τῶν φυσικῶν δυνάμεων) he discusses the matter again.

Virtue of the flesh of vipers.

Among parts of animals Galen regarded the flesh of vipers as especially medicinal, particularly as an antidote to poisons. Of the following cures wrought by vipers’ flesh which Galen narrates[789] two were repeated without giving him credit by Aëtius of Amida in the sixth, and Bartholomew of England in the thirteenth century, and doubtless by other writers. When Galen was a youth in Asia, some reapers found a dead viper in their jug of wine and so were afraid to drink any of it. Instead they gave it to a man near by who suffered from the terrible skin disease elephantiasis and whom they thought it would be a mercy to put quietly out of his misery. He drank the wine but instead of dying recovered from his disease. A similarly unexpected cure was effected when a slave wife in Mysia tried to kill her hus[Pg 171]band by offering him a like drink. A third case was that of a patient whom Galen told of these two previous cures. After resorting to augury to learn if he too should try it and receiving a favorable response, the patient drank wine infected by venom with the result that his elephantiasis changed into leprosy, which Galen cured a little later with the usual drugs. A fourth man, while hunting vipers, was stung by one. Galen bled him, extracted black bile with a drug, and then made him eat the vipers which he had caught and which were prepared in oil like eels. A fifth man, warned by a dream, came from Thrace to Pergamum. Another dream instructed him both to drink, and to anoint himself with, a concoction of vipers. This changed his disease into leprosy which in its turn was cured by drugs which the god prescribed.

Among animal parts, Galen believed the flesh of vipers was particularly medicinal, especially as a remedy for poisons. Of the cures involving vipers’ flesh that Galen recounts[789] two were replicated without crediting him by Aëtius of Amida in the sixth century and Bartholomew of England in the thirteenth century, and likely by other authors as well. When Galen was young in Asia, some reapers discovered a dead viper in their jug of wine and were too scared to drink it. Instead, they gave it to a man nearby who had a severe skin disease called elephantiasis, thinking it would be a mercy to end his suffering. He drank the wine and, instead of dying, recovered from his illness. A similarly surprising cure occurred when a slave woman in Mysia tried to poison her husband with a similar drink. A third case involved a patient who heard about these two previous cures. After consulting augury to find out if he should try it as well and getting a positive sign, the patient drank wine tainted with venom and, as a result, his elephantiasis turned into leprosy, which Galen subsequently treated with regular medications. In a fourth instance, a man hunting vipers was bitten by one. Galen bled him, removed black bile with a medication, and then made him eat the vipers he had caught, which were prepared in oil like eels. A fifth man, warned by a dream, traveled from Thrace to Pergamum. Another dream instructed him both to drink and to apply a mixture of vipers to himself. This transformed his illness into leprosy, which was later cured by the drugs prescribed by the god.

Theriac.

The flesh of vipers was an important ingredient in the famous antidote and remedy called theriac, concerning which Galen wrote two special treatises[790] besides discussing it in his works on simples and antidotes. Mithridates, like King Attalus in Galen’s native land, had tested the effects of various drugs upon condemned criminals, and had thus discovered antidotes against spiders, scorpions, sea-hares, aconite, and other poisons. He then combined the results of his research into one grand compound which should be an antidote against any and every poison. But he did not include the flesh of the viper, which was added with some other changes by Andromachus, chief physician to Nero.[791] The divine Marcus Aurelius used to take a dose of theriac daily and it had since come into general use.[792] Galen gives a long list of ills which it will cure, including the plague and hydrophobia,[793] and adds that it is beneficial in keeping a man in good health.[794] He advises its use when traveling or in wintry weather, and tells Piso that it will prolong his life.[795] He explains more than once[796] how to prepare the[Pg 172] viper’s flesh, why the head and tail must be cut off, how it is cleaned and boiled until the flesh falls from the backbone, how it is mixed with pounded bread into pills, how the flesh of the viper is best in early summer. Galen also accepts the legend,[797] quoting six lines of verse from Nicander to that effect, that the viper conceives in the mouth and then bites off the male’s head, and that the young viper avenges its father’s death by gnawing its way out of its mother’s vitals. The Marsi at Rome denied the existence of the dipsas or snake whose bite causes one to die of thirst, but Galen is not quite sure whether to agree with them.

The flesh of vipers was a key ingredient in the well-known antidote and remedy called theriac, which Galen wrote about in two special treatises[790] and also discussed in his works on simples and antidotes. Mithridates, similar to King Attalus in Galen’s homeland, tested different drugs on condemned criminals and discovered antidotes for spiders, scorpions, sea hares, aconite, and other poisons. He then combined his findings into one comprehensive remedy intended to counter any poison. However, he didn't include viper flesh, which was later added along with some other modifications by Andromachus, the chief physician to Nero.[791] The esteemed Marcus Aurelius took a daily dose of theriac, which has since become widely used.[792] Galen provides an extensive list of ailments it can cure, including the plague and hydrophobia,[793] and mentions that it helps maintain good health.[794] He recommends using it when traveling or in cold weather and tells Piso that it will extend his life.[795] He explains multiple times[796] how to prepare the viper's flesh, why the head and tail must be removed, how it is cleaned and boiled until the meat separates from the backbone, how it is mixed with crushed bread to form pills, and that viper flesh is best in early summer. Galen also acknowledges the legend,[797] quoting six lines of verse from Nicander that state the viper gives birth in its mouth, bites off the male’s head, and that the young viper avenges its father’s death by gnawing its way out of its mother’s body. The Marsi in Rome denied the existence of the dipsas or snake whose bite makes one die of thirst, but Galen is uncertain whether to agree with them.

Magical compounds.

Already we have had occasion to refer to Galen’s two works on compound medicines which occupy the better part of two bulky volumes in Kühn’s edition and contain a vast number of prescriptions. It is not uncommon for one of these to contain as many as twenty-five ingredients. It seems unlikely that such elaborate concoctions would have been discovered by chance, as the Empirics held, but the modern reader is ready to agree that it was chance, if anyone was ever cured of anything by one of them. Yet Galen, as we have seen, believes that reasons can be given for the ingredients and would not for a moment admit that they are no better than the messes of witches’ cauldrons. He argues that, if all diseases could be cured by simples, no one would use compounds, but that they are essential for some diseases, especially such as require the simultaneous application of contrary virtues.[798] Also where a simple is too strong or weak, it can be toned up or down to just the right strength in a compound. Plasters and poultices seem always to be compounds. Of panaceas Galen is somewhat more chary, except in the case of theriac; he opines that a medicine which is good for a number of ills cannot be very good for any one of them.[799]

Already, we've had the chance to mention Galen’s two works on compound medicines, which take up most of two large volumes in Kühn’s edition and contain a huge number of prescriptions. It’s not unusual for one of these to have as many as twenty-five ingredients. It seems unlikely that such complex mixtures would have been found by accident, as the Empirics believed, but today’s reader might agree it was luck if anyone was ever helped by one of them. However, as we've seen, Galen believes that valid reasons can be given for the ingredients and wouldn't for a moment accept that they are no better than the brews of witches’ cauldrons. He argues that if all diseases could be treated with simple ingredients, no one would use compounds, but that they are crucial for certain diseases, especially those that require the simultaneous use of opposing qualities. Also, where a simple is too strong or weak, it can be adjusted to just the right strength in a compound. Plasters and poultices always seem to be mixtures. Galen is somewhat more cautious about panaceas, except for theriac; he believes that a medicine that's effective for many ailments can't be very effective for any single one of them.

Amulets.

Procedure as well as substances suggestive of magic is found to some extent in Galen’s works. He instructs, for[Pg 173] example, to pluck an herb with the left hand before sunrise.[800] He also recommends the suspension of a peony to cure epilepsy.[801] He saw a boy who wore this root remain free from that disease for eight months, when the root happened to drop off and the boy soon fell in a fit. When another peony root was hung about his neck, he remained in good health until Galen for the sake of experiment removed it a second time, whereupon another epileptic fit ensued as before. In this case Galen suggests that perhaps some particles from the root were drawn in by the patient’s breathing or altered the surrounding air. In another passage he holds that there is no medical reason to account for the virtues of amulets, but that those who have tested them by experience say that they act by some marvelous antipathy unknown to man.[802] A ligature recommended by Galen is to bind about the neck of the patient a viper which has been suffocated by tying several strings, preferably of marine purple, about its neck.[803] Galen marvels that stercus lupinum, even when simply suspended from the neck, “sometimes evidently is beneficial.”[804] It should not have touched the ground but should have been taken from trees or bushes. It also works better, as Galen has found in his own practice, if suspended by the wool of a sheep who has been torn by a wolf.

Procedure and substances associated with magic can be found to some extent in Galen’s works. He instructs, for[Pg 173] example, to pick an herb with the left hand before sunrise.[800] He also suggests hanging a peony to treat epilepsy.[801] He observed a boy who wore this root remained free from that illness for eight months, but when the root fell off, the boy soon had a seizure. When another peony root was hung around his neck, he stayed healthy until Galen, for the sake of experimentation, removed it a second time, resulting in another seizure as before. In this instance, Galen speculates that perhaps some particles from the root were inhaled by the patient or changed the air around him. In another section, he states that there is no scientific explanation for the properties of amulets, but those who have tried them report that they operate through some mysterious antipathy unknown to humans.[802] A remedy Galen recommends is to tie a suffocated viper around the patient’s neck with several strings, preferably of marine purple.[803] Galen is amazed that stercus lupinum, even when simply hung from the neck, “sometimes clearly proves beneficial.”[804] It should not have touched the ground but needs to be taken from trees or bushes. Galen has also found in his own practice that it works better if it's suspended by the wool of a sheep that has been attacked by a wolf.

Incantations and characters.

While Galen thus employs ligatures and suspensions and sanctions magic logic, he draws the line at use of images, characters, and incantations. In the passage just cited he goes on to say that he has found other suspended substances efficacious, but not the barbarous names such as wizards use. Some say that the gem jasper comforts the stomach if bound about the abdomen,[805] and some wear it in a ring engraved with a dragon and rays,[806] as King Nechepso directs in his fourteenth book. Galen has employed it suspended about the neck without any engraving upon it and[Pg 174] found it equally beneficial. In illustrating the virtue of human saliva, especially that of a fasting man, Galen tells of a man who promised him to kill a scorpion by means of an incantation which he repeated thrice. But at each repetition he spat on the scorpion and Galen afterwards killed one by the same procedure without any incantation, and more quickly with the spittle of a fasting than of a full man.[807]

While Galen uses ligatures and suspensions and endorses magical logic, he does draw the line at using images, symbols, and incantations. In the previously mentioned passage, he states that he has found other suspended substances effective, but not the strange names that wizards use. Some say that the gem jasper soothes the stomach when worn around the abdomen,[805] and some wear it in a ring engraved with a dragon and rays,[806] as instructed by King Nechepso in his fourteenth book. Galen has worn it suspended around his neck without any engraving and[Pg 174] found it just as beneficial. To illustrate the power of human saliva, especially from a fasting man, Galen recounts a story of a man who promised to kill a scorpion using an incantation he repeated three times. But with each repetition, he spat on the scorpion, and Galen later killed one using the same method, doing so more quickly with the saliva of a fasting man than with that of a fed man.[807]

Belief in magic dies hard.

The preceding paragraph gives a good illustration of the slow progress of human thought away from magic and towards science. Men are discovering that marvels can be worked as well without characters and incantations. Similar passages may be found in Arabic and Latin medieval writers. But while Galen questions images and incantations, he still clings to the notions of marvelous virtue in a fasting man’s spittle or in a gem suspended about the neck. And these and other passages in which he clung to old superstitions were unfortunately equally influential upon succeeding writers, who sometimes, we fear, took them as an excuse for further indulgence in magic. Indeed, we shall find Alexander of Tralles in the sixth century arguing that Galen finally became a believer in the efficacy of incantations. Thus the old notions and practices die hard.

The previous paragraph provides a clear example of how slowly human understanding has shifted from magic to science. People are realizing that wonders can happen without spells and rituals. Similar ideas can also be found in writings from medieval Arabic and Latin authors. However, while Galen questions the use of images and incantations, he still holds onto the belief in the strange power of a fasting person's saliva or a gem worn around the neck. Unfortunately, these and other examples of his attachment to outdated superstitions influenced later writers, who sometimes used them as a justification to continue pursuing magic. In fact, we'll see Alexander of Tralles in the sixth century arguing that Galen eventually came to believe in the power of incantations. Clearly, old beliefs and practices are hard to let go of.

On easily procurable remedies.

In the treatise on easily procurable remedies, where popular and rustic remedies enter rather more largely than in Galen’s other writings, superstitious recipes are also met with more frequently, and, if that be possible, the doses become even more calculated to make one’s gorge rise, it being felt that the unfastidious tastes and crude constitutions of peasants and the poorer classes can stand more than daintier city patients. Another reason for separate consideration of the contents of this treatise is the possibility, already mentioned, that it is interpolated and misarranged, and the fact that it is in part of much later date than Galen.

In the discussion on easily available remedies, where common and rustic treatments are covered more extensively than in Galen’s other works, superstitious recipes show up more often, and if it’s even possible, the dosages seem designed to make one nauseous, as it’s understood that the less discerning tastes and tougher bodies of peasants and the poorer population can handle more than the more delicate city dwellers. Another reason to look at this treatise separately is the possibility, as mentioned earlier, that it has been altered and reorganized, and parts of it are from a much later time than Galen.

[Pg 175]

[Pg 175]

Specimens of its superstitious contents.

We must limit ourselves to a hasty survey of a few specimens of its prescriptions. Following Archigenes, ligatures and crowns are employed for headaches.[808] In contrast to Galen’s previous scepticism concerning depilatories for eyebrows we now find a number mentioned, including the blood of a bed-bug.[809] To cure lumbago,[810] if the pain is in the right foot, reduce to powder with your right hand the wings of a swallow. Then make an incision in the swallow’s leg and draw off all its blood. Skin it and roast it and eat it entire. Then anoint yourself all over with the oil for three days and you will marvel at the result. “This has been often proved by experience.” To prevent hair from falling out take many bees and burn them and mix with oil and use as an ointment.[811] For a sty in the eye catch flies, cut off their heads, and rub the sty with the rest of their bodies.[812] A cooked black chameleon performs the double duty of curing toothache and killing mice.[813] To extract a tooth in the upper jaw surround it with the worms found in the tops of cabbages; for a lower tooth use the worms on the lower parts of the leaves.[814] Pain in the intestines will vanish, if the patient drinks water in which his feet have been washed.[815] A net transferred from a woman’s hair to the patient’s head acts as a laxative, especially if the net is first heated.[816] Various superstitious devices are suggested to insure the birth of a child of the sex desired.[817] Bituminous trefoil,[818] boiled and applied hot, cures snake or spider bite, but let no one use it who is not so afflicted or it will make him feel as if he was.[819] For cataract is recommended a mixture of equal parts of mouse’s blood, cock’s gall, and woman’s milk,[Pg 176] dried.[820] For pain on one side of the head or face smear with fifteen earthworms and fifteen grains of pepper powdered in vinegar.[821] To stop a cough wear the tongue of an eagle as an amulet.[822] Wearing a root of rhododendron makes one fearless of dogs and would cure a mad dog itself, if it could be tied on the animal.[823] A “confection” covering three pages is said to prolong life, to have been used by the emperors, and to have enabled Pythagoras, its inventor, who began to make use of it at the age of fifty, to live to be one hundred and seventeen without disease. “And he was a philosopher and unable to lie about it.”[824]

We need to quickly look at a few examples of its recommendations. Following Archigenes, we use ligatures and crowns for headaches.[808] In contrast to Galen’s earlier doubts about hair removal for eyebrows, we now see several options, including bedbug blood.[809] To treat lumbago,[810] if the pain is in your right foot, grind the wings of a swallow to powder with your right hand. Then make a cut in the swallow’s leg and drain all its blood. Skin it, roast it, and eat it whole. After that, rub oil all over yourself for three days and you’ll be amazed at the results. “This has been proven through experience.” To stop hair from falling out, take a lot of bees, burn them, mix with oil, and use it as an ointment.[811] For a sty in the eye, catch flies, cut off their heads, and rub the sty with the remaining parts.[812] A cooked black chameleon not only cures toothaches but also kills mice.[813] To pull a tooth from the upper jaw, surround it with the worms found in the tops of cabbages; for a lower tooth, use the worms from the lower leaves.[814] Pain in the intestines will go away if the patient drinks the water in which their feet have been washed.[815] Transferring a net from a woman’s hair to the patient’s head acts as a laxative, especially if the net is warmed first.[816] Various superstitious methods are suggested to ensure the birth of a child of the desired sex.[817] Bituminous trefoil,[818] boiled and applied hot, cures snake or spider bites, but should not be used by anyone who is not afflicted or it will make them feel like they are.[819] For cataracts, it is recommended to mix equal parts of mouse blood, cock's gall, and woman’s milk,[Pg 176] dried.[820] For pain on one side of the head or face, apply a mixture of fifteen earthworms and fifteen grains of pepper ground in vinegar.[821] To stop a cough, wear an eagle's tongue as an amulet.[822] Wearing a rhododendron root makes someone fearless of dogs and could even cure rabid dogs if tied to them.[823] A “confection” that covers three pages is said to extend life, was used by emperors, and allowed Pythagoras, its creator, who started using it at fifty, to live to one hundred seventeen without illness. “And he was a philosopher and couldn’t lie about it.”[824]

External signs of the temperaments of internal organs.

It remains to note what there is in Galen’s works in the way of divination and astrology. We are not entirely surprised that contemporary doctors confused his medical prognostic with divination, when we read what he has to say concerning the outward signs of hot or cold internal organs. In the treatise, entitled The Healing Art (τέχνη ἰατρική),[825] which Mewaldt says was the most studied of Galen’s works and spread in a vast number of medieval Latin manuscript translations,[826] he devotes a number of chapters to such subjects as signs of a hot and dry heart, signs of a hot liver, and signs of a cold lung. Among the signs of a cold brain are excessive excrements from the head, stiff straight red hair, a late birth, mal-nutrition, susceptibility to injury from cold causes and to catarrh, and somnolence.[827]

It’s worth mentioning what Galen’s works contain regarding divination and astrology. We can understand why contemporary doctors mixed up his medical predictions with divination when we look at what he says about the external signs of hot or cold internal organs. In the treatise titled The Healing Art (τέχνη ἰατρική),[825] which Mewaldt claims was the most studied of Galen’s works and was widely circulated through many medieval Latin manuscript translations,[826] he dedicates several chapters to topics like signs of a hot and dry heart, signs of a hot liver, and signs of a cold lung. For the signs of a cold brain, he includes excessive excretions from the head, stiff straight red hair, late births, malnutrition, vulnerability to injuries from cold causes and to catarrh, and drowsiness.[827]

Marvelous statements repeated by Maimonides.

In his commentary on the Aphorisms of Hippocrates Galen adds other signs by which it may be foretold whether the child will be a boy or girl to those signs already mentioned by Hippocrates.[828] Some of these seem superstitious enough to us. And it was a case of the evil that men do living after them, for Moses Maimonides, the noted Jewish physician of Cordova in the twelfth century, in his collection[Pg 177] of Aphorisms, drawn chiefly from the works of Galen, repeats the following method of prognostication: Puerum cum primo spermatizat perscrutare, quem si invenis habere testiculum dextrum maiorem sinistro, you will know that his first child will be a male, otherwise female. The same may be determined in the case of a girl by a comparison of the size of her breasts. Maimonides also repeats, from Galen’s work to Caesar on theriac,[829] the story of the ugly man who secured a beautiful son by having a beautiful boy painted on the wall and making his wife keep her eyes fixed upon it. Maimonides also repeats from Galen[830] the story of the bear’s licking its unformed cubs into shape.[831]

In his commentary on the Aphorisms of Hippocrates, Galen adds more signs that can indicate whether a child will be a boy or a girl, building on the signs already mentioned by Hippocrates. Some of these might seem quite superstitious to us today. This reflects the lasting impact of earlier beliefs, as Moses Maimonides, the famous Jewish physician from Cordova in the twelfth century, repeats a method of predicting gender in his collection of Aphorisms, largely based on Galen's works. He states, Puerum cum primo spermatizat perscrutare, quem si invenis habere testiculum dextrum maiorem sinistro; if you find the right testicle is larger than the left, you'll know his first child will be male, otherwise female. The same can be determined for a girl by comparing the size of her breasts. Maimonides also shares, from Galen’s work to Caesar on theriac, the story of the ugly man who had a beautiful son by painting a handsome boy on the wall and having his wife keep her eyes on it. Additionally, Maimonides recounts from Galen the story about how a bear licks its unformed cubs into shape.

Dreams.

In another treatise on Diagnosis from Dreams Galen makes a closer approach to the arts of divination.[832] He states that dreams are affected by our daily life and thought, and describes a few corresponding to bodily states or caused by them. He thinks that if you dream you see fire, you are troubled by yellow bile, and if you dream of vapor or darkness, by black bile. In diagnosing dreams one should note when they occurred and what had been eaten. But Galen also believes that to some extent the future can be predicted from dreams, as has been testified, he says, by experience.[833] We have already mentioned the effect of his father’s dream upon Galen’s career. In the Hippocratic commentaries[834] he says that some scorn dreams and omens and signs, but that he has often learned from dreams how to prognosticate or cure diseases. Once a dream instructed him to let blood between the index and great fingers of the right hand until the flow of blood stopped of its own accord. “It is necessary,” he concludes, “to observe dreams accurately both as to what is seen and what is done in sleep in order that you[Pg 178] may prognosticate and heal satisfactorily.” Perhaps he had a dim idea along Freudian lines.

In another work on Diagnosis from Dreams, Galen takes a closer look at the art of divination.[832] He argues that dreams are influenced by our daily lives and thoughts, and he describes a few dreams that relate to physical states or are caused by them. He believes that if you dream of fire, it indicates a problem with yellow bile, and if you dream of mist or darkness, it suggests an issue with black bile. When interpreting dreams, it's important to note when they happened and what you ate. However, Galen also thinks that to some extent, the future can be predicted from dreams, as experience has shown, he claims.[833] We've already mentioned how his father's dream impacted Galen’s career. In the Hippocratic commentaries[834], he notes that some people dismiss dreams, omens, and signs, but he has often learned how to predict or treat diseases from dreams. Once, a dream advised him to bleed a patient between the index and middle fingers of the right hand until the blood flow stopped on its own. “It is necessary,” he concludes, “to accurately observe dreams both in terms of what is seen and what happens in sleep to effectively predict and heal.” Perhaps he had a vague idea that aligns with Freudian concepts.

Lack of astrology in most of Galen’s medicine.

In the ordinary run of Galen’s pharmacy and therapeutics there is very little mention or observance of astrological conditions, although Hippocrates is cited as having said that a study of geometry and astronomy—which may well mean astrology—is essential in medicine.[835] In the De methodo medendi he often urges the importance of the time of year, the region, and the state of the sky.[836] But this expression seems to refer to the weather rather than to the position of the constellations. The dog-star is also occasionally mentioned,[837] and one passage[838] tells how “Aeschrion the Empiric, ... an old man most experienced in drugs and our fellow citizen and teacher,” burned live river crabs on a plate of red bronze after the rise of the dog-star when the sun entered Leo and on the eighteenth day of the moon. We are also informed that many Romans are in the habit of taking theriac on the first or fourth day of the moon.[839] But Galen ridicules Pamphilus for his thirty-six sacred herbs of the horoscope—or decans, taken from an Egyptian Hermes book.[840] On the other hand, one of his objections to the atomists is that “they despise augury, dreams, portents, and all astrology,” as well as that they deny a divine artificer of the world and an innate moral law to the soul.[841] Thus atheism and disbelief in astrology are put on much the same plane.

In the typical practice of Galen’s pharmacy and treatments, there’s very little mention or consideration of astrological factors, even though Hippocrates is said to have noted that studying geometry and astronomy—which could also mean astrology—is crucial in medicine. In the De methodo medendi, he frequently emphasizes the importance of the season, the location, and the state of the sky. However, this seems more about the weather than the positions of the stars. The dog-star is sometimes mentioned, and one passage describes how “Aeschrion the Empiric, ... an old man very experienced in drugs and our fellow citizen and teacher,” burned live river crabs on a red bronze plate after the rise of the dog-star when the sun entered Leo and on the eighteenth day of the moon. We also learn that many Romans tend to take theriac on the first or fourth day of the moon. But Galen mocks Pamphilus for his thirty-six sacred herbs of the horoscope—or decans, taken from an Egyptian Hermes book. On the other hand, one of his criticisms of the atomists is that “they look down on augury, dreams, omens, and all astrology,” as well as their denial of a divine creator of the world and an inherent moral law for the soul. Thus, atheism and disbelief in astrology are seen as being on a similar level.

The Prognostication of Disease by Astrology.

Whereas there is so little to suggest a belief in astrology in most of Galen’s works, we find among them two devoted especially to astrological medicine, namely, a treatise on critical days in which the influence of the moon upon disease is assumed, and the Prognostication of Disease by Astrology. In the latter he states that the Stoics favored astrology, that Diodes Carystius represented the ancients[Pg 179] as employing the course of the moon in prognostications, and that, if Hippocrates said that physicians should know physiognomy, they ought much more to learn astrology, of which physiognomy is but a part.[842] There follows a statement of the influence of the moon in each sign of the zodiac and in its relations to the other planets.[843] On this basis is foretold what diseases a man will have, what medical treatment to apply, whether the patient will die or not, and if so in how many days. This treatise is the same as that ascribed in many medieval manuscripts to Hippocrates and translated into Latin by both William of Moerbeke and Peter of Abano.

Whereas there's very little indicating a belief in astrology in most of Galen’s writings, there are two that focus specifically on astrological medicine: a treatise on critical days that assumes the moon's influence on disease, and the Prognostication of Disease by Astrology. In the latter, he mentions that the Stoics supported astrology, that Diodes Carystius claimed the ancients used the moon's course for predictions, and that if Hippocrates argued that physicians should understand physiognomy, they should definitely learn astrology, as physiognomy is just a part of it.[Pg 179] Following this is a description of the moon's influence in each zodiac sign and its relationships with the other planets. Based on this, predictions are made about what diseases a person will develop, what medical treatments to use, whether the patient will survive, and if not, how many days they have left. This treatise is the same as the one attributed in many medieval manuscripts to Hippocrates and translated into Latin by both William of Moerbeke and Peter of Abano.

Critical days.

The treatise on critical days discusses them not by reason or dogma, lest sophists befog the plain facts, but solely, we are told, upon the basis of clear experience.[844] Having premised that “we receive the force of all the stars above,”[845] the author presents indications of the especially great influence of sun and moon. The latter he regards not as superior to the other planets in power, but as especially governing the earth because of its nearness.[846] He then discusses the moon’s phases, holding that it causes great changes in the air, rules conceptions and birth, and “all beginnings of actions.”[847] Its relations to the other planets and to the signs of the zodiac are also considered and much astrological technical detail is introduced.[848] But the Pythagorean theory that the numbers of the critical days are themselves the cause of their significance in medicine is ridiculed, as is the doctrine that odd numbers are masculine and even numbers feminine.[849] Later the author also ridicules those who talk of seven Pleiades and seven stars in either Bear and the seven gates of Thebes or seven mouths of the Nile.[850] Thus he will not accept the doctrine of perfect or magic numbers along with his astrological theory. Much of this rather[Pg 180] long treatise is devoted to a discussion of the duration of a moon, and it is shown that one of the moon’s quarters is not exactly seven days in length and that the fractions affect the incidence of the critical days.

The treatise on critical days talks about them not through logic or dogma, to avoid confusing the clear facts with sophistry, but purely, as we're told, based on straightforward experience. Having stated that “we receive the influence of all the stars above,” the author highlights the particularly strong impact of the sun and moon. He views the moon not as more powerful than the other planets, but as having a special governance over the earth because of its proximity. He then examines the moon’s phases, asserting that it brings significant changes in the atmosphere, governs conception and birth, and initiates “all beginnings of actions.” Its connections to other planets and to the zodiac signs are also discussed, and a lot of astrological jargon is incorporated. However, the Pythagorean idea that the numbers of the critical days are inherently significant in medicine is mocked, along with the belief that odd numbers are masculine and even numbers are feminine. Later, the author also mocks those who speak of seven Pleiades and seven stars in either the Big Dipper or the seven gates of Thebes or the seven mouths of the Nile. Thus, he rejects the belief in perfect or magical numbers alongside his astrological theory. Much of this rather long treatise is focused on the duration of a moon phase, showing that one of the moon’s quarters is not exactly seven days long and that the variations influence the occurrence of the critical days.

On the history of philosophy.

A treatise on the history of philosophy, which is marked “spurious” in Kühn’s edition, I have also discovered among the essays of Plutarch where, too, it is classed as spurious.[851] In some ways it is suggestive of the middle ages. After an account of the history of Greek philosophy somewhat in the style of the brief reviews of the same to be found in the church fathers, it adds a sketch of the universe and natural phenomena not dissimilar to some medieval treatises of like scope. There are chapters on the universe, God, the sky, the stars, the sun, the moon, the magnus annus, the earth, the sea, the Nile, the senses, vision and mirrors, hearing, smell and taste, the voice, the soul, breathing, the processes of generation, and so on.

A treatise on the history of philosophy, labeled "spurious" in Kühn’s edition, I also found among Plutarch's essays where it is likewise categorized as spurious.[851] In some ways, it reflects medieval thought. After a summary of the history of Greek philosophy similar to the brief overviews found in the writings of the church fathers, it includes a description of the universe and natural phenomena that resembles some medieval texts of similar nature. There are chapters on the universe, God, the sky, the stars, the sun, the moon, the magnus annus, the earth, the sea, the Nile, the senses, vision and mirrors, hearing, smell and taste, the voice, the soul, breathing, the processes of reproduction, and so on.

Divination and demons.

In discussing divination[852] the treatise states that Plato and the Stoics attributed it to God and to divinity of the spirit in ecstasy, or to interpretation of dreams or astrology or augury. Xenophanes and Epicurus denied it entirely. Pythagoras admitted only divination by haruspices or by sacrifice. Aristotle and Dicaearchus admit only divination by enthusiasm and by dreams. For although they deny that the human soul is immortal, they think that there is something divine about it. Herophilus said that dreams sent by God must come true. Other dreams are natural, when the mind forms images of things useful to it or about to happen to it. Still others are fortuitous or mere reflections of our desires. The treatise also takes up the subject of heroes and demons.[853] Epicurus denied the existence of[Pg 181] either, but Thales, Plato, Pythagoras, and the Stoics agree that demons are natural substances, while heroes are souls separate from bodies, and are good or bad according to the lives of the men who lived in those bodies.

In discussing divination[852], the treatise states that Plato and the Stoics believed it came from God or from the divine nature of the spirit in ecstasy, or from the interpretation of dreams, astrology, or augury. Xenophanes and Epicurus completely rejected it. Pythagoras accepted only divination by haruspices or through sacrifice. Aristotle and Dicaearchus acknowledged only divination through enthusiasm and dreams. Although they deny that the human soul is immortal, they believe there is something divine about it. Herophilus claimed that dreams sent by God must come true, while other dreams are natural, formed by the mind reflecting on useful things or events that are about to happen. Some dreams are just random or mere reflections of our wishes. The treatise also addresses the topic of heroes and demons.[853] Epicurus denied the existence of either, but Thales, Plato, Pythagoras, and the Stoics agree that demons are natural substances, whereas heroes are souls separated from bodies and are considered good or bad based on the lives of the people who inhabited those bodies.

Celestial bodies.

The treatise also gives the opinions of various Greek philosophers on the question whether the universe or its component spheres are either animals or animated. Fate is defined on the authority of Heracleitus as “the heavenly body, the seed of the genesis of all things.”[854] The question is asked why babies born after seven months live, while those born after eight months die.[855] On the other hand, a very brief discussion of how the stars prognosticate does not go into particulars beyond their indication of seasons and weather, and even this Anaximenes ascribed to the effect of the sun alone.[856] Philolaus the Pythagorean is quoted concerning some lunar water about the stars[857] which reminds one of the waters above the firmament in the first chapter of Genesis.

The treatise also presents the views of various Greek philosophers on whether the universe or its individual spheres are living beings or animated. Fate is described, based on the ideas of Heracleitus, as “the heavenly body, the seed of the genesis of all things.”[854] The text raises the question of why babies born after seven months survive, while those born after eight months do not.[855] Additionally, there is a very brief discussion on how the stars predict events, but it only mentions their role in indicating seasons and weather, which Anaximenes attributed solely to the sun’s influence.[856] Philolaus the Pythagorean is referenced regarding some lunar water connected to the stars[857] that evokes the waters above the firmament in the first chapter of Genesis.


[Pg 182]

[Pg 182]

CHAPTER V
ANCIENT APPLIED SCIENCE AND MAGIC: VITRUVIUS, HERO, AND THE GREEK ALCHEMISTS

The sources—Vitruvius depicts architecture as free from magic—But himself believes in occult virtues and perfect numbers—Also in astrology—Divergence between theory and practice, learning and art—Evils in contemporary learning—Authorities and inventions—Machines and Ctesibius—Hero of Alexandria—Medieval working over of the texts—Hero’s thaumaturgy—Instances of experimental proof—Magic jugs and drinking animals—Various automatons and devices—Magic mirrors—Astrology and occult virtue—Date of extant Greek alchemy—Legend that Diocletian burned the books of the alchemists—Alchemists’ own accounts of the history of their art—Close association of Greek alchemy with magic—Mystery and allegory—Experiment: relation to science and philosophy.

The sources—Vitruvius describes architecture as free from magic—But he himself believes in hidden powers and perfect numbers—Also in astrology—There’s a gap between theory and practice, learning and art—Issues in modern learning—Authorities and inventions—Machines and Ctesibius—Hero of Alexandria—The medieval revising of the texts—Hero’s miracle-working—Examples of experimental proof—Magic jugs and drinking animals—Various automatons and devices—Magic mirrors—Astrology and hidden powers—Date of existing Greek alchemy—The legend that Diocletian burned the alchemists' books—The alchemists’ own accounts of their art's history—The close connection between Greek alchemy and magic—Mystery and allegory—Experiment: its relation to science and philosophy.

doctum ex omnibus solum neque in alienis locis peregrinum ... sed in omni civitate esse civem.

educated from all places and not a stranger in foreign lands ... but to be a citizen in every city.

Vitruvius, VI, Introd. 2.

Vitruvius, VI, Intro. 2.

The sources.

This chapter will examine what may be called ancient applied science and its relations to magic, taking observations at three different points, the ten books of Vitruvius on architecture, the collection of writings which pass under the name of Hero of Alexandria, and the compositions of the Greek alchemists. The remains of Greek and Roman literature in the field of applied science are scanty, not because they were not treasured, and even added to, by the periods following, but apparently because there had thus far been so little development in the way of machinery or of power other than manual and animal. So we must make the best of what we have. The writings to be considered are none of them earlier than the period of the Roman Empire but[Pg 183] like other writings of that time they more or less reflect the scientific achievements or the occult lore of the preceding Hellenistic period.

This chapter will look into what can be called ancient applied science and its connections to magic, examining three key sources: Vitruvius's ten books on architecture, the collection of works attributed to Hero of Alexandria, and the writings of the Greek alchemists. The remnants of Greek and Roman literature in applied science are limited, not because they weren't valued or even expanded upon by later periods, but seemingly because there had been minimal advancement in machinery or power beyond manual and animal methods. So, we’ll have to make the most of what we have. The writings we will discuss are all from the period of the Roman Empire, but like other writings from that era, they reflect the scientific accomplishments or the mystical knowledge from the earlier Hellenistic period.[Pg 183]

Vitruvius depicts architecture as free from magic.

Vitruvius lived just at the beginning of the Empire under Julius and Augustus Caesar. He is not much of a writer, but architecture as set forth in his book appears sane, straightforward, and solid. The architect is represented as going about his business with scarcely any admixture of magical procedure or striving after marvelous results. The combined guidance of practical utility and of high standards of art—Vitruvius stresses reality and propriety now and again, and has little patience with mere show—perhaps accounts for this high degree of freedom from superstition. Perhaps permanent building is an honest, downright, open, constructive art where error is at once apparent and superstition finds little hold. If so, one wonders how there came to be so much mystery enveloping Free-Masonry. At any rate, not only in his building directions, but even in his instructions for the preparation of lime, stucco, and bricks, or his discussion of colors, natural and artificial, Vitruvius seldom or never embodies anything that can be called magical.[858]

Vitruvius lived right at the start of the Empire under Julius and Augustus Caesar. He isn't much of a writer, but the architecture he talks about in his book seems rational, straightforward, and solid. He portrays the architect as someone doing his job with hardly any hint of magic or chasing after extraordinary outcomes. The blend of practical usefulness and high artistic standards—Vitruvius often emphasizes reality and appropriateness and has little tolerance for mere show—likely explains his remarkable lack of superstition. It seems that permanent building is a genuine, honest, straightforward, constructive art where mistakes are obvious, and superstition struggles to take hold. If that's the case, one might wonder why there's so much mystery around Free-Masonry. In any case, not only in his building guidelines but also in his instructions for making lime, stucco, and bricks, or his discussions on colors, both natural and artificial, Vitruvius rarely, if ever, includes anything that could be considered magical.[858]

Occult virtue and number.

This is the more noteworthy because passages in the very same work show him to have accepted some of the theories which we have associated with magic. Thus he appears to believe in occult virtues and marvelous properties of things in nature, since he affirms that, while Africa in general abounds in serpents, no snake can live within the boundaries of the African city of Ismuc, and that this is a property of the soil of that locality which it retains when exported.[859] Vitruvius also mentions some marvelous waters. One[Pg 184] breaks every metallic receptacle and can be retained only in a mule’s hoof. Some springs intoxicate; others take away the taste for wine. Others produce fine singing voices.[860] Vitruvius furthermore speaks of six and ten as perfect numbers and contends that the human body is symmetrical in the sense that the distances between the different parts are exact fractions of the whole.[861] He also tells how the Pythagoreans composed books on the analogy of the cube, allowing in any one treatise no more than three books of 216 lines each.[862]

This is particularly significant because passages in the same work show that he accepted some of the theories we now associate with magic. He seems to believe in the hidden qualities and amazing properties of things in nature, as he claims that, while Africa generally has many snakes, no snake can survive within the limits of the African city of Ismuc, which he attributes to a unique property of that soil that it retains even when exported.[859] Vitruvius also talks about some extraordinary waters. One[Pg 184] can break every metal container and can only be held in a mule’s hoof. Some springs cause intoxication; others diminish the appetite for wine. Others grant beautiful singing voices.[860] Vitruvius further describes six and ten as perfect numbers and argues that the human body is symmetrical so that the distances between its different parts are exact fractions of the whole.[861] He also explains how the Pythagoreans wrote books based on the analogy of the cube, allowing no more than three books of 216 lines each in any one treatise.[862]

Astrology.

Vitruvius also more than once implies his confidence in the art of astrology. In mapping out the ground-plan of his theater he advises inscribing four equilateral triangles within the circumference of a circle, “as the astrologers do in a figure of the twelve signs of the zodiac, when they are making computations from the musical harmony of the stars.”[863] I cannot make out that there is any astrological significance or magical virtue in this so far as the arrangement of the theater is concerned, but it shows that Vitruvius and his readers are familiar with the technique of astrology and the trigona of the signs. In another passage, comparing the physical characteristics and temperaments of northern and southern races, which astrologers generally interpreted as evidence of the influence of the constellations upon mankind, Vitruvius patriotically contends that the inhabitants of Italy, and especially the Romans, represent a happy medium between north and south, combining the greater courage of the northerners with the keener intellects of the southerners, just as the planet Jupiter is a golden mean between the extreme influences of Mars and Saturn. So the Romans are fitted for world rule, overcoming barbarian valor by their superior intelligence and the devices of the southerners by their valor.[864] In a third passage Vitruvius says more expressly of the art of astrology: “As for the branch of[Pg 185] astronomy which concerns the influences of the twelve signs, the five stars, the sun, and the moon upon human life, we must leave all this to the calculations of the Chaldeans, to whom belongs the art of casting nativities, which enables them to declare the past and the future by means of calculations based on the stars. These discoveries have been transmitted by men of genius and great acuteness who sprang directly from the nations of the Chaldeans; first of all, by Berosus, who settled in the island state of Cos, and there opened a school. Afterwards Antipater pursued the subject; then there was Archinapolus, who also left rules for casting nativities, based not on the moment of birth but on that of conception.” After listing a number of natural philosophers and other astronomers and astrologers, Vitruvius concludes: “Their learning deserves the admiration of mankind; for they were so solicitous as even to be able to predict, long beforehand, with divining mind, the signs of the weather which was to follow in the future.”[865]

Vitruvius also repeatedly shows his belief in astrology. When planning the layout of his theater, he suggests inscribing four equilateral triangles within the circumference of a circle, “like the astrologers do in a figure of the twelve signs of the zodiac when making calculations based on the musical harmony of the stars.”[863] I can't see any astrological significance or magical virtue in this regarding the theater's design, but it indicates that Vitruvius and his readers are familiar with the methods of astrology and the trigona of the signs. In another section, while comparing the physical traits and temperaments of northern and southern races—commonly interpreted by astrologers as a reflection of the constellations' influence on people—Vitruvius proudly argues that the people of Italy, especially the Romans, strike a happy balance between the north and south, blending the greater courage of northern individuals with the sharper intellects of southerners, similar to how the planet Jupiter represents a golden mean between the extreme influences of Mars and Saturn. This means the Romans are suited for world leadership, overcoming barbarian bravery through their superior intelligence and the tactics of the southerners with their courage.[864] In a third section, Vitruvius speaks more directly about astrology: “Regarding the part of astronomy that involves the influences of the twelve signs, the five stars, the sun, and the moon on human life, we must leave this to the calculations of the Chaldeans, who excel in the art of casting nativities, allowing them to predict the past and future through star-based calculations. These insights have been passed down by brilliant and insightful individuals who came from the Chaldean nations; starting with Berosus, who established a school in the island state of Cos. Then Antipater studied the subject; following him was Archinapolus, who also left instructions for casting nativities, based not on the moment of birth but on that of conception.” After naming several natural philosophers and other astronomers and astrologers, Vitruvius concludes: “Their knowledge deserves the admiration of humanity; for they were so dedicated that they could even predict, long in advance, with their intuitive insights, the signs of weather to come.”[865]

Divergence between theory and practice, learning and art.

Such a passage demonstrates plainly enough Vitruvius’ full confidence in the art of casting nativities and of weather prediction, but it has no integral connection with his practical architecture or even any necessary connection with the construction of a sun-dial, which is what he is actually driving at. But Vitruvius believed that an architect should not be a mere craftsman but broadly educated in history, medicine, and philosophy, geometry, music, and astronomy, in order to understand the origin and significance of details inherited from the art of the past, to assure a healthy building, proper acoustics, and the like. It is in an attempt to air his learning and in the theoretical portions of his work that he is prone to occult science. But the practical processes of architecture and military engineering are free from it.

Such a passage clearly shows Vitruvius’ complete confidence in the art of astrology and weather forecasting, but it doesn’t directly relate to his practical architecture or even the construction of a sundial, which is his main focus. Vitruvius believed that an architect shouldn’t just be a skilled tradesperson but should also be well-rounded in history, medicine, philosophy, geometry, music, and astronomy. This education helps them understand the origin and significance of design details passed down from previous art, ensuring a healthy building, good acoustics, and similar factors. In trying to showcase his knowledge and in the theoretical sections of his work, he tends to delve into mystical sciences. However, the practical aspects of architecture and military engineering are free from this.

Evils in contemporary learning.

The attitude of Vitruvius towards other architects of his own age, to past authorities, and to personal experimentation is of interest to note, and roughly parallels the attitude of Galen in the field of medicine. Like Galen he com[Pg 186]plains that the artist must plunge into the social life of the day in order to gain professional success and recognition.[866] “And since I observe that the unlearned rather than the learned are held in high favor, deeming it beneath me to struggle for honors with the unlearned, I will rather demonstrate the virtue of our science by this publication.”[867] He also objects to the self-assertion and advertising of themselves in which many architects of his time indulge.[868] He recognizes, however, that the state of affairs was much the same in time past, since he tells a story how the Macedonian architect, Dinocrates, forced himself upon the attention of Alexander the Great solely by his handsome and stately appearance,[869] and since he asserts that the most famous artists of the past owe their celebrity to their good fortune in working for great states or men, while other artists of equal merit are seldom heard of.[870] He also speaks of those who plagiarize the writings of others, especially of the men of the past.[871] But all this does not lead him to despair of art and learning; rather it confirms him in the conviction that they alone are really worth while, and he quotes several philosophers to that effect, including the saying of Theophrastus that “the learned man alone of all others is no stranger even in foreign lands ... but is a citizen in every city.”[872]

The way Vitruvius views other architects from his time, past experts, and personal experimentation is interesting to note and is somewhat similar to Galen's perspective in medicine. Like Galen, he points out that artists need to engage with contemporary society to achieve professional success and recognition. “And since I see that the uneducated, rather than the educated, are more highly regarded, thinking it beneath me to compete for honors with the uneducated, I would rather showcase the value of our discipline through this publication.” He also criticizes the self-promotion and advertising habits of many architects of his day. However, he acknowledges that this situation has always existed, as he recounts the story of the Macedonian architect, Dinocrates, who drew Alexander the Great's attention solely through his impressive appearance, and he insists that the most celebrated artists of the past achieved fame mainly due to their luck in working for powerful states or influential people, while equally talented artists seldom get recognized. He also mentions those who plagiarize the works of others, especially those from the past. However, none of this leads him to lose hope in art and learning; instead, it reinforces his belief that these pursuits are truly valuable, and he cites several philosophers to support this idea, including Theophrastus's saying that “the educated person, unlike others, is never a stranger even in foreign lands ... but is a citizen in every city.”

Authorities and inventions.

In contradistinction to the plagiarists Vitruvius expresses his deep gratitude to the men of the past who have written books, and gives lists of his authorities,[873] and declares that “the opinions of learned authors ... gain strength as time[Pg 187] goes on.”[874] “Relying upon such authorities, we venture to produce new systems of instruction.”[875] Or, as he says in discussing the properties of waters, “Some of these things I have seen for myself, others I have found written in Greek books.”[876] But in describing sun-dials he frankly remarks, “I will state by whom the different classes and designs of dials have been invented. For I cannot invent new kinds myself at this late day, nor do I think that I ought to display the inventions of others as my own.”[877] He also gives an account of a number of notable miscellaneous discoveries and experiments by past mathematicians and physicists.[878] Also he sometimes repeats the instruction which he had received from his teachers. Like Pliny a little later he thinks that in some respects artistic standards have been lowered in his own time, notably in fresco-painting.[879] But also, like Galen, he once admits that there are still good men in his own profession besides himself, affirming that “our architects in the old days, and a good many even in our own times, have been as great as those of the Greeks.”[880] He describes a basilica which he himself had built at Fano.[881]

In contrast to the plagiarists, Vitruvius expresses his deep gratitude to the thinkers of the past who have written books, provides lists of his sources, and states that “the opinions of learned authors ... gain strength as time goes on.” “Relying upon such authorities, we dare to create new systems of instruction.” Or, as he mentions when discussing the properties of water, “Some of these things I have seen for myself, others I have found written in Greek books.” But when describing sundials, he frankly notes, “I will tell you who invented the different types and designs of dials. For I cannot create new kinds myself at this late date, nor do I think it’s right to present the inventions of others as my own.” He also recounts several significant discoveries and experiments by past mathematicians and physicists. He sometimes repeats the teachings he received from his teachers. Like Pliny a little later, he believes that in some ways artistic standards have fallen during his time, especially in fresco painting. But, like Galen, he admits that there are still talented individuals in his profession aside from himself, asserting that “our architects in the old days, and quite a few even in our own times, have been as great as those of the Greeks.” He describes a basilica that he built in Fano.

Machines and Ctesibius.

Vitruvius’s last book is devoted to machines and military engines. Here he makes a feeble effort to introduce the factor of astrological influence, asserting that “all machinery is derived from nature, and is founded on the teaching and instruction of the revolution of the firmament.”[882] Among the devices described is the pump of Ctesibius of Alexandria, the son of a barber.[883] He had already been mentioned in the preceding book[884] for the improvements which he introduced in water-clocks, especially regulating their flow according to the changing length of the hours of the day in summer and winter. Vitruvius also asserts that he constructed the first water organs, that he “discovered[Pg 188] the natural pressure of the air and pneumatic principles, ... devised methods of raising water, automatic contrivances, and amusing things of many kinds, ... blackbirds singing by means of waterworks, and angobatae, and figures that drink and move, and other things that have been found to be pleasing to the eye and the ear.”[885] Vitruvius states that of these he has selected those that seemed most useful and necessary and that the reader may turn to Ctesibius’s own works for those which are merely amusing. Pliny more briefly mentions the invention of pneumatics and water organs by Ctesibius.[886]

Vitruvius's final book focuses on machines and military devices. In it, he makes a weak attempt to incorporate the idea of astrological influence, claiming that "all machinery comes from nature and is based on the teachings and guidance of the movements of the heavens." [882] Among the devices he describes is the pump designed by Ctesibius of Alexandria, who was the son of a barber. [883] He had already been mentioned in the previous book [884] for the improvements he made to water clocks, especially in regulating their flow according to the changing lengths of day during summer and winter. Vitruvius also claims that he constructed the first water organs and that he "discovered[Pg 188] the natural pressure of air and pneumatic principles, ... created methods for raising water, automatic mechanisms, and entertaining devices of various kinds, ... blackbirds singing with the help of waterworks, and angobatae, and figures that drink and move, along with other things that are enjoyable to see and hear." [885] Vitruvius mentions that he has selected those that appear most useful and necessary, and that readers can refer to Ctesibius's own works for those that are simply for amusement. Pliny briefly notes Ctesibius's inventions related to pneumatics and water organs. [886]

Hero of Alexandria.

This characterization by Vitruvius of the writings of Ctesibius also applies with astonishing fitness to some of the works current under the name of Hero of Alexandria,[887] who is indeed in a Vienna manuscript of the Belopoiika spoken of as the disciple or follower of Ctesibius.[888] Hero, however, is not mentioned either by Vitruvius or Pliny, and it is now generally agreed as a result of recent studies that he belongs to the second century of our era.[889] His writings are objective and impersonal and tell us much less about himself than Vitruvius’s introductions to the ten books of De architectura.[Pg 189] The similarity in content of his writings to those of the much earlier Ctesibius as well as the character of his terminology suggest that he stands at the end of a long development. He speaks of his own discoveries, but perhaps in the main simply continues and works over the previous principles and mechanisms of men like Ctesibius. As things stand, however, his works constitute our most important, and often our only, source for the history of exact science and of technology in antiquity.[890]

This description by Vitruvius of Ctesibius's writings also fittingly applies to some works attributed to Hero of Alexandria, who is indeed referred to in a Vienna manuscript of the Belopoiika as the student or follower of Ctesibius. However, Hero is not mentioned by either Vitruvius or Pliny, and recent studies widely agree that he lived in the second century AD. His writings are objective and impersonal, revealing much less about himself compared to Vitruvius’s introductions in the ten books of De architectura.[Pg 189] The similarities between his writings and those of the much earlier Ctesibius, along with the nature of his terminology, suggest that he is at the end of a long development. He discusses his own discoveries, but mainly continues to adapt and revise the principles and mechanisms established by earlier thinkers like Ctesibius. As it stands, his works are our most vital, and often our only, source for the history of exact science and technology in ancient times.[890]

Medieval working over of the texts.

Not only does Hero seem to have been in large measure a compiler and continuer of previous science, his works also have evidently been worked over and added to in subsequent periods and bear marks of the Byzantine, Arabian, and medieval Latin periods as well as of the Hellenistic and Roman. Indeed Heiberg regards the Geometry and De stereometricis and De mensuris as later Byzantine collections which have perhaps made some use of the works of Hero, while the De geodaesia is an epitome of, or extract from, a pseudo-Heronic collection. The Catoptrica is known only from the Latin translation of 1269, probably by William of Moerbeke, and long known as Ptolemy on Mirrors. It appears, however, to be directly translated from the Greek and not from the Arabic. The Mechanics, on the other hand, is known only from the Arabic translation by Costa ben Luca. Of the Pneumatics we have Greek, Arabic, and Latin versions. It was apparently known to the author of the thirteenth century Summa philosophiae ascribed to Robert Grosseteste, since he speaks of the investigations of vacuums made by “Hero, that eminent philosopher, with the aid of water-clocks, siphons, and other instruments.”[891] Scholars are of the opinion that the Arabic adaptation, which is of popular character and limited to the entertaining side, comes closer to the original Greek version of Hero’s time than does the Latin version which devotes more attention to experimental physics. The Automatic Theater, for which there is the same[Pg 190] chief manuscript as for the Pneumatics, also seems to have been worked over and added to a great deal.

Not only does Hero seem to primarily be a compiler and extender of earlier science, but his works have clearly also been revised and expanded in later periods, showing influences from the Byzantine, Arabic, and medieval Latin eras, along with the Hellenistic and Roman times. Indeed, Heiberg views the Geometry, De stereometricis, and De mensuris as later Byzantine collections that possibly drew on Hero's works, whereas the De geodaesia is a summary or excerpt from a pseudo-Heronic compilation. The Catoptrica is only known from the Latin translation from 1269, likely by William of Moerbeke, and was long referred to as Ptolemy on Mirrors. However, it seems to have been translated directly from Greek, not Arabic. In contrast, the Mechanics is only known through the Arabic translation by Costa ben Luca. We have Greek, Arabic, and Latin versions of the Pneumatics. It was probably known to the author of the thirteenth-century Summa philosophiae, attributed to Robert Grosseteste, as he mentions the studies of vacuums conducted by “Hero, that distinguished philosopher, using water clocks, siphons, and other instruments.” Scholars believe the Arabic adaptation, which has a popular flavor and focuses more on entertaining aspects, is closer to Hero’s original Greek version than the Latin translation, which emphasizes experimental physics more. The Automatic Theater, which shares the same main manuscript as the Pneumatics, also seems to have undergone significant revision and enhancement.

Hero’s thaumaturgy.

From Vitruvius’s allusions to the works of Ctesibius and from a survey of those works current under Hero’s name which are chiefly concerned with mechanical contrivances and devices, the modern reader gets the impression that, aside from military engines and lifting appliances, the science of antiquity was applied largely to purposes of entertainment rather than practical usefulness. However, in Hero’s case at least there is something more than this. His apparatus and experiments are not intended so much to divert as to deceive the spectator, and not so much to amuse as to astound him. The mechanism is usually concealed; the cause acts indirectly, intermediately, or from a distance to produce an apparently marvelous result. It is a case of thaumaturgy, as Hero himself says,[892] of apparent magic. In fine, the experimental and applied scientist is largely interested in vying with the feats of the magicians or supplying the temples and altars of religion with pseudo-miracles.

From Vitruvius's references to the works of Ctesibius and from looking at the works known under Hero's name, which mainly focus on mechanical devices, the modern reader gets the impression that, apart from military equipment and lifting tools, the science of ancient times was mostly aimed at entertainment rather than practical use. However, in Hero's case, there’s more to it. His devices and experiments are meant not just to entertain but to trick the viewer, and not just to amuse but to amaze them. The mechanisms are typically hidden; the effects occur indirectly, at an intermediate stage, or from afar to create a seemingly incredible outcome. It’s a case of thaumaturgy, as Hero himself puts it, [892] of apparent magic. Ultimately, the experimental and applied scientist is mostly focused on competing with the tricks of magicians or providing temples and altars with pseudo-miracles.

Instances of experimental proof.

The introduction or proemium to the Pneumatics is rather more truly scientific and has been called an unusual instance in antiquity of the use as proof of purposive observation of nature and experiment. Thus the existence of air is demonstrated by the experiment of pressing an inverted vessel, kept carefully upright, into water, which will not enter the vessel because of the resistance offered by the air already within the vessel. Or the elasticity of air and the existence of empty spaces between its particles is shown by the experiment of blowing more air into a globe through a siphon, and then holding one’s finger over the orifice. As soon as the finger is removed the surplus air rushes out with a loud report. Along with such admirable experimental proof, however, the introduction contains some astonishingly erroneous assertions, such as that “slime and mud are transformations of water into earth,” and that air released from[Pg 191] a vessel under water “is transformed so as to become water.” Hero believes that heat and light rays are particles of matter which penetrate the interstices between the particles composing air and water.

The introduction to the Pneumatics is genuinely scientific and is considered a rare example from ancient times of using purposeful observation of nature and experimentation as proof. For instance, the presence of air is demonstrated by the experiment of pressing an upside-down container, held carefully upright, into water, which won't enter the container due to the resistance from the air already inside. Additionally, the elasticity of air and the existence of empty spaces between its particles are shown by the experiment of blowing more air into a globe through a siphon and then covering the opening with a finger. As soon as the finger is removed, the excess air rushes out with a loud sound. However, along with this impressive experimental evidence, the introduction also contains some surprisingly incorrect claims, such as that “slime and mud are transformations of water into earth,” and that air released from a vessel underwater “is transformed to become water.” Hero believes that heat and light rays are particles of matter that pass through the gaps between the particles in air and water.

Magic jugs and drinking animals.

The Pneumatics consist of some seventy-eight theorems or experiments or tricks, call them what you will, which in different manuscripts and editions are variously grouped in a single book or two books. The same idea or method, however, is often repeated in the different chapters. Thus we encounter over half a dozen times the magic water-jar or drinking horn from which either wine or water or a mixture of both can be poured, or a choice of other liquids. And in all these cases the explanation of the trick is the same. When the air-hole in the top of the vessel is closed so that no air can enter, the liquid will not flow out through the narrow orifice in the bottom. Changes are rung on this principle by means of inner compartments and connecting tubes. Different kinds of siphons, the bent, the enclosed, and the uniform discharge, are described in the opening chapters and are utilized in working the ensuing wonders, such as statues of animals which drink water offered to them, inexhaustible goblets or those that will not overflow, and harmonious jars. By this last expression is meant pairs of vessels, secretly connected by tubes and so arranged that nothing will flow from one until the other is filled, when wine will pour from one jar and water from the other. Or when water is poured into one jar, wine or mixed wine and water flows from the other. Or, when water is drawn off from one jar, wine flows from the other. Other vessels are made to commence or cease to pour out wine or water, when a little water is poured in. Others will receive no more water once you have ceased pouring it in, no matter how little may have been poured in, or, when you cease for a moment to pour water in and then begin again, will not resume their outpour until half full. In another case the water will not flow out of a hole in the bottom of the vessel at all until the vessel is entirely filled. Others are made[Pg 192] to flow by dropping a coin in a slot or working a lever, or turning a wheel. In the last case the vessel of water is concealed behind the entrance column of a temple. In one magic drinking horn the flow of water from the bottom is checked by putting a cover over the open top. When another pitcher is tipped up, the same amount of liquid will always flow out.

The Pneumatics includes about seventy-eight theorems, experiments, or tricks—call them what you like—that are organized differently across various manuscripts and editions, either in one book or two. However, the same idea or method often appears multiple times in different chapters. For instance, we see the magic water-jug or drinking horn more than half a dozen times, which can pour out either wine, water, or a mix of both, along with other liquid options. In all these cases, the explanation for the trick remains the same. When the air hole at the top of the vessel is sealed off so that no air can get in, the liquid won't flow out through the narrow opening at the bottom. This principle is twisted in various ways using inner compartments and connecting tubes. Different types of siphons—bent, closed, and uniform discharge—are outlined in the opening chapters and are used to create the subsequent surprises, like statues of animals that drink water offered to them, endless goblets that don’t overflow, and harmonious jars. This last term refers to pairs of vessels secretly connected by tubes, designed so that nothing flows from one until the other is filled; then wine pours from one jar and water from the other. Alternatively, when water is poured into one jar, wine or a mix of wine and water flows from the other. Or, when water is drawn off from one jar, wine flows from the other. Other vessels can start or stop pouring out wine or water based on just a little water being poured in. Some won’t take in any more water once you stop pouring, no matter how little was poured in, or if you take a brief pause and start pouring again, they won’t resume pouring until they are half full. In other cases, water won’t flow out of a hole at the bottom of the vessel until it’s completely filled. Some will flow when you drop a coin in a slot, pull a lever, or turn a wheel. In the last example, the vessel of water is hidden behind the entrance column of a temple. In one magic drinking horn, the flow of water from the bottom is stopped by covering the open top. When another pitcher is tilted, the same amount of liquid will always pour out.

Various automatons and devices.

In half a dozen chapters mechanical birds are made to sing by driving air through a pipe by the pressure of flowing water. In other chapters a dragon is made to hiss and a thyrsus to whistle by similar methods. By the force of compressed air water is made to spurt forth and automatons to sound trumpets. The heat of the sun’s rays is used to warm air which expands and causes water to trickle out. In a number of cases as long as a fire burns on an altar the expansion of enclosed air caused thereby opens temple doors by the aid of pulleys, or causes statues to pour libations, dancing figures to revolve, and a serpent to hiss. The force of steam is used to support a ball in mid-air, revolve a sphere, and make a bird sing or a statue blow a horn. Inexhaustible lamps are described as well as inexhaustible goblets, and a self-trimmed lamp in which a float resting on the oil turns a cog-wheel which pushes up the wick as it and the oil are consumed. Floats and cog-wheels are also used in some of the tricks already mentioned. In another the flow of a liquid from a vessel is regulated by a float and a lever. Cog-wheels are also employed in constructing the neck of an automaton so that it can be cut completely through with a knife and yet the head not be severed from the body. A cupping glass, a syringe, a fire engine pump with valves and pistons, a hydraulic organ and one worked by wind pretty much exhaust the contents of the Pneumatics. In its introduction Hero alludes to his treatise in four books on water-clocks, but this is not extant. Hero’s water-organ is regarded as more primitive than that described by Vitruvius.[893]

In six chapters, mechanical birds are made to sing by pushing air through a pipe using the pressure from flowing water. In other chapters, a dragon hisses and a thyrsus whistles using similar techniques. Compressed air forces water to spray out and automatons to sound trumpets. The sun's heat warms the air, causing it to expand and water to drip out. In many cases, as long as a fire burns on an altar, the expansion of trapped air opens temple doors with the help of pulleys, makes statues pour libations, allows dancing figures to spin, and makes a serpent hiss. Steam is used to hold a ball in mid-air, rotate a sphere, and make a bird sing or a statue blow a horn. There are descriptions of endless lamps and endlessly full goblets, as well as a self-adjusting lamp where a float resting on the oil turns a cogwheel that raises the wick as both oil and wick are consumed. Floats and cogwheels are also used in some of the previously mentioned tricks. In another trick, the flow of liquid from a vessel is controlled by a float and lever. Cogwheels are used in building the neck of an automaton so that it can be completely cut through with a knife while keeping the head attached to the body. A cupping glass, a syringe, a fire engine pump with valves and pistons, a hydraulic organ, and one powered by wind pretty much summarize the contents of the Pneumatics. In the introduction, Hero mentions his treatise in four books on water clocks, but this work is not available. Hero's water organ is considered to be simpler than the one described by Vitruvius.[893]

Magic mirrors.

If magic jugs and marvelous automatons make up most of the contents of the Pneumatics and Automatic Theater,[Pg 193] comic and magic mirrors play a prominent part in the Catoptrics. The spectator sees himself upside down, with three eyes, two noses, or an otherwise distorted countenance. By means of two rectangular mirrors which open and close on a common axis Pallas is made to spring from the head of Zeus. Instructions are given how to place mirrors so that the person approaching will see no reflection of himself but only whatever apparition you select for him to see. Thus a divinity can be made suddenly to appear in a temple. Clocks are also described where figures appear to announce the hours.

If magic jugs and amazing robots make up most of the content in the Pneumatics and Automatic Theater,[Pg 193] funny and magical mirrors play a key role in the Catoptrics. The viewer sees themselves upside down, with three eyes, two noses, or a different distorted face. Using two rectangular mirrors that pivot on a common axis, Pallas appears to spring from Zeus's head. Instructions are provided on how to arrange mirrors so that the person approaching sees no reflection of themselves, but only whatever image you want them to see. This way, a deity can suddenly appear in a temple. Clocks are also detailed, where figures seem to emerge to announce the hours.

Astrology and occult virtue.

Hero displays a slight tendency in the direction of astrology, discussing the music of the spheres in the first chapters of the Catoptrics, and in the Pneumatics describing an absurdly simple representation of the cosmos by means of a small sphere placed in a circular hole in the partition between two halves of a transparent sphere of glass. One hemisphere is to be filled with water, probably in order to support the ball in the center.[894] The marvelous virtues of animals other than automatons are rather out of his line, but he alludes to the virtue of the marine torpedo which can penetrate bronze, iron, and other bodies.

Hero shows a slight interest in astrology, talking about the music of the spheres in the first chapters of the Catoptrics. In the Pneumatics, he describes a ridiculously simple model of the universe using a small sphere placed in a circular hole in the barrier between two halves of a clear glass sphere. One hemisphere is supposed to be filled with water, likely to keep the ball centered. [894] He doesn't really focus on the amazing qualities of animals besides automatons, but he mentions the power of the marine torpedo, which can pierce through bronze, iron, and other materials.

Date of extant Greek alchemy.

Although we have seen some indications of its earlier existence in Egypt, alchemy seems to have made its appearance in the ancient Greek-speaking and Latin world only at a late date. There seems to be no allusion to the subject in classical literature before the Christian era, the first mention being Pliny’s statement that Caligula made gold from orpiment.[895] The papyri containing alchemistic texts are of[Pg 194] the third century, and the manuscripts containing Greek works of alchemy, of which the oldest is one of the eleventh century in the Library of St. Mark’s, seem to consist of works or remnants of works written in the third century and later, many being Byzantine compilations, excerpts, or additions. Also Syncellus, the polygraph of the eighth century, gives some extracts from the alchemists.

Although we've seen some signs of its earlier existence in Egypt, alchemy seems to have emerged in the ancient Greek and Latin world only much later. There doesn't appear to be any mention of the topic in classical literature before the Christian era, with the first reference being Pliny’s remark that Caligula turned orpiment into gold.[895] The papyri that contain alchemical texts date back to the third century, and the manuscripts with Greek alchemical works, the oldest of which is from the eleventh century in the Library of St. Mark’s, appear to be works or parts of works written in the third century and later, many of which are Byzantine compilations, excerpts, or additions. Additionally, Syncellus, an eighth-century polymath, provides some extracts from the alchemists.

Legend that Diocletian burned the books of the alchemists.

Syncellus and other late writers[896] are our only extant sources for the statement that Diocletian burned the books of the alchemists in Egypt, so that they might not finance future revolts against him. If the report be true, one would fancy that the imperial edict would be more effective as a testimonial to the truth of transmutation in encouraging the art than it would be in discouraging it by destroying a certain amount of its literature. Thus the edict would resemble the occasional laws of earlier emperors banishing the astrologers—except their own—from Rome or Italy because they had been too free in predicting the death of the emperor, which only serve to show what a hold astrology had both on emperors and people. But the report concerning Diocletian sounds improbable on the face of it and must be doubted for want of contemporary evidence. Certainly we are not justified in explaining the air of secrecy so often assumed by writers on alchemy as due to the fear of persecution which this action of Diocletian[897] or the fear of being accused of magic aroused in them. Persons who wish to keep matters secret do not rush into publication, and the air of secrecy of the alchemists is too often evidently assumed for purposes of[Pg 195] show and to impress the reader with the idea that they really have something to hide. Sometimes the alchemists themselves realize that this adoption of an air of secrecy has been overdone. Thus Olympiodorus wrote in the early fifth century, “The ancients were accustomed to hide the truth, to veil or obscure by allegories what is clear and evident to everybody.”[898] Nor can we accept the story of Diocletian’s burning the books of alchemy as the reason why none have reached us which can be certainly dated as earlier than the third century.

Syncellus and other later writers are our only existing sources that claim Diocletian burned the books of the alchemists in Egypt to prevent them from funding future uprisings against him. If this report is true, one might think that the imperial edict would serve more as proof of the truth of transmutation, encouraging the practice rather than discouraging it by destroying some of its literature. The edict would be similar to the occasional laws of earlier emperors banning astrologers—except their own—from Rome or Italy because they had been too open in predicting the emperor's death, which only showed how much influence astrology had on both emperors and the public. However, the story about Diocletian seems unlikely at first glance and should be doubted due to a lack of contemporary evidence. Certainly, we can't assume that the secrecy often attributed to alchemy writers is due to the fear of persecution from Diocletian's actions or the fear of being accused of magic. Those who want to keep things secret don't rush to publish, and the secrecy associated with alchemists often seems to be exaggerated for show, meant to impress readers with the idea that they have something to hide. Sometimes, even the alchemists themselves recognize that this aura of secrecy is overdone. For instance, Olympiodorus wrote in the early fifth century, “The ancients were accustomed to hide the truth, to veil or obscure by allegories what is clear and evident to everybody.” We also cannot accept the story of Diocletian burning the books of alchemy as the reason why none have survived that can be definitely dated before the third century.

Alchemists’ own accounts of the history of their art.

The alchemists themselves, of course, claimed for their art the highest antiquity. Zosimus of Panopolis, who seems to have written in the third century, says that the fallen angels instructed men in alchemy as well as in the other arts, and that it was the divine and sacred art of the priests and kings of Egypt, who kept it secret. We also have an address of Isis to her son Horus repeating the revelation made by Amnael, the first of the angels and prophets. To Moses are ascribed treatises on domestic chemistry and doubling the weight of gold.[899] The manuscripts of the Byzantine period discuss what “the ancients” meant by this or that, or purport to repeat what someone else said of some other person. Zosimus seems fond of citing himself in the texts reproduced by Berthelot, so that it may be questioned how much of his original works has been preserved. Hermes is often cited by the alchemists, although no work of alchemy ascribed to him has reached us from this early period. To Agathodaemon is ascribed a commentary on the oracle of Orpheus addressed to Osiris, dealing with the whitening and[Pg 196] yellowing of metals and other alchemical recipes. Other favorite authorities are Ostanes, whom we have elsewhere heard represented as the introducer of magic into the Greek world, and the philosopher Democritus, whom the alchemists represent as the pupil of Ostanes and whom we have already heard Pliny charge with devotion to magic. Seneca says in one of his letters that Democritus discovered a process to soften ivory, that he prepared artificial emerald, and colored vitrified substances. Diogenes Laertius ascribes to him a work on the juices of plants, on stones, minerals, metals, colors, and coloring glass. This was possibly the same as the four books on coloring gold, silver, stones, and purple ascribed to Democritus by Synesius in the fifth, and Syncellus in the eighth, century. More recent presumably than Ostanes and Democritus are the female alchemists, Cleopatra and Mary the Jewess, although one text represents Ostanes and his companions as conversing with Cleopatra. A few of the spurious works ascribed to these authors may have come into existence as early as the Hellenistic period, but those which have reached us, at least in their present form, seem to bear the marks of the Christian era and later centuries of the Roman Empire, if not of the early medieval and Byzantine periods. And those authors whose names seem genuine: Zosimus, Synesius, Olympiodorus, Stephanus, are of the third, fourth and fifth centuries, at the earliest.

The alchemists themselves claimed that their practice is extremely ancient. Zosimus of Panopolis, who seems to have written in the third century, states that fallen angels taught humans about alchemy along with other arts, and that it was the divine and sacred craft of the priests and kings of Egypt, who kept it secret. We also have a message from Isis to her son Horus that repeats the revelation made by Amnael, the first of the angels and prophets. Treatises on domestic chemistry and methods for doubling the weight of gold are attributed to Moses. The manuscripts from the Byzantine era discuss what "the ancients" meant by this or that and attempt to repeat what someone else said about another person. Zosimus seems to enjoy citing himself in the texts reproduced by Berthelot, raising questions about how much of his original works have been preserved. Hermes is frequently referenced by the alchemists, even though no alchemical work attributed to him has survived from this early period. Agathodaemon is said to have written a commentary on the oracle of Orpheus addressed to Osiris, which covers the whitening and yellowing of metals and other alchemical recipes. Other well-known figures include Ostanes, who we’ve previously seen as the one who brought magic into the Greek world, and the philosopher Democritus, whom the alchemists consider as Ostanes’ student and whom Pliny accused of being devoted to magic. Seneca mentions in one of his letters that Democritus discovered a method to soften ivory, made artificial emeralds, and colored vitrified substances. Diogenes Laertius credits him with a work on plant juices, stones, minerals, metals, colors, and coloring glass. This might have been the same as the four books on coloring gold, silver, stones, and purple that Synesius in the fifth century and Syncellus in the eighth century attributed to Democritus. The female alchemists, Cleopatra and Mary the Jewess, likely came after Ostanes and Democritus, although one text portrays Ostanes and his companions as talking with Cleopatra. A few of the questionable works attributed to these authors may date back to the Hellenistic period, but the ones we've received, at least in their current form, seem to show influences from the Christian era and later centuries of the Roman Empire, if not from the early medieval and Byzantine periods. The authors whose names seem legitimate—Zosimus, Synesius, Olympiodorus, Stephanus—are from the third, fourth, and fifth centuries, at the earliest.

Close association of Greek alchemy with magic.

The associations of the names above cited and the fact that pseudo-literature forms so large a part of the early literature of alchemy suggest its close connection at that time with magic. Whereas Vitruvius, although not personally inhospitable to occult theory, showed us the art of architecture free from magic, and Hero told how to perform apparent magic by means of mechanical devices and deceits, the Greek alchemists display entire faith in magic procedure with which their art is indissolubly intermingled. Indeed the papyri in which works of alchemy occur are primarily magic papyri, so that alchemy may be said to spring from the brow of magic. The same is only somewhat less true of the manuscripts. In[Pg 197] the earliest one of the eleventh century the alchemy is in the company of a treatise on the interpretation of dreams, a sphere of divination of life or death, and magic alphabets. The treatises of alchemy themselves are equally impregnated with magic detail. Cleopatra’s art of making gold employs concentric circles, a serpent, an eight-rayed star, and other magic figures. Physica et mystica, ascribed to Democritus, after a purely technical fragment on purple dye, invokes his master Ostanes from Hades, and then plunges into alchemical recipes. There are also frequent bits of astrology and suggestions of Gnostic influence. Often the encircling serpent Ouroboros, who bites or swallows his tail, is referred to.[900] Sometimes the alchemist puts a little gold into his mixture to act as a sort of nest egg, or mother of gold, and encourage the remaining substance to become gold too.[901] Or we read in a work ascribed to Ostanes of “a divine water” which “revives the dead and kills the living, enlightens obscurity and obscures what is clear, calms the sea and quenches fire. A few drops of it give lead the appearance of gold with the aid of God, the invisible and all-powerful....”[902]

The connections between the names mentioned above and the fact that pseudo-literature makes up a significant part of early alchemical literature indicate a close link to magic at that time. While Vitruvius, who didn't outright reject occult theories, presented architecture as separate from magic, and Hero explained how to create the illusion of magic using mechanical devices and tricks, the Greek alchemists fully embraced magical practices, intertwining them with their art. In fact, the papyrus containing alchemical works is mainly a collection of magical texts, suggesting that alchemy emerged from the realm of magic. This is also somewhat true for the manuscripts. In the earliest one from the eleventh century, alchemy is found alongside a treatise on interpreting dreams, a form of divination concerning life and death, and magical alphabets. The alchemical texts themselves are infused with magical details. Cleopatra’s method for making gold includes concentric circles, a serpent, an eight-pointed star, and other magical symbols. Physica et mystica, attributed to Democritus, starts with a technical section on purple dye, calls upon his master Ostanes from Hades, and then dives into alchemical recipes. There are also numerous mentions of astrology and signs of Gnostic influence. The encircling serpent Ouroboros, which bites or swallows its tail, is frequently referenced. [900] Sometimes the alchemist adds a bit of gold to the mix to act as a kind of seed, or “mother of gold,” to inspire the rest of the material to turn into gold as well.[901] In a text attributed to Ostanes, we find mentions of “a divine water” that “revives the dead and kills the living, illuminates darkness and obscures clarity, calms the sea and extinguishes fire. A few drops of it can make lead appear as gold with the help of God, the unseen and all-powerful....”[902]

Mystery and allegory.

These early alchemists are also greatly given to mystery and allegory. “Touch not the philosopher’s stone with your hands,” warns Mary the Jewess, “you are not of our race, you are not of the race of Abraham.”[903] In a tract concerning the serpent Ouroboros we read, “A serpent is stretched out guarding the temple. Let his conqueror begin by sacrifice, then skin him, and after having removed his flesh to the very bones, make a stepping-stone of it to enter the temple. Mount upon it and you will find the object sought. For the priest, at first a man of copper, has changed his color and nature and become a man of silver; a few days later, if you wish, you will find him changed into a man of gold.”[904] Or in the preparation of the aforesaid divine[Pg 198] water Ostanes tells us to take the eggs of the serpent of oak who dwells in the month of August in the mountains of Olympus, Libya, and the Taurus.[905] Synesius tells that Democritus was initiated in Egypt at the temple of Memphis by Ostanes, and Zosimus cites the instruction of Ostanes, “Go towards the stream of the Nile; you’ll find there a stone; cut it in two, put in your hand, and take out its heart, for its soul is in its heart.”[906] Zosimus himself often resorts to symbolic jargon to obscure his meaning, as in the description of the vision of a priest who was torn to pieces and who mutilated himself.[907] He, too, personifies the metals and talks of a man of gold, a tin man, and so on.[908] A brief example of his style will have to suffice, as these allegories of the alchemists are insufferably tedious reading. “Finally I had the longing to mount the seven steps and see the seven chastisements, and one day, as it chanced, I hit upon the path up. After several attempts I traversed the path, but on my return I lost my way and, profoundly discouraged, seeing no way out, I fell asleep. In my dream I saw a little man, a barber, clothed in purple robe and royal raiment, standing outside the place of punishment, and he said to me....”[909] When Zosimus was not dreaming dreams and seeing visions, he was usually citing ancient authorities.

These early alchemists were also very much into mystery and symbolism. "Don't touch the philosopher's stone with your hands," warns Mary the Jewess, "you aren't one of us, you're not of the race of Abraham."[903] In a text about the serpent Ouroboros, we find, "A serpent lies coiled, guarding the temple. Let whoever wants to conquer him start with a sacrifice, then skin him, and after removing his flesh to the very bones, make a stepping-stone out of it to enter the temple. Step on it, and you will find what you're looking for. For the priest, who begins as a man of copper, has changed color and nature and become a man of silver; a few days later, if you want, you will find him transformed into a man of gold."[904] Or, when preparing the aforementioned divine[Pg 198] water, Ostanes tells us to take the eggs of the oak serpent that lives in the mountains of Olympus, Libya, and Taurus during the month of August.[905] Synesius mentions that Democritus was initiated in Egypt at the temple of Memphis by Ostanes, and Zosimus refers to Ostanes's instruction: "Go towards the stream of the Nile; you’ll find a stone there; split it in two, put your hand inside, and take out its heart, for its soul is in its heart."[906] Zosimus often uses symbolic language to disguise his meaning, as seen in the story of a priest who was torn apart and mutilated.[907] He, too, describes metals as people, speaking of a man of gold, a tin man, and so on.[908] A brief example of his style will have to do, as these alchemical allegories are incredibly tedious to read. "Eventually I felt the urge to climb the seven steps and witness the seven punishments, and one day, by chance, I found the path upward. After several tries, I made it up the path, but on my way back, I lost my way and, feeling utterly discouraged and seeing no way out, I fell asleep. In my dream, I saw a little man, a barber, dressed in a purple robe and royal clothes, standing outside the place of punishment, and he said to me...."[909] When Zosimus wasn't dreaming dreams and having visions, he was usually quoting ancient authorities.

Experimentation in alchemy: relation to science and philosophy.

At the same time even these early alchemists cannot be denied a certain scientific character, or at least a connection with natural science. Behind alchemy existed a constant experimental progress. “Alchemy,” said Berthelot, “rested upon a certain mass of practical facts that were known in antiquity and that had to do with the preparation of metals, their alloys, and that of artificial precious stones; it had there an experimental side which did not cease to progress during the entire medieval period until positive modern chemistry emerged from it.”[910] The various treatises of the Greek alchemists describe apparatus and experiments which are real[Pg 199] but with which they associated results which were impossible and visionary. Their theories of matter seem indebted to the earlier Greek philosophers, while in the description of nature Berthelot noted a “direct and intimate” relation between them and the works of Dioscorides, Vitruvius, and Pliny.[911]

At the same time, even these early alchemists had a certain scientific quality, or at least a link to natural science. Behind alchemy was a continual process of experimentation. “Alchemy,” said Berthelot, “was based on a body of practical knowledge known in ancient times that involved the preparation of metals, their alloys, and the creation of artificial gemstones; it had an experimental aspect that continued to advance throughout the entire medieval period until modern chemistry emerged from it.” [910] The various writings of the Greek alchemists describe real apparatus and experiments[Pg 199], but they connected them to outcomes that were impossible and fantastical. Their theories about matter seem to owe a debt to earlier Greek philosophers, while Berthelot pointed out a “direct and close” connection between them and the works of Dioscorides, Vitruvius, and Pliny.[911]


[Pg 200]

[Pg 200]

CHAPTER VI
PLUTARCH’S ESSAYS

Themes of ensuing chapters—Life of Plutarch—Superstition in Plutarch’s Lives—His Morals or Essays—Question of their authenticity—Magic in Plutarch—Essay on Superstition—Plutarch hospitable toward some superstitions—The oracles of Delphi and of Trophonius—Divination justified—Demons as mediators between gods and men—Demons in the moon: migration of the soul—Demons mortal: some evil—Men and demons—Relation of Plutarch’s to other conceptions of demons—The astrologer Tarrutius—De fato—Other bits of astrology—Cosmic mysticism—Number mysticism—Occult virtues in nature—Asbestos—On Rivers and Mountains—Magic herbs—Stones found in plants and fish—Virtues of other stones—Fascination—Animal sagacity and remedies—Theories and queries about nature—The Antipodes.

Themes of the upcoming chapters—Life of Plutarch—Superstition in Plutarch’s Lives—His Morals or Essays—Question of their authenticity—Magic in Plutarch—Essay on Superstition—Plutarch's openness to certain superstitions—The oracles of Delphi and Trophonius—Divination explained—Demons as intermediaries between gods and humans—Demons in the moon: soul migration—Demons are mortal: some are evil—Relations between humans and demons—Plutarch's ideas compared to other beliefs about demons—The astrologer Tarrutius—De fato—Additional elements of astrology—Cosmic mysticism—Number mysticism—Hidden powers in nature—Asbestos—On Rivers and Mountains—Magical herbs—Stones found in plants and fish—Properties of other stones—Fascination—Animal intelligence and remedies—Theories and questions about nature—The Antipodes.

Themes of ensuing chapters.

Having noted the presence of magic in works so especially devoted to natural science as those of Pliny, Galen, and Ptolemy, we have now to illustrate the prominence both of natural science and of magic in the life and thought of the Roman Empire by a consideration of some writers of a more miscellaneous character, who should reflect for us something of the interests of the average cultured reader of that time. Of this type are Plutarch, Apuleius and Philostratus, whom we shall consider in the coming chapters in the order named, which also roughly corresponds to their chronological sequence.

Having observed the role of magic in works focused on natural science, like those of Pliny, Galen, and Ptolemy, we now need to explore the significance of both natural science and magic in the life and thoughts of the Roman Empire by looking at some writers with a broader range of topics. These writers should give us insight into the interests of the average cultured reader of that time. Among them are Plutarch, Apuleius, and Philostratus, who we will discuss in the following chapters in the order mentioned, which also loosely matches their chronological sequence.

Life of Plutarch.

Plutarch flourished during the reigns of Trajan and Hadrian at the turn of the first and second centuries, but The Letter on the Education of a Prince to Trajan[912] probably is not by him, and the legend that Hadrian was his pupil is a medieval invention. He was born in Boeotia about 46-48 A. D. and was educated in rhetoric and philosophy, science and mathematics, at Athens, where he was a student[Pg 201] when Nero visited Greece in 66 A. D. He also made several visits to Rome and resided there for some time. He held various public positions in the province of Achaea and in his small native town of Chaeronea, and had official connections with the Delphic oracle and amphictyony. Artemidorus in the Oneirocriticon states that Plutarch’s death was foreshadowed in a dream.[913]

Plutarch thrived during the reigns of Trajan and Hadrian at the turn of the first and second centuries, but The Letter on the Education of a Prince to Trajan[912] is probably not written by him, and the story that Hadrian was his student is a medieval fabrication. He was born in Boeotia around 46-48 A.D. and was educated in rhetoric and philosophy, science and mathematics, in Athens, where he was a student[Pg 201] when Nero visited Greece in 66 A.D. He also made several trips to Rome and lived there for a while. He held various public roles in the province of Achaea and in his small hometown of Chaeronea, and he had official connections with the Delphic oracle and amphictyony. Artemidorus in the Oneirocriticon claims that Plutarch’s death was predicted in a dream.[913]

Superstition in Plutarch’s Lives.

With Plutarch’s celebrated Lives of Illustrious Men, as with narrative histories in general, we shall not be much concerned, although they of course abound in omens and portents, in bits of pseudo-science which details in his narrative bring to the mind of the biographer, and in cases of divination and magic. Thus theories are advanced to explain why birds dropped dead from mid-air at the shout set up by the Greeks at the Isthmian games when Flamininus proclaimed their freedom. Or we are told how Sulla received from the Chaldeans predictions of his future greatness, how in the dedication to his Memoirs he admonished Lucullus to trust in dreams, and how Lucullus’s mind was deranged by a love philter administered by his freedman in the hope of increasing his master’s affection towards him.[914] Such allusions and incidents abound also of course in Dio Cassius, Tacitus, and other Roman historians.

With Plutarch’s famous Lives of Illustrious Men, just like with narrative histories overall, we won't focus too much on them, even though they are full of omens and signs, bits of pseudo-science that the biographer brings to mind in his storytelling, and examples of divination and magic. For instance, theories are put forth to explain why birds fell dead from the sky when the Greeks cheered during the Isthmian games when Flamininus declared their freedom. Or we learn how Sulla received predictions of his future success from the Chaldeans, how in the introduction to his Memoirs he advised Lucullus to trust in dreams, and how Lucullus’s mind was thrown into disarray by a love potion given to him by his freedman in hopes of making his master love him more. [914] Such references and stories are also, of course, common in Dio Cassius, Tacitus, and other Roman historians.

His Morals or Essays.

But we shall be concerned rather with Plutarch’s other writings, which are usually grouped together under the title of Morals, or, more appropriately, Miscellanies and Essays. Not only is there great variety in their titles, but in any given essay the attention is usually not strictly held to one theme or problem but the discussion diverges to other points. Some are by their very titles and form rambling dialogues, symposiacs, and table-talk, where the conversation lightly flits from one topic to other entirely different ones, never dwelling for long upon any one point and never re[Pg 202]turning to its starting-point. This dinner-table and drinking-bout type of cultured and semi-learned discourse has other extant ancient examples such as the Attic Nights of Aulus Gellius and the Deipnosophists of Athenaeus, but Plutarch will have to serve as our main illustration of it. His Essays reflect in motley guise and disordered array the fruits of extensive reading and a retentive memory in ancient philosophy, science, history, and literature.

But we’re going to focus more on Plutarch’s other writings, which are usually collected under the title Morals, or more fittingly, Miscellanies and Essays. Not only do they have a wide range of titles, but in any given essay, the focus isn’t strictly on one theme or problem; the discussion often wanders to other points. Some of them, by their very titles and structure, are meandering dialogues, symposiums, and casual conversations, where the chat lightly hops from one topic to completely different ones, never sticking around for long on any single point and never going back to where it started. This type of cultured and somewhat learned discussion, akin to dinner-table and drinking-bout exchanges, has other existing ancient examples like the Attic Nights of Aulus Gellius and the Deipnosophists of Athenaeus, but Plutarch will be our main example of this style. His Essays showcase, in a colorful and chaotic manner, the results of extensive reading and a strong memory in ancient philosophy, science, history, and literature.

Question of their authenticity.

The authenticity of some of the essays attributed to him has been questioned, and very likely with propriety, but for our purpose it is not important that they should all be by the same author so long as they represent approximately the same period and type of literature. The spurious treatise, De placitis philosophorum, we have already considered in the chapter on Galen, to whom it has also been ascribed. The essay On Rivers and Mountains we shall treat by itself in the present chapter. The De fato has also been called spurious.[915] Superstitious content is not a sufficient reason for denying that a treatise is by Plutarch,[916] since he is superstitious in writings of undoubted genuineness and since we have found the leading scientists of the time unable to exclude superstition from their works entirely. Moreover, many of the essays are in the form of conversations expressing the divergent views of different speakers, and it is not always possible to tell which shade of opinion Plutarch himself favors. Suffice it that the views expressed are those of men of education.

The authenticity of some of the essays attributed to him has been questioned, and likely for good reason, but for our purposes, it doesn’t matter if they’re all by the same author as long as they roughly represent the same time period and type of literature. We already looked at the dubious treatise, De placitis philosophorum, in the chapter on Galen, to whom it has also been credited. We will discuss the essay On Rivers and Mountains separately in this chapter. The De fato has also been considered questionable. Superstitious content isn’t a good enough reason to dismiss a treatise as being by Plutarch, since he includes superstition in works that are definitely genuine and since we’ve found that prominent scientists of the time couldn’t completely eliminate superstition from their writings. Furthermore, many of the essays are structured as conversations that show the different views of various speakers, and it’s not always clear which viewpoint Plutarch personally supports. It’s enough to say that the opinions expressed are from educated individuals.

Magic in Plutarch.

Plutarch does not specifically discuss magic under that name at any length in any of his essays, but does treat of[Pg 203] such subjects as superstition in general, dreams, oracles, demons, number, fate, the craftiness of animals, and other “natural questions.” Certain vulgar forms of magic, at least, were regarded by him with disapproval or incredulity.[917] He rejects as a fiction the statement that the women of Thessaly can draw down the moon by their spells, but thinks that the notion perhaps originated in the fact or story that Aglaonice, daughter of Hegetor, was so skilful in astrology or astronomy as to be able to foresee the occurrence of lunar eclipses, and that she deluded the people into believing that at such times she brought down the moon from heaven by charms and enchantments.[918] Thus we have one more instance of the union of magic and science, this time of pseudo-magic with real science as at other times of magic with pseudo-science.

Plutarch doesn’t really discuss magic by that name in detail in any of his essays, but he addresses topics like superstition in general, dreams, oracles, demons, numbers, fate, the cleverness of animals, and other “natural questions.” At least some common forms of magic were viewed by him with skepticism or disbelief. He dismisses as a myth the claim that the women of Thessaly can pull down the moon with their spells, but he thinks this idea might have come from the fact that Aglaonice, daughter of Hegetor, was so skilled in astrology or astronomy that she could predict lunar eclipses and tricked people into thinking she was bringing the moon down from the sky with her charms and enchantments. This gives us another example of the connection between magic and science, in this case, pseudo-magic alongside real science, similar to other instances where magic and pseudo-science overlap.

Essay on superstition.

The essay entitled περὶ δεισιδαιμονίας deals with superstition in the usual Greek sense of dread or excessive fear of demons and gods. We are accustomed to think of Hellenic paganism as a cheerful faith, full of naturalism, in which the gods were humanized and made familiar. Plutarch apparently regards normal religion as of this sort, and attacks the superstitious dread of the supernatural. He contends that such fear is worse, if anything, than atheism, for it makes men more unhappy and is an equal offense against the divinity, since it is at least as bad to believe ill of the gods as not to believe in them at all. Nothing indeed encourages the growth of atheism so much as the absurd practices and beliefs of such superstitious persons, “their words and[Pg 204] motions, their sorceries and magics, their runnings to and fro and beatings of drums, their impure rites and their purifications, their filthiness and chastity, their barbarian and illegal chastisements and abuse.”[919] Plutarch seems to be in part animated by the common prejudice against all other religions than one’s own, and speaks twice with distaste of Jewish Sabbaths. He also, however, as the passage just quoted shows, is opposed to the more extreme and debasing forms of magic, and declares that the superstitious man becomes a mere peg or post upon which all the old-wives hang any amulets and ligatures upon which they may chance.[920] He further condemns such historic instances of superstition as Nicias’s suspension of military operations during a lunar eclipse on the Sicilian expedition.[921] There was nothing terrible, says Plutarch, with his usual felicity of antithesis, in the periodic recurrence of the earth’s shadow upon the moon; but it was a terrible calamity that the shadow of superstition should thus darken the mind of a general at the very moment when a great crisis required the fullest use of his reason.

The essay titled περὶ δεισιδαιμονίας discusses superstition in the classic Greek sense of fear or excessive worry about demons and gods. We often think of Hellenic paganism as a joyful belief system, rich in naturalism, where the gods were made relatable and familiar. Plutarch seems to view normal religion this way and criticizes the superstitious fear of the supernatural. He argues that such fear is arguably worse than atheism because it makes people more miserable and is just as offensive to the divine; believing negative things about the gods is at least as bad as not believing in them at all. Indeed, nothing promotes atheism more than the ridiculous practices and beliefs of superstitious individuals: “their words and[Pg 204] actions, their sorceries and magic, their frantic running around and drum beating, their impure rituals and purifications, their dirtiness and chastity, their barbaric and illegal punishments and abuses.”[919] Plutarch seems to be partly driven by a common bias against religions other than one’s own, and he expresses discomfort twice about Jewish Sabbaths. However, as the quoted passage indicates, he also opposes the more extreme and degrading forms of magic, stating that the superstitious individual becomes nothing more than a peg for all the old wives to hang their charms and spells on.[920] He further condemns historical examples of superstition, such as Nicias halting military operations during a lunar eclipse in the Sicilian expedition.[921] Plutarch notes that there is nothing frightening about the earth’s shadow on the moon; rather, it is a grave tragedy that the shadow of superstition clouds a general's mind at a moment when a significant crisis demands his full reasoning.

In the essay upon the demon of Socrates one of the speakers, attacking faith in dreams and apparitions, commends Socrates as one who did not reject the worship of the gods but who did purify philosophy, which he had received from Pythagoras and Empedocles full of phantasms and myths and the dread of demons, and reeling like a Bacchanal, and reduced it to facts and reason and truth.[922] Another of the company, however, objects that the demon of Socrates outdid the divination of Pythagoras.[923] These conflicting opinions may be applied in some measure to Plutarch himself. His censure of dread of demons and excessive superstition is not to be taken as a sign of scepticism on his part in oracles, dreams, or the demons themselves. To these matters we next turn.

In the essay about Socrates' demon, one of the speakers criticizes belief in dreams and visions while praising Socrates as someone who didn’t dismiss the worship of the gods but instead refined philosophy, which he inherited from Pythagoras and Empedocles—full of illusions, myths, and fear of demons—into a system grounded in facts, reason, and truth.[922] Another person in the group, however, argues that Socrates' demon was more powerful than Pythagoras' divination.[923] These differing views can somewhat reflect Plutarch himself. His criticism of fear of demons and excessive superstition shouldn’t be seen as a sign of his skepticism about oracles, dreams, or demons. Next, we will explore these topics further.

[Pg 205]

[Pg 205]

The oracles of Delphi and of Trophonius.

Plutarch’s faith and interest in oracles in general and in the Delphian oracle of Apollo in particular are attested by three of his essays, the De defectu oraculorum, De Pythiae oraculis and De Ei apud Delphos. At the same time these essays attest the decline of the oracles from their earlier popularity and greatness. The oracular cave of Trophonius, of which we shall hear again in the Life of Apollonius of Tyana, also comes into Plutarch’s works, and the prophetic and apocalyptic vision is described of a youth who spent two nights and a day there in an endeavor to learn the nature of the demon of Socrates.[924]

Plutarch's belief in and fascination with oracles, especially the Delphian oracle of Apollo, is shown in three of his essays: De defectu oraculorum, De Pythiae oraculis, and De Ei apud Delphos. At the same time, these essays highlight the decline of oracles from their earlier popularity and significance. The oracular cave of Trophonius, which we will hear about again in the Life of Apollonius of Tyana, is also mentioned in Plutarch's works, describing the prophetic and apocalyptic vision experienced by a young man who spent two nights and a day there in an effort to understand the nature of Socrates' demon.[924]

Divination justified.

Plutarch further had faith in divination in general, whether by dreams, sneezes or other omens: but he attempted to give a dignified philosophical and theological explanation of it. Few men receive direct divine revelation, in his opinion, but to many signs are given on which divination may be based.[925] He held that the human soul had a natural faculty of divination which might be exercised at favorable times and when the bodily state was not unfavorable.[926] A speaker in one of his dialogues justifies divination even from sneezes and like trivial occurrences upon the ground that as the faint beat of the pulse has meaning for the physician and a small cloud in the sky is for a skilful pilot a sign of impending storm, so the least thing may be a clue to the truly prophetic soul.[927] The extent of Plutarch’s faith in dreams may be inferred from his discussion of the problem, Why are dreams in autumn the least reliable?[928] First there is Aristotle’s suggestion that eating autumn fruit so disturbs the digestion that the soul is left little opportunity to exercise its prophetic faculty undistracted. If we accept the doctrine of Democritus that dreams are caused by images from other bodies and even minds or souls, which enter the body of the sleeper through the open pores and affect the mind, revealing to it the present passions and future de[Pg 206]signs of others,—if we accept this theory, it may be that the falling leaves in autumn disturb the air and ruffle these extremely thin and film-like emanations. A third explanation offered is that in the declining months of the year all our faculties, including that of natural divination, are in a state of decline. In the case of oracles like that at Delphi it is suggested that the Pythia’s natural faculty of divination is stimulated by “the prophetical exhalations from the earth” which induce a bodily state favorable to divination.[929] The god or demon, however, is the underlying and directing cause of the oracle.[930]

Plutarch also believed in divination in general, whether it's through dreams, sneezes, or other signs; however, he tried to provide a respectable philosophical and theological explanation for it. He thought that few people receive direct divine revelation, but many signs exist that can serve as a basis for divination.[925] He believed that the human soul possesses a natural ability for divination that could be tapped into at the right times, especially when the physical condition is not a hindrance.[926] A character in one of his dialogues defends divination even from sneezes and other minor events, arguing that just as a subtle pulse can be significant for a doctor and a small cloud in the sky can signal an approaching storm for a skilled sailor, even the tiniest detail may be a hint for a truly prophetic soul.[927] The depth of Plutarch’s belief in dreams can be seen in his consideration of the question, Why are dreams in autumn the least reliable?[928] First, he mentions Aristotle’s idea that eating autumn fruits disrupts digestion so much that the soul has little chance to use its prophetic ability without distraction. If we accept Democritus’ theory that dreams come from images from other bodies and even minds or souls, which enter the sleeper through open pores and influence the mind, revealing present feelings and future plans of others—if we accept this idea, then perhaps the falling leaves in autumn disturb the air and disrupt these very thin and light emanations. A third explanation he provides is that during the later months of the year, all our faculties, including the natural ability for divination, are in decline. With oracles like the one at Delphi, it is proposed that the Pythia’s natural divination ability is activated by “the prophetic exhalations from the earth,” which create a physical state conducive to divination.[929] However, the god or spirit remains the fundamental and guiding force behind the oracle.[930]

Demons as mediators between gods and men.

To the demons and their relations to the gods and to men we therefore next come. Plutarch’s view is that they are essential mediators between the gods and men. Just as one who should remove the air from between the earth and moon would destroy the continuity of the universe, so those who deny that there is a race of demons break off all intercourse between gods and men.[931] On the other hand, the theory of demons solves many doubts and difficulties.[932] When and where this doctrine originated is uncertain, whether among the magi about Zoroaster, or in Thrace with Orpheus, or in Egypt or Phrygia. Plutarch likens the gods to an equilateral, the demons to an isosceles, and human beings to a scalene triangle; and again compares the gods to sun and stars, the demons to the moon, and men to comets and meteors.[933] In the youth’s vision in the cave of Trophonius the moon appeared to belong to earthly demons, while those stars which have a regular motion were the demons of sages, and the wandering and falling stars the demons of men who have yielded to irrational passions.[934]

Next, we turn to the demons and their connections to the gods and to humans. Plutarch believes they are crucial mediators between the gods and people. Just as removing the air between the Earth and the moon would disrupt the universe's continuity, denying the existence of demons severs the link between the gods and humans.[931] On the other hand, the theory of demons addresses many uncertainties and challenges.[932] It’s unclear where this belief came from, whether among the magi with Zoroaster, in Thrace with Orpheus, or in Egypt or Phrygia. Plutarch compares the gods to an equilateral triangle, the demons to an isosceles triangle, and humans to a scalene triangle; he also compares the gods to the sun and stars, the demons to the moon, and humans to comets and meteors.[933] In the young man's vision in the cave of Trophonius, the moon seemed to belong to earthly demons, while the stars that move in a regular pattern represented the demons of sages, and the wandering and falling stars symbolized the demons of people who have succumbed to irrational passions.[934]

Demons in the moon: migration of the soul.

These suggestions that the moon and the air between earth and moon are the abode of the demons and this reminiscence of the Platonic doctrine of the soul and its migrations receive further confirmation in a discussion whether[Pg 207] the moon is inhabited in the essay, On the Face in the Moon. A story is there told[935] of a man who visited islands five days’ sail west of Britain, where Saturn is imprisoned and where there are demons serving him. This man who acquired great skill in astrology during his stay there stated upon his return to Europe that every soul after leaving the human body wanders for a time between earth and moon, but finally reaches the latter planet, where the Elysian fields are located, and there becomes a demon.[936] The demons do not always remain in the moon, however, but may come to earth to care for oracles or be imprisoned in a human body again for some crime.[937] The man who repeats the stranger’s story leaves it to his hearers, however, to believe it or not. But the struggle upward of human souls to the estate of demons is again described in the essay on the demon of Socrates,[938] where it is explained that those souls which have succeeded in freeing themselves from all union with the flesh become guardian demons and help those of their fellows whom they can reach, just as men on shore wade out as far as they can into the waves to rescue those sea-tossed, ship-wrecked mariners who have succeeded in struggling almost to land. The soul is plunged into the body, the uncorrupted mind or demon remains without.[939]

These ideas that the moon and the space between the Earth and the moon are home to demons, along with the reminder of the Platonic belief about the soul and its journeys, are further supported in a discussion about whether the moon is inhabited in the essay, On the Face in the Moon. The essay recounts a tale of a man who traveled to islands five days' sail west of Britain, where Saturn is imprisoned and served by demons. This man, who gained considerable knowledge in astrology during his time there, claimed upon returning to Europe that every soul, after leaving the human body, wanders for a while between the Earth and the moon, but eventually reaches the moon, where the Elysian fields are, and becomes a demon. However, demons do not always stay on the moon; they can come to Earth to tend to oracles or be trapped in a human body again for some wrongdoing. The man who tells the story of the traveler leaves it up to his listeners to believe it or not. The upward journey of human souls to become demons is also described in the essay on the demon of Socrates, where it's explained that the souls that manage to detach themselves from all physical ties become guardian demons and assist those of their fellow souls who they can reach, much like people on the shore wade out as far as they can into the waves to help shipwrecked sailors who have nearly made it to land. The soul gets immersed in the body, while the untainted mind or demon stays outside.

Demons mortal: some evil.

The demons differ from the gods in that they are mortal, though much longer-lived than men. Hesiod said that crows live nine times as long as men, stags four times as long as crows, ravens three times as long as stags, a phoenix nine times as long as a raven, and the nymphs ten times as long as the phoenix.[940] There are storms in the isles off Britain whenever one of the demons residing there dies.[941] Some demons are good spirits and others are evil; some are more passive and irrational than others; some delight in gloomy festivals, foul words, and even human sacrifice.[942]

The demons are different from the gods in that they are mortal, though they live much longer than humans. Hesiod claimed that crows live nine times as long as humans, stags four times as long as crows, ravens three times as long as stags, a phoenix nine times as long as a raven, and the nymphs ten times as long as a phoenix.[940] There are storms in the islands off Britain whenever one of the demons living there dies.[941] Some demons are good spirits while others are evil; some are more passive and irrational than others; some enjoy dark festivals, vulgar words, and even human sacrifice.[942]

[Pg 208]

[Pg 208]

Men and demons.

Once a year in the neighborhood of the Red Sea a man is seen who spends the remainder of his time among “nymphs, nomads and demons.”[943] At his annual appearance many princes and great men come to consult him concerning the future. He also has the gift of tongues to the extent of understanding several languages perfectly. His speech is like sweetest music, his breath sweet and fragrant, his person the most graceful that his interlocutor had ever seen. He also was never afflicted with any disease, for once a month he ate the bitter fruit of a medicinal herb. As to the exact nature of Socrates’ demon there is some diversity of opinion. One man suggests that it was merely the sneezing of himself or others, sneezes on the left hand warning him to desist from his intended course of action, while a sneeze in any other quarter was interpreted by him as a favorable sign.[944] The weight of opinion, however, inclines towards the view that his demon did not appear to him as an apparition or phantasm, or even communicate with him as an audible voice, but by immediate impression upon his mind.[945]

Once a year in the Red Sea region, a man appears who spends the rest of his time with “nymphs, nomads, and demons.” [943] During his annual visit, many princes and powerful figures come to ask him about the future. He also has the ability to understand several languages perfectly. His speech is like the sweetest music, his breath is sweet and fragrant, and his presence is the most graceful his conversation partner has ever seen. He also never suffered from any illness, as he ate the bitter fruit of a medicinal herb once a month. As for the exact nature of Socrates’ demon, opinions vary. One person suggests it was just his own sneezing or others’ sneezes; sneezes on the left side warned him to stop his intended actions, while a sneeze from elsewhere was seen as a good sign. [944] However, most people believe that his demon did not appear as a ghost or communicate with him as a voice, but rather through direct impressions on his mind. [945]

Relation of Plutarch’s to other conceptions of demons.

Plutarch’s account of demons is the first of a number which we shall have occasion to note. As the discussion of them by Apuleius in the next chapter and the rather crude representation of them given in Philostratus’s Life of Apollonius of Tyana will show, there was as yet among non-Christian writers no unanimity of opinion concerning demons. On the other hand there are several conceptions in Plutarch’s essays which were to be continued later by Christians and Neo-Platonists: namely, the conception of a mediate class of beings between God and men, the hypothesis of a world of spirits in close touch with human life, the association of divination and oracles with demons, and the location of spirits in the sphere of the moon or the air between earth and moon,—although Plutarch sometimes connected demons with the stars above the moon. This occasional association of stars with spirits and of sinning souls with falling stars[Pg 209] bears some resemblance to the depiction of certain stars as sinners in the Hebraic Book of Enoch, which was written before Plutarch’s time and which we shall consider in our next book as an influence upon the development of early Christian thought.

Plutarch's account of demons is the first of several we will discuss. As Apuleius will explain in the next chapter and Philostratus’s Life of Apollonius of Tyana presents in a more crude way, there wasn't a consensus among non-Christian writers about demons yet. On the other hand, there are several ideas in Plutarch’s essays that would later be picked up by Christians and Neo-Platonists: specifically, the idea of a middle class of beings between God and humans, the theory of a spirit world closely connected to human life, the link between demons and divination or oracles, and the belief that spirits are found in the realm of the moon or in the air between the earth and the moon—although Plutarch sometimes associated demons with the stars beyond the moon. This occasional connection of stars to spirits and sinful souls to falling stars[Pg 209] is somewhat similar to how certain stars are portrayed as sinners in the Hebraic Book of Enoch, which was written before Plutarch's time and which we will examine in our next book for its influence on early Christian thought.

The astrologer Tarrutius.

As for the stars apart from demons, Plutarch discusses the art of astrology as little as he does “magic” by that name. Mentions of individuals as skilled in “astrology” may simply mean that they were trained astronomers. When a veritable astrologer in our sense of the word is mentioned in one of Plutarch’s Lives,[946] he is described as a μαθηματικός—a word often used for a caster of horoscopes and predicter of the future. Here, however, it carries no reproach of charlatanism, since in the same phrase he is called a philosopher. This Tarrutius was a friend of Varro, who asked him to work out the horoscope of Romulus backward from what was known of the later life and character of the founder of Rome. “For it was possible for the same science which predicted man’s life from the time of his birth to infer the time of his birth from the events of his life.” Tarrutius set to work and from the data at his disposal figured out that Romulus was conceived in the first year of the second Olympiad, on the twenty-third day of the Egyptian month Khoeak at the third hour when there was a total eclipse of the sun; and that he was born on the twenty-first day of the month Thoth about sunrise. He further estimated that Rome was founded by him on the ninth day of the month Pharmuthi between the second and third hour. For, adds Plutarch, they think that the fortunes of cities are also controlled by the hour of their genesis. Plutarch, however, seems to look upon such doctrines as rather strange and fabulous.[947] Varro, on the other hand, may have regarded it as the most scientific method possible of settling disputed questions of historical chronology

As for the stars, aside from demons, Plutarch talks about astrology as little as he does "magic." When people are mentioned as being skilled in "astrology," it might just mean they were trained astronomers. When a true astrologer, in our current understanding of the term, is referenced in one of Plutarch’s Lives,[946] he is described as a μαθηματικός—a term often used for someone who casts horoscopes and predicts the future. However, here it doesn't imply any accusation of being a fraud, since he is also called a philosopher. This Tarrutius was a friend of Varro, who asked him to work out an astrology chart for Romulus based on what was known about the later life and character of Rome's founder. "It was possible for the same science that predicted a person's life from their birth to figure out their birth time from the events of their life." Tarrutius began his analysis and determined that Romulus was conceived in the first year of the second Olympiad, on the twenty-third day of the Egyptian month Khoeak at the third hour during a total solar eclipse; and that he was born on the twenty-first day of the month Thoth around sunrise. He also concluded that Romulus founded Rome on the ninth day of the month Pharmuthi between the second and third hour. Plutarch adds that people believe the fortunes of cities are also influenced by the time of their creation. However, Plutarch seems to view such beliefs as rather odd and fantastical.[947] Varro, on the other hand, may have seen it as the most scientific approach available for addressing debates over historical timelines.

[Pg 210]

[Pg 210]

The De fato.

A favorable attitude towards astrology is found mainly in those essays by Plutarch which are suspected of being spurious, the De fato and De placitis philosophorum. Of the latter we have already treated under Galen. In the former fate is described as “the soul of the universe,” and the three main divisions of the universe, namely, the immovable heaven, the moving spheres and heavenly bodies, and the region about the earth, are associated with the three Fates, Clotho, Atropos, and Lachesis.[948] It is similarly stated in the essay on the demon of Socrates[949] that of the four principles of all things, life, motion, genesis or generation, and corruption, the first two are joined by the One indivisibly, the second and third Mind unites through the sun; the third and fourth Nature joins through the moon. And over each of these three bonds presides one of the three Fates, Atropos, Clotho, and Lachesis. In other words, the one God or first cause, invisible and unmoved, in whom is life, sets in motion the heavenly spheres and bodies, through whose instrumentality generation and corruption upon earth are produced and regulated,—which is substantially the Aristotelian view of the universe. Returning to the De fato we may note that it repeats the Stoic theory of the magnus annus when the heavenly bodies resume their rounds and all history repeats itself.[950] Despite this apparent admission that human life is subject to the movements of the stars, the author of the De fato seems to think that accident, fortune or chance, the contingent, and “what is in us” or free-will, can all co-exist with fate, which he practically identifies with the motion of the heavenly bodies.[951] Fate is also comprehended by divine Providence but this fact does not militate against astrology, since Providence itself divides into that of the first God, that of the secondary gods or stars “who move through the heavens regulating mortal affairs, and that of the demons who act as guardians of men.”[952]

A positive view of astrology mainly appears in those essays by Plutarch that are thought to be inauthentic, specifically the De fato and De placitis philosophorum. We've already discussed the latter in relation to Galen. In the former, fate is described as “the soul of the universe,” and the three main parts of the universe—namely, the unchanging heaven, the moving spheres and celestial bodies, and the area around the earth—are linked to the three Fates: Clotho, Atropos, and Lachesis. Similarly, in the essay on Socrates' demon, it states that of the four fundamental principles of all things—life, motion, generation, and corruption—the first two are intimately connected by the One, while the second and third are united through the sun; the third and fourth are joined by Nature through the moon. Over each of these three connections supervises one of the three Fates: Atropos, Clotho, and Lachesis. In other words, the one God or first cause, who is invisible and unmoved and in whom life resides, sets the heavenly spheres and bodies in motion, through which generation and corruption on earth are initiated and governed—which aligns closely with the Aristotelian perspective of the universe. Returning to the De fato, it reiterates the Stoic idea of the magnus annus, where the celestial bodies follow their cycles and all of history repeats itself. Despite this clear suggestion that human life is influenced by the movements of the stars, the author of the De fato seems to believe that accident, fortune, chance, the contingent, and “what is in us” or free will can all coexist with fate, which he practically equates with the movement of the heavenly bodies. Fate is also understood through divine Providence, but this does not oppose astrology, since Providence itself is divided into that of the first God, that of the secondary gods or stars “who move through the heavens regulating mortal affairs,” and that of the demons who act as guardians of humanity.

[Pg 211]

[Pg 211]

Other bits of astrology.

One or two bits of astrology may be noted in Plutarch’s other essays. The man who learned “astrology” among demons in the isle beyond Britain affirmed that in human generation earth supplies the body, the moon furnishes the soul, and the sun provides the intellect.[953] In the Symposiacs[954] the opinion of the mythographers is repeated that monstrous animals were produced during the war with the giants because the moon turned from its course then and rose in unaccustomed quarters. Plutarch was, by the way, inclined to distinguish the moon from other heavenly bodies as passive and imperfect, a sort of celestial earth or terrestrial star. Such a separation of the moon from the other stars and planets would have, however, no necessary contrariety with astrological theory, which usually ascribed a peculiar place to the moon and represented it as the medium through which the more distant planets exerted their effects upon the earth.

One or two points about astrology can be found in Plutarch’s other essays. The guy who learned “astrology” from demons on the island beyond Britain claimed that for human beings, the earth provides the body, the moon gives the soul, and the sun supplies the intellect.[953] In the Symposiacs[954], it is repeated that mythographers believed monstrous animals were created during the war with the giants because the moon had strayed from its usual path and rose in unusual places. By the way, Plutarch tended to view the moon as different from the other heavenly bodies, seeing it as passive and imperfect, somewhat like a celestial earth or a terrestrial star. However, separating the moon from the other stars and planets wouldn’t necessarily contradict astrological theory, which typically assigned a special role to the moon, portraying it as the medium through which the more distant planets influenced the earth.

Cosmic mysticism.

Sometimes Plutarch’s cosmology carries Platonism to the verge of Gnosticism, a subject of which we shall treat in a later chapter. The diviner who had communed with demons, nomads, and nymphs in the desert asserted that there was not one world, but one hundred and eighty-three worlds arranged in the form of a triangle with sixty to each side and one at each angle. Within this triangle of worlds lay the plain of truth where were the ideas and models of all things that had been or were to be, and about these was eternity from which time flowed off like a river to the one hundred and eighty-three worlds. The vision delectable of those ideas is granted to men only once in a myriad of years, if they live well, and is the goal toward which all philosophy strives. The stranger, we are informed, told this tale artlessly, like one in the mysteries, and produced no demonstration or proof of what he said. We have already heard Plutarch liken gods, demons, and men to different kinds of triangles; he also repeats Plato’s association of the[Pg 212] five regular solids with the elements, earth, air, fire, water, and ether.[955] He states that the nature of fire is quite apparent in the pyramid from “the slenderness of its decreasing sides and the sharpness of its angles,”[956] and that fire is engendered from air when the octahedron is dissolved into pyramids, and air produced from fire when the pyramids are compressed into an octahedron.[957]

Sometimes Plutarch’s view of the universe pushes Platonism close to Gnosticism, a topic we’ll explore in a later chapter. The diviner, who connected with demons, nomads, and nymphs in the desert, claimed that instead of one world, there are one hundred and eighty-three worlds arranged in a triangle, with sixty on each side and one at each corner. Inside this triangle of worlds is the plain of truth, where the ideas and models of everything that has been or will be reside, surrounded by eternity, from which time flows like a river to the one hundred and eighty-three worlds. The delightful vision of those ideas is granted to people only once in a million years, if they live well, and is the ultimate goal of all philosophy. The stranger, we are told, recounted this story simply, like one involved in the mysteries, without offering any demonstration or proof of his claims. We have already heard Plutarch compare gods, demons, and humans to different types of triangles; he also reiterates Plato’s connection of the five regular solids with the elements: earth, air, fire, water, and ether.[Pg 212] He notes that the nature of fire is evident in the pyramid due to “the slenderness of its decreasing sides and the sharpness of its angles,” and that fire is created from air when the octahedron breaks down into pyramids, while air comes from fire when the pyramids are compressed into an octahedron.

Number mysticism.

These geometrical fancies are naturally accompanied by considerable number mysticism. In this particular passage the merits of the number five are enlarged upon and a long list is given of things that are five in number.[958] Five is again extolled in the essay on The Ei at Delphi,[959] but there one of the company remarks with much reason that it is possible to praise any number in many ways, but that he prefers to five “the sacred seven of Apollo.”[960] Platonic geometrical reveries and Pythagorean number mysticism are indulged in even more extensively in the essay On the Procreation of the Soul in Timaeus. The number and proportion existing in planets, stars and spheres are touched on,[961] and it is stated that the divine demiurge produced the marvelous virtues of drugs and organs by employing harmonies and numbers.[962] Thus in the potency of number and numerical relations is suggested a possible explanation of astrology and magic force in nature.

These geometrical ideas are naturally filled with a lot of number mysticism. In this specific passage, the significance of the number five is discussed at length, along with a long list of things that come in fives.[958] Five is also praised in the essay on The Ei at Delphi,[959] but in that discussion, one of the group wisely points out that any number can be celebrated in various ways, though he personally prefers to refer to five as “the sacred seven of Apollo.”[960] Platonic geometric fantasies and Pythagorean number mysticism are explored even more thoroughly in the essay On the Procreation of the Soul in Timaeus. The relationships and proportions found in planets, stars, and spheres are mentioned,[961] and it's noted that the divine creator achieved the amazing properties of drugs and organs through the use of harmonies and numbers.[962] Thus, the power of numbers and numerical relationships hints at a potential explanation for astrology and the magical forces present in nature.

Occult virtues in nature.

Plutarch, indeed, shows the same faith in the existence of occult virtues in natural objects and in what may be called natural magic as most of his contemporaries. At his symposium when one man avers that he saw the tiny fish echeneïs stop the ship upon which he was sailing until the lookout man picked it off,[963] some laugh at his credulity but[Pg 213] others narrate other cases of strange antipathies in nature. Mad elephants are quieted by the sight of a ram; vipers will not move if touched with a leaf from a beech tree; wild bulls become tame when tied to a fig tree;[964] if light objects are oiled, amber fails to attract them as usual; and iron rubbed with garlic does not respond to the magnet. “These things are proved by experience but it is difficult if not quite impossible to learn their cause.” At the Symposium[965] the question also is raised why salt is called divine, and it is suggested that it may be because it preserves bodies from decay after the soul has left them, or because mice conceive without sexual intercourse by merely licking salt. In The Delay of the Deity Plutarch again treats of occult virtues.[966] They pass from body to body with incredible swiftness or to an incredible distance. He wonders why it is that if a goat takes a piece of sea-holly in her mouth, the entire herd will stand still until the goatherd removes it. We see once more how closely such notions are associated with magical practices, when in the same paragraph he mentions the custom of making the children of those who have died of consumption or dropsy sit soaking their feet in water until the corpse has been buried so that they may not catch their parent’s disease.

Plutarch certainly shares the same belief in the existence of hidden powers in natural objects and what could be called natural magic as most of his contemporaries. At his symposium, when one person claims to have seen the tiny fish echeneïs stop the ship he was on until the lookout man removed it, some laugh at his gullibility, but[Pg 213] others recount other examples of strange antipathies in nature. Mad elephants are calmed by the sight of a ram; vipers won’t move if touched with a leaf from a beech tree; wild bulls become tame when tied to a fig tree; [964] if light objects are oiled, amber doesn’t attract them as it normally would; and iron rubbed with garlic doesn’t respond to a magnet. “These things are proven by experience, but it’s difficult, if not impossible, to learn their cause.” At the Symposium [965], the question is also raised about why salt is called divine, and it’s suggested it might be because it preserves bodies from decay after the soul departs or because mice can conceive without sexual intercourse just by licking salt. In The Delay of the Deity, Plutarch again discusses hidden virtues. [966] They transfer from body to body with incredible speed or to unbelievable distances. He questions why, when a goat takes a piece of sea-holly in its mouth, the entire herd will freeze until the goatherd takes it away. We see once again how closely these ideas are linked to magical practices when he mentions the custom of having the children of those who died from consumption or dropsy soak their feet in water until the body has been buried to avoid catching their parent’s disease.

Asbestos.

On the other hand, how difficult it must have been with the limited scientific knowledge of that time to distinguish true from false marvelous properties may be inferred from Plutarch’s description[967] of a certain soft and pliable stone that used to be produced at Carystus and from which handkerchiefs and hair-nets were made which could not be burnt and were cleaned by exposure to fire,—a description, it would seem, of our asbestos, although Plutarch does not give the stone any name. Strabo also ascribes similar properties to a stone from Carystus without naming it.[968] Dioscorides and[Pg 214] other Greek authors, we are told,[969] apply the word “asbestos” to quick-lime, but Pliny in the Natural History[970] describes what he says the Greeks call ἀσβέστινον much as Plutarch does. He adds that it is employed in making shrouds for royal funerals to separate the ashes of the corpse from those of the pyre.[971] But he seems to regard it as a plant, not a stone, listing it as a variety of linen in one of his books on vegetation. He also states incorrectly that it is found but rarely and in desert and arid regions of India where there is no rain and a hot sun and amid terrible serpents[972]. Probably Pliny or his source argued that anything which resisted the action of fire must have been inured by growth under fiery suns and among serpents. Furthermore it obviously should possess other marvelous properties, so we are not surprised to find Anaxilaus cited to the effect that if this “linen” is tied around a tree trunk, the blows with which the tree is felled cannot be heard. It was thus that imaginations inured to magic enlarged upon unusual natural properties.

On the other hand, it must have been really difficult with the limited scientific knowledge of that time to tell the real amazing properties from the fake. We can see this in Plutarch’s description of a certain soft and flexible stone that came from Carystus, from which they made handkerchiefs and hairnets that couldn't be burned and could be cleaned by being held up to fire—this seems to describe what we now know as asbestos, although Plutarch doesn’t name the stone. Strabo also attributes similar qualities to a stone from Carystus without naming it. Dioscorides and other Greek authors reportedly use the term “asbestos” to refer to quicklime, but Pliny in the Natural History describes what he claims the Greeks call ἀσβέστινον in much the same way as Plutarch. He adds that it is used to make shrouds for royal funerals to separate the ashes of the body from those of the pyre. However, he seems to think of it as a plant, not a stone, listing it as a type of linen in one of his books on vegetation. He also mistakenly states that it is found only rarely in the dry and desert regions of India, where it’s hot and there’s no rain, and where terrible snakes exist. It’s likely that Pliny or his source believed that anything resistant to fire must have developed under scorching suns and around snakes. Additionally, it clearly should have other incredible properties, so it's no surprise that Anaxilaus is mentioned saying that if this “linen” is wrapped around a tree, you can’t hear the sound of the tree being cut down. This is how those who believed in magic expanded on unusual natural properties.

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On rivers and mountains.

A treatise upon rivers and mountains in which the marvelous virtues of herbs and stones figure very prominently has sometimes been included among the works of Plutarch, but also has been omitted entirely from some editions.[973] Some have ascribed it to Parthenius of the time of Nero. It is made up of some thirty-five chapters in each of which a river and a mountain are mentioned. Usually some myth or tragic history is recounted, from which the river took its name or with which it was otherwise intimately connected. A similar procedure is followed in the case of the mountain. The writer, whoever he may be, makes a show of extensive reading, citing over forty authorities, most of whom are Greek and not mentioned in the full bibliographies of Pliny’s Natural History. The titles cited have to do largely with stones, rivers, and different countries. It has been questioned, however, whether these citations are not bogus.[974]

A treatise on rivers and mountains, which prominently features the amazing properties of herbs and stones, has sometimes been included among Plutarch's works, but it has also been completely left out of some editions.[973] Some attribute it to Parthenius from the time of Nero. It consists of about thirty-five chapters, each mentioning a river and a mountain. Typically, a myth or tragic story is told that explains how the river got its name or its close connection to it. The same approach is used for the mountain. The author, whoever he may be, claims to have read extensively, referencing over forty sources, most of which are Greek and not listed in the complete bibliographies of Pliny’s Natural History. The cited titles mainly relate to stones, rivers, and various countries. However, there are doubts about whether these citations are legitimate.[974]

Magic herbs.

The properties attributed to herbs and stones in this treatise are to a large extent magical. A white reed found in the river Phasis while one is sacrificing at dawn to Hecate, if strewn in a wife’s bedroom, drives mad any adulterer who enters and makes him confess his sin.[975] Another herb mentioned in the same chapter was used by Medea to protect Jason from her father. In a later chapter[976] we are told how Hera called upon Selene to aid her in securing her revenge upon Heracles, and how the moon goddess filled a large chest with froth and foam by her magic spells until presently a huge lion leaped out of the chest. Returning from such sorceresses as Hecate, Medea, and Selene to herbs alone, in other rivers are plants which test the purity of gold, aid dim sight or blind one, wither at the mention of the word “step-mother” or burst into flames whenever a step-mother has evil designs against her step-son, free their bearers from fear of apparitions, operate as charms in love-making and[Pg 216] childbirth, cure madmen of their frenzy, check quartan agues if applied to the breasts, protect virginity or wither at a virgin’s touch, turn wine into water except that it retains its bouquet, or preserve persons anointed with their juice from sickness to their dying day.

The properties associated with herbs and stones in this text are largely magical. A white reed found in the river Phasis while sacrificing to Hecate at dawn, if placed in a wife’s bedroom, drives mad any adulterer who enters and makes him confess his sin.[975] Another herb mentioned in the same chapter was used by Medea to protect Jason from her father. In a later chapter[976] we learn how Hera called on Selene to help her get revenge on Heracles, and how the moon goddess magically filled a large chest with froth and foam until a huge lion leaped out of it. Returning from sorceresses like Hecate, Medea, and Selene back to just herbs, other rivers have plants that test the purity of gold, help with poor eyesight or cause blindness, wither at the mention of the word “step-mother,” or burst into flames whenever a step-mother has evil intentions against her step-son, free their users from fear of ghosts, serve as charms in love-making and childbirth, cure madmen of their frenzy, stop quartan fevers when applied to the chest, protect virginity or wither at the touch of a virgin, turn wine into water while still keeping its bouquet, or keep people anointed with their juice free from illness for their entire lives.

Stones found in plants and fish.

An easy transition from the theme of magic herbs to that of stones is afforded by a sort of poppy which grows in a river of Mysia and bears black, harp-shaped stones which the natives gather and scatter over their ploughed fields.[977] If these stones then lie still where they have fallen, it is taken as a sign of a barren year; but if they fly away like locusts, this prognosticates a plentiful harvest. Other marvelous stones are found in the head of a fish in the river Arar, a tributary of the Rhone. The fish is itself quite wonderful since it is white while the moon waxes and black when it wanes.[978] Presumably for this reason the stone cures quartan agues, if applied to the left side of the body while the moon is waning. There is another stone which must be sought after under a waxing moon with pipers playing continually.[979]

An easy transition from the theme of magical herbs to that of stones is presented by a type of poppy that grows in a river in Mysia and produces black, harp-shaped stones that the locals collect and spread over their plowed fields.[977] If these stones stay where they land, it’s seen as a sign of a bad year; but if they scatter away like locusts, it predicts a bountiful harvest. Other amazing stones are discovered in the head of a fish in the river Arar, a tributary of the Rhone. The fish is quite remarkable itself since it’s white while the moon is waxing and black when it wanes.[978] Presumably for this reason, the stone treats quartan fevers if it's placed on the left side of the body while the moon is waning. There’s another stone that should be sought under a waxing moon with pipers playing continuously.[979]

Virtues of other stones.

Other stones guard treasuries by sounding a trumpet-like alarm at the approach of thieves; or change color four times a day and are ordinarily visible only to young girls. But if a virgin of marriageable age chances to see this stone, she is safe from attempts upon her chastity henceforth.[980] Some stones drive men mad and are connected with the Mother of the Gods or are found only during the celebration of the mysteries.[981] Others stop dogs from barking, expel demons, grow black in the hands of false witnesses, protect from wild beasts, and have varied medicinal powers or other effects similar to those already mentioned in the case of herbs.[982] In a river where the Spartans were defeated is a stone which leaps towards the bank, if it hears a trumpet,[Pg 217] but sinks at the mention of the Athenians.[983] Certainly a marvelous stone, capable of both hearing and motion!

Other stones protect treasures by sounding a trumpet-like alarm when thieves approach, or they change color four times a day and are usually only seen by young girls. But if a virgin of marriageable age happens to see this particular stone, she is safe from any attempts on her chastity from then on.[980] Some stones drive men insane and are linked to the Mother of the Gods or can only be found during the celebration of the mysteries.[981] Others prevent dogs from barking, banish demons, turn black in the hands of false witnesses, protect against wild animals, and have various medicinal properties or similar effects as those mentioned before regarding herbs.[982] In a river where the Spartans were defeated lies a stone that leaps towards the bank when it hears a trumpet,[Pg 217] but sinks at the mention of the Athenians.[983] Truly a remarkable stone, capable of both hearing and movement!

Fascination.

Leaving the treatise on rivers and mountains, for the occult virtue of human beings we may turn to a discussion of fascination in the Symposiacs.[984] Some of the company ridiculed the idea, but their host asserted that a myriad of events went to prove it and that if you reject a thing simply because you cannot give a reason for it, you “take away the marvelous from all things.” He pointed out that some men hurt little and tender children by looking at them, and argued that, as the plumes of other birds are ruined when mixed with those of the eagle, so men may injure by their touch or mere glance. Plutarch, who was of the company, suggested effluvia or emanations from the body as a possible explanation, pointing out that love begins with glances, that no disease is more contagious than sore eyes, and that gazing upon the curlew cures jaundice. The bird appears to attract the disease to itself, and averts its head and closes its eyes, not, as some think, because it is jealous of the remedy sought from it, but because it feels wounded as if from a blow. Others of the company contended that the passions and affections of the soul may have a powerful effect through the eyes and glance upon other persons, and argued that the sufferings of the soul strengthen the powers of the body, and that the same counter-charms are efficacious against envy as against fascination. The emanations which Democritus believed that envious and malicious persons sent forth are also mentioned; fathers have fascinated their own children, and it is even possible that one might injure oneself by reflection of one’s gaze. It is suggested that young children may sometimes be fascinated in this manner rather than by the glance of others.

Leaving the discussion on rivers and mountains, let’s turn to the intriguing idea of fascination in the Symposiacs.[984] Some people at the gathering dismissed the concept, but their host insisted that many events support it, arguing that if you dismiss something just because you can't explain it, you “take away the marvelous from everything.” He noted that some men can harm gentle, vulnerable children just by looking at them, and claimed that, like when the feathers of other birds are spoiled by mixing with those of the eagle, men can cause harm through their touch or mere gaze. Plutarch, who was part of the group, proposed that body emanations could explain this, highlighting that love starts with glances, that no illness spreads faster than pink eye, and that looking at a curlew can cure jaundice. The bird seems to draw the sickness to itself, turning its head and closing its eyes, not out of jealousy for the remedy sought from it, but because it feels hurt as if struck. Others argued that the emotions and feelings of the soul can strongly influence others through the eyes, suggesting that soul suffering can enhance the body’s abilities, and that the same protective charms work against both envy and fascination. They also referenced the emissions that Democritus believed envious and spiteful people released; parents have been known to fascinate their own children, and it’s even possible to harm oneself through the reflection of one’s gaze. It was noted that young children might sometimes become fascinated this way rather than through someone else’s glance.

Animal sagacity and remedies.

Plutarch devotes two essays to the familiar theme of the craftiness and sagacity of animals and the remedies used by them. In one essay[985] a companion of Odysseus refuses to[Pg 218] allow Circe to turn him back from a pig to human form. He boasts among other things that beasts know how to cure themselves. Without ever having been taught swine when sick run to rivers to search for craw-fish; tortoises physic themselves with origanum after eating vipers; and Cretan goats devour dittany to extract arrows and darts which have been shot into their bodies. In the other essay[986] on the cleverness of animals we find many familiar stories repeated, including some of the inevitable excerpts from Juba on elephants. We meet again the dolphins with their love for mankind,[987] the bird who picks the crocodile’s teeth and warns him of the ichneumon,[988] the fish who rescue one another by biting the line or dragging one another by the tail out of nets,[989] the trained elephant who was slow to learn and was beaten for it and was afterwards seen practicing his exercises by himself in the moonlight,[990] the sentinel cranes who stand on one foot and hold a stone in the other to awaken them if they let it drop.[991] More novel perhaps is the story how herons open oysters by first swallowing them, shells and all, until they are relaxed by the internal heat of the bird, which then vomits them up and eats them out of the shells. Or the account of the tunny fish who needs no astrological canons and is familiar with arithmetic, “Yes, by Zeus, and with optics, too.”[992]

Plutarch writes two essays on the well-known theme of animal cleverness and the ways they help themselves. In one essay[985], a companion of Odysseus refuses to let Circe change him back from a pig to a human. He boasts about how animals know how to heal themselves. Without any instruction, sick pigs run to rivers to look for crawfish; tortoises use oregano to treat themselves after eating vipers; and Cretan goats eat dittany to pull out arrows and darts that have been shot into their bodies. In the other essay[986] about the intelligence of animals, we see many familiar stories recounted, including some excerpts from Juba on elephants. We encounter dolphins who love humans,[987] the bird that cleans the crocodile's teeth and warns him about the ichneumon,[988] the fish that save each other by biting the line or pulling each other out of nets by their tails,[989] the trained elephant that took a while to learn and was punished for it, but later was seen practicing his moves by himself in the moonlight,[990] and the sentinel cranes that stand on one leg and hold a stone in the other to wake themselves up if they drop it.[991] More interesting, perhaps, is the story of how herons open oysters by first swallowing them whole, which are then loosened by the bird’s body heat, allowing them to vomit them up and eat the meat out of the shells. Or the account of the tunny fish that needs no astrology and understands arithmetic, “Yes, by Zeus, and optics, too.”[992]

Theories and queries about nature.

Plutarch’s essays bring out yet other interests and defects of the science of the time. One on The Principle of Cold is a good illustration of the failings of the ancient hypothesis of four elements and four qualities and of the silly, limited arguing which usually and almost of necessity accompanied it. He denies that cold is mere privation of heat, since it seems to act positively upon fluids and solids and exists in different degrees. After considering various assertions such as that air becomes cold when it becomes[Pg 219] dark; that air whitens things and water blackens them; that cold objects are always heavy; he finally associates the element earth especially with the quality cold. In another essay[993] he states that there are no females of a certain type of beetle which was engraved as a charm upon the rings warriors wore to battle, but that the males begat offspring by rolling up balls of earth. He declares that “diseases do not have distinct germs” in a discussion in the Symposiacs whether there can be new diseases.[994] Other natural questions discussed in the treatise of that name and the Symposiacs are: Why a man who often passes near dewy trees contracts leprosy in those limbs which touch the wood? Why the Dorians pray for bad hay-making? Why bears’ paws are the sweetest and most palatable food? Why the tracks of wild beasts smell worse at the full of the moon? Why bees are more apt to sting fornicators than other persons?[995] Why the flesh of sheep bitten by wolves is sweeter than that of other sheep? Why mushrooms are thought to be produced by thunder? Why flesh decays sooner in moonlight than sunlight? Whether Jews abstain from pork because they worship the pig or because they have an antipathy towards it?[996]

Plutarch’s essays highlight additional interests and shortcomings in the science of his time. One essay on The Principle of Cold effectively illustrates the flaws in the ancient idea of four elements and four qualities, as well as the narrow-minded arguments that often came with it. He argues that cold isn't just the absence of heat, as it appears to have a direct effect on liquids and solids and exists in varying degrees. After examining several claims, like that air gets cold when it’s dark; that air whitens things while water darkens them; and that cold objects are always heavy, he ultimately connects the element earth specifically with the quality of cold. In another essay[993], he notes that there are no female beetles of a certain type that were carved as charms on the rings warriors wore into battle, but that the males produce offspring by rolling balls of earth. He states that “diseases do not have distinct germs” while discussing in the Symposiacs whether new diseases can emerge.[994] Other natural questions explored in the treatise of that name and the Symposiacs include: Why does a man who often walks near dewy trees develop leprosy on the limbs that touch the wood? Why do the Dorians pray for bad hay-making? Why are bear paws considered the tastiest and most desirable food? Why do the tracks of wild animals smell stronger during a full moon? Why are bees more likely to sting people who commit adultery than others?[995] Why is the meat of sheep bitten by wolves sweeter than that of other sheep? Why are mushrooms believed to grow from thunder? Why does meat spoil faster in moonlight than in sunlight? Do Jews avoid pork because they worship pigs or because they have an aversion to them?[996]

The Antipodes.

Plutarch sometimes shows evidence of considerable astronomical knowledge. For instance, he knows that the mathematicians figure that the distance from sun to earth is immense, and that Aristarchus demonstrated the sun to be eighteen or twenty times as far off as the moon, which is distant fifty-six times the earth’s radius at the lowest estimate.[997] Yet in the same essay[998] Plutarch has scoffed at the idea of a spherical earth and of antipodes, and at the assertion that bars weighing a thousand talents would stop falling at the earth’s center, if a hole were opened up through the earth, or that two men with their feet in opposite directions[Pg 220] at the center of the earth might nevertheless both be right side up, or that one man whose middle was at the center might be half right side up and half upside down. He admits, however, that the philosophers think so. Thus we see that Christian fathers like Lactantius were not the first to ridicule the notion of the Antipodes; apparently as well educated and omnivorous a pagan reader as Plutarch could do the same.

Plutarch sometimes demonstrates a significant understanding of astronomy. For example, he acknowledges that mathematicians calculate the vast distance from the sun to the earth, and that Aristarchus showed the sun to be eighteen or twenty times farther away than the moon, which is at least fifty-six times the earth's radius. [997] Yet in the same essay [998], Plutarch ridicules the idea of a spherical earth and the existence of antipodes, as well as the claim that heavy objects weighing a thousand talents would stop falling at the earth's center if a hole were made through the earth, or that two men standing with their feet facing in opposite directions at the center of the earth could both be considered right side up, or that a man whose middle was at the center could be half right side up and half upside down. He does, however, acknowledge that philosophers believe this. Thus, we see that Christian thinkers like Lactantius were not the first to mock the idea of the Antipodes; evidently, a well-educated and curious pagan reader like Plutarch could do the same.


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[Pg 221]

CHAPTER VII
APULEIUS OF MADAURA

I. Life and Works

I. Life and Works

Magic and the man—Stylistic reasons for regarding the Metamorphoses as his first work—Biographical reasons—No mention of the Metamorphoses in the Apology.

Magic and the man—Stylistic reasons for viewing the Metamorphoses as his first work—Biographical reasons—No mention of the Metamorphoses in the Apology.

II. Magic in the Metamorphoses

II. Magic in the Transformations

Powers claimed for magic—Its actual performances—Its limitations—The crimes of witches—Male magicians—Magic as an art and discipline—Materials employed—Incantations and rites—Quacks and charlatans—Various superstitions—Bits of science and religion—Magic in other Greek romances.

Powers associated with magic—Its real achievements—Its limitations—The crimes of witches—Male magicians—Magic as a skill and discipline—Materials used—Spells and rituals—Frauds and tricksters—Different superstitions—Elements of science and religion—Magic in other Greek romances.

III. Magic in the Apology

III. Magic in the Apology

Form of the Apologia—Philosophy and magic—Magic defined—Good and bad magic—Magic and religion—Magic and science—Medical and scientific knowledge of Apuleius—He repeats familiar errors—Apparent ignorance of magic and occult virtue—Despite an assumption of knowledge—Attitude toward astronomy—His theory of demons—Apuleius in the middle ages.

Form of the Apologia—Philosophy and magic—Magic defined—Good and bad magic—Magic and religion—Magic and science—Medical and scientific knowledge of Apuleius—He repeats familiar errors—Apparent ignorance of magic and occult virtue—Despite an assumption of knowledge—Attitude toward astronomy—His theory of demons—Apuleius in the middle ages.

I. His Life and Works

Magic and the man as reflected in his works.

One of the fullest and most vivid pictures of magic in the ancient Mediterranean world which has reached us is provided by the writings of Apuleius. He lived in the second century of our era and was not merely a rhetorician of great note in his day and the writer of a romance which has ever since fascinated men, but also a Platonic philosopher, an initiate into many religious cults and mysteries, and a student of natural science and medicine. To him has been ascribed the Latin version of Asclepius, a supposititious dialogue of Hermes Trismegistus. No author perhaps ever more readily and complacently talked of himself than[Pg 222] Apuleius, yet it is no easy task to make out the precise facts of his life, partly because in his romance, The Metamorphoses, or The Golden Ass, he has hopelessly confused himself with the hero Lucius and introduced an autobiographical element of uncertain extent into what is in the main a work of fiction; partly because his Apology, or defense when tried on the charge of magic at Oea in Africa, is more in the nature of special pleading intended to refute and confound his accusers than of a frank confession or accurate history of his career. However, he appears to have been born at Madaura in North Africa, to have studied first at Carthage and then at Athens, to have visited Rome and wandered rather widely about the Mediterranean world, but to have spent more time altogether at Carthage than at any other one place.

One of the most detailed and vivid accounts of magic in the ancient Mediterranean world comes from the writings of Apuleius. He lived in the second century AD and was not only a prominent rhetorician of his time and the author of a romance that has since fascinated people, but he was also a Platonic philosopher, initiated into various religious cults and mysteries, and a student of natural science and medicine. The Latin version of Asclepius, a supposed dialogue by Hermes Trismegistus, is attributed to him. No author perhaps has ever talked about himself as freely and comfortably as Apuleius, yet piecing together the exact details of his life is not an easy task. This is partly because in his novel, The Metamorphoses, or The Golden Ass, he has confusingly merged his identity with the main character, Lucius, weaving an autobiographical element of uncertain scope into what is primarily fiction. Additionally, his Apology, which is his defense against the charge of magic in Oea, Africa, is more of a strategic argument meant to refute and confuse his accusers rather than a straightforward confession or accurate account of his life. Nonetheless, he seems to have been born in Madaura in North Africa, studied first in Carthage and then in Athens, traveled to Rome, and wandered broadly around the Mediterranean, although he spent more time in Carthage than anywhere else.

Stylistic reasons for regarding the Metamorphoses as his first work.

Besides the Metamorphoses and Apologia, with which we shall be chiefly concerned, four other works are extant which are regarded as genuine, The God of Socrates, The Dogma of Plato, Florida, and On the Universe. The order in which these works were written is uncertain, but it seems almost sure that the Metamorphoses was the first. In it Apuleius not only more or less identifies himself with the hero Lucius, who is represented as quite a young man, he also apologizes for his Latin and speaks of the difficulty with which he had acquired that language at Rome. But in the Florida[999] we find him repeating a hymn and a dialogue in both Latin and Greek, or, after delivering half an address in Greek, finishing it in Latin, or boasting that he writes poems, satires, riddles, histories, scientific treatises, orations, and philosophical dialogues with equal facility in either language.[1000] Instead now of craving pardon if he offends by his rude, exotic, and forensic speech, he feels that his reputation for literary refinement and elegance has become such that his audience will not pardon him a solitary solecism or a single syllable pronounced with a barbarous accent.[1001] It[Pg 223] therefore looks as if the Metamorphoses was his first published effort in Latin and as if his peculiar style had proved so popular that he did not find it necessary to apologize for it again. In the Apology he seems supremely confident of his rhetorical powers in the Latin language, and even the accusers describe him as a philosopher of great eloquence both in Greek and Latin.[1002] Three years before in the same town his first public discourse had been greeted with shouts of “Insigniter,” and many in the audience at the time of his trial can still repeat a passage from it on the greatness of Aesculapius.[1003] In the Apology, too, he displays a more extensive learning than in the Metamorphoses and has written already poems and scientific treatises as well as orations. Indeed, practically all the doctrines set forth in his other philosophical works may be found in brief in the Apology.

Besides the Metamorphoses and Apologia, which we will focus on, there are four other works that are considered genuine: The God of Socrates, The Dogma of Plato, Florida, and On the Universe. The order in which these works were written is unclear, but it seems likely that the Metamorphoses was the first. In it, Apuleius not only identifies himself with the hero Lucius, portrayed as a young man, but he also apologizes for his Latin and talks about the challenges he faced in learning the language in Rome. However, in the Florida[999], we see him reciting a hymn and a dialogue in both Latin and Greek, or starting half a speech in Greek and finishing it in Latin, or claiming that he can write poems, satires, riddles, histories, scientific treatises, speeches, and philosophical dialogues equally well in either language.[1000] Instead of seeking forgiveness for his rough, foreign, and courtroom-style speech, he now feels that his reputation for literary refinement and elegance is such that his audience will not forgive even a single mistake or a word pronounced with a foreign accent.[1001] Therefore, it appears that the Metamorphoses was his first published work in Latin, and his unique style became so popular that he no longer felt the need to apologize for it. In the Apology, he shows supreme confidence in his rhetorical skills in Latin, and even his accusers describe him as a philosopher of great eloquence in both Greek and Latin.[1002] Three years earlier, in the same town, his first public speech was met with cheers of "Insigniter," and many in the audience at the time of his trial could still recite a passage from it about the greatness of Aesculapius.[1003] In the Apology, he also demonstrates more extensive knowledge than in the Metamorphoses and has already written poems and scientific treatises, along with speeches. In fact, almost all the ideas presented in his other philosophical works can be found summarized in the Apology.

Biographical reasons.

Moreover, while in the Metamorphoses Apuleius ends the narrative with what seems to be his own comparatively recent initiation into the mysteries of Isis in Greece and of Osiris at Rome, in the Apology[1004] he speaks of having been initiated in the past into all sorts of sacred rites, although he does not mention Rome or Isis and Osiris specifically. It is implied, however, that he has been at Rome in more than one passage of the Apology. Pontianus, his future step-son, with whom Apuleius had become acquainted at Athens “not so many years ago,” was “an adult at Rome” before Apuleius came to Oea. After they had met again at Oea and had both married there, Apuleius gave Pontianus a letter of introduction to the proconsul Lollianus Avitus at Carthage, of whom he says, “I have known intimately many cultured men of Roman name in the course of my life, but have never admired anyone as much as him.” Perhaps Apuleius may have met Lollianus at Carthage, but in the Florida,[1005] in a panegyric on Scipio Orfitus, proconsul of Africa in 163-164 A. D., he alludes to the time “when I moved among your friends in Rome.” All this fits in nicely[Pg 224] with the statements in the closing chapters of the Metamorphoses concerning his rising fame as an orator in the courts of law and “the laborious doctrine of my studies” at Rome. We may therefore reconstruct the course of events as follows. After meeting Pontianus at Athens and concluding his studies in Greece, Apuleius came to Rome, where he remained for some time, perfecting his Latin style, engaging in forensic oratory, and publishing the Metamorphoses. Pontianus, who was younger than Apuleius, either accompanied or followed his friend to Rome, in which city he was still residing after Apuleius had returned to Africa. But Pontianus, too, had left Rome and come back to his African city of Oea to settle the question of his mother’s proposed second marriage, before Apuleius, who had probably revisited Carthage in the meantime and was now traveling east again with the intention of visiting Alexandria, arrived at Oea and was induced to wed the widow, who was considerably older than he. On the delicate question of this lady’s exact age depends our dating of the birth of Apuleius and the chronology of his entire career. At the trial of Apuleius for magic Aemilianus, the accuser, declared that she was sixty when she married Apuleius, and he had previously proposed to marry her to his brother, Clarus, whom Apuleius calls “a decrepit old man.”[1006] On the other hand, Apuleius asserts that the records, which he produces in court, of her being accepted in infancy by her father as his child show that she is “not much over forty,”[1007]—a tactful ambiguity which, inasmuch as we no longer have the records, it would probably be idle to attempt to fathom.

Moreover, while in the Metamorphoses, Apuleius wraps up the story with what appears to be his own relatively recent initiation into the mysteries of Isis in Greece and Osiris in Rome, in the Apology[1004], he talks about having been initiated in the past into various sacred rites, although he doesn't specifically mention Rome or Isis and Osiris. It's suggested, however, that he has been in Rome in more than one part of the Apology. Pontianus, his future stepson, whom Apuleius got to know in Athens “not so many years ago,” was “an adult in Rome” before Apuleius arrived in Oea. After they met again in Oea and both got married there, Apuleius gave Pontianus a letter of introduction to the proconsul Lollianus Avitus in Carthage, of whom he says, “I have known many cultured men of Roman name in my life, but I have never admired anyone as much as him.” Maybe Apuleius met Lollianus in Carthage, but in the Florida[1005], in a praise piece about Scipio Orfitus, proconsul of Africa from 163-164 A.D., he hints at the time “when I was among your friends in Rome.” All this aligns well[Pg 224] with the remarks in the closing chapters of the Metamorphoses regarding his increasing fame as a speaker in court and “the hard work of my studies” in Rome. We can therefore piece together the events like this: After meeting Pontianus in Athens and finishing his studies in Greece, Apuleius went to Rome, where he stayed for a while, refining his Latin style, participating in legal debates, and publishing the Metamorphoses. Pontianus, who was younger than Apuleius, either went with or followed his friend to Rome, where he was still living after Apuleius returned to Africa. But Pontianus also left Rome and came back to his African city of Oea to address his mother’s potential second marriage, before Apuleius, who probably visited Carthage again in the meantime and was now traveling east again to visit Alexandria, arrived in Oea and was persuaded to marry the widow, who was significantly older than he. The sensitive question of this lady’s exact age affects our dating of Apuleius's birth and the timeline of his entire career. During the trial of Apuleius for magic, Aemilianus, the accuser, claimed she was sixty when she married Apuleius, and he had previously suggested marrying her to his brother, Clarus, whom Apuleius refers to as “an old, frail man.”[1006] On the other hand, Apuleius claims that the documents he presents in court, which show she was accepted as her father’s child in infancy, indicate that she is “not much over forty,”[1007]—a careful ambiguity that, since we no longer have the records, it would likely be pointless to try to clarify.

No mention of the Metamorphoses in the Apology.

The chief, if not the only, objection to dating the Metamorphoses before the Apology is that nothing is said of it in the latter.[1008] But obviously Apuleius, when on trial for magic, would not mention the Metamorphoses unless his[Pg 225] accusers forced him to do so. They may not have yet heard of it or it may at first have been published anonymously, although the probability is that Apuleius would not have spent three years at Oea without bringing it to his admirers’ attention. Or they may know of it, but the judge may not have admitted it as evidence on the ground that they must prove that Apuleius has practiced magic. The Metamorphoses does not recount any personal participation of Apuleius himself in magic arts, unless one identifies him throughout with the hero Lucius; it purports to be a Latin rendition of Milesian tales[1009] and does not seem to have been taken very seriously until the church fathers began to cite it. Or the accusers may have dwelt upon it and Apuleius simply have failed to take notice of their charge. All these suppositions may not seem very plausible, but on the other hand we may ask, how would Apuleius dare to write a work like the Metamorphoses after he had been accused and tried of magic? One would expect him then to drop the subject rather than to display an increasing interest in it. But let us turn to his treatment of that theme in both those works, and first consider the Metamorphoses.

The main, if not only, reason to argue against dating the Metamorphoses before the Apology is that it isn’t mentioned in the latter.[1008] But obviously, when Apuleius was on trial for magic, he wouldn't bring up the Metamorphoses unless his accusers forced him to. They might not have heard of it yet, or it could have initially been published anonymously, although it seems likely that Apuleius wouldn't spend three years in Oea without making it known to his fans. Alternatively, they might know of it, but the judge might not allow it as evidence because they need to prove that Apuleius actually practiced magic. The Metamorphoses doesn’t detail any direct involvement of Apuleius in magic unless one considers him synonymous with the protagonist Lucius; it claims to be a Latin version of Milesian tales[1009] and doesn't appear to have been taken very seriously until the church fathers started citing it. Or the accusers might have focused on it, and Apuleius simply ignored their accusation. These assumptions might not seem very convincing, but we can also ask, how could Apuleius have the nerve to write a work like the Metamorphoses after being accused and tried for magic? One would expect him to avoid the topic rather than show an increasing interest in it. But let's examine how he approaches that theme in both works, starting with the Metamorphoses.

II. Magic in the Metamorphoses

Powers claimed for magic.

Vast power over nature and spirits is attributed to magic and its practitioners in the opening chapters of the Metamorphoses. “By magic’s mutterings swift streams are reversed, the sea is calmed, the sun stopped, foam drawn from the moon, the stars torn from the sky, and day turned into night.”[1010] While such assertions are received with some scepticism by one listener, they are largely borne out by the subsequent experiences of the characters in the story and by the feats which witches are made to perform. These are sometimes humorously and extravagantly presented, but as crime and ferocious cruelty are treated in the same spirit,[Pg 226] this light vein cannot be regarded as an admission of magic’s unreality. On the contrary, the magic of Thessaly is celebrated with one accord the world over.[1011] Meroë the witch can “displace the sky, elevate the earth, freeze fountains, melt mountains, raise ghosts, bring down the gods, extinguish the stars, and illuminate the bottomless pit.”[1012] Submerging the light of starry heaven to the lowest depths of hell is a power also attributed to the witch Pamphile.[1013] “By her marvelous secrets she makes ghosts and elements obey and serve her, disturbs the stars and coerces the divinities.”[1014]

Vast power over nature and spirits is given to magic and its practitioners in the opening chapters of the Metamorphoses. “With magic’s whispers, swift rivers are turned backward, the sea is calmed, the sun is halted, foam is pulled from the moon, stars are ripped from the sky, and day is transformed into night.”[1010] While some listeners are skeptical of these claims, they are largely supported by the experiences of the characters in the story and the feats performed by witches. These actions are sometimes portrayed humorously and extravagantly, but since crime and extreme cruelty are treated the same way,[Pg 226] this lighthearted tone cannot be seen as a denial of magic’s reality. On the contrary, the magic of Thessaly is celebrated universally. [1011] Meroë the witch can “move the sky, raise the earth, freeze springs, melt mountains, summon ghosts, bring down the gods, snuff out the stars, and light up the bottomless pit.”[1012] The ability to plunge the light of the starry heavens into the depths of hell is also attributed to the witch Pamphile.[1013] “Through her amazing secrets, she compels ghosts and elements to obey and serve her, disturbs the stars, and forces the gods.”[1014]

Its actual performances.

In none of the episodes recorded in The Golden Ass, however, do the witches find it necessary or advisable to go to quite so great lengths as these, although Pamphile once threatens the sun with eternal darkness because he is so slow in yielding to night when she may ply her sorcery and amours.[1015] The witches content themselves with such accomplishments as carrying on love affairs with inhabitants of distant India, Ethopia, and even the Antipodes,—“trifles of the art these and mere bagatelles”;[1016] with transforming their enemies into animal forms or imprisoning them helpless in their homes, or transporting them house and all to a spot a hundred miles off;[1017] and, on the other hand, with breaking down bolted doors to murder their victims,[1018] or assuming themselves the shape of weasels, birds, dogs, mice, and even insects in order to work their mischief unobserved;[1019] they then cast their victims into a deep sleep and cut their throats or hang them or mutilate them.[1020] They often know what is being said about them when apparently absent, and they sometimes indulge in divination of the future.[1021] But to whatever fields of activity they may extend or confine them[Pg 227]selves, their violent power is irresistible, and we are given to understand that it is useless to try to fight against it or to escape it. Its secret and occult character is also emphasized, and the adjective caeca or noun latebrae are more than once employed to describe it.[1022]

In none of the episodes recorded in The Golden Ass, however, do the witches feel the need to go to such extremes as these, although Pamphile once threatens the sun with eternal darkness because he is too slow in giving way to night when she can practice her magic and pursue her loves.[1015] The witches are satisfied with feats like carrying on love affairs with people from distant India, Ethiopia, and even the Antipodes—“these are trifles of the craft and mere trifles”;[1016] transforming their enemies into animals, imprisoning them helplessly in their homes, or relocating them and their houses a hundred miles away;[1017] and, on the other hand, breaking down locked doors to murder their victims,[1018] or changing into weasels, birds, dogs, mice, and even insects to carry out their mischief unnoticed;[1019] they then put their victims into a deep sleep and cut their throats, hang them, or mutilate them.[1020] They often know what people say about them when they seem to be absent, and they sometimes practice divination to predict the future.[1021] But no matter what areas of activity they may choose to engage in or limit themselves to[Pg 227], their brutal power is unstoppable, and it's clear that trying to fight against it or escape it is pointless. Its secret and hidden nature is also highlighted, and the adjective caeca or noun latebrae are used more than once to describe it.[1022]

Its limitations.

Yet there are also suggested certain limitations to the power of magic. The witches seem to break down the bolted doors, but these resume their former place when the hags have departed, and are to all appearances as intact as before. The man, too, whose throat they have cut, whose blood they have drained off, and whose heart they have removed, awakes apparently alive the next morning and resumes his journey. All the events of the preceding night seem to have been merely an unpleasant dream. The witches had stuffed a sponge into the wound of his throat[1023] with the adjuration, “Oh you sponge, born in the sea, beware of crossing running water.” In the morning his traveling companion can see no sign of wound or sponge on his friend’s throat. But when he stoops to drink from a brook, out falls the sponge and he drops dead. The inference, although Apuleius draws none, is obvious; witches can make a corpse seem alive for a while but not for long, and magic ceases to work when you cross running water. We also get the impression that there is something deceptive and illusive about the magic of the witches, and that only the lusts and crimes are real which their magic enables them or their employers to commit and gratify. They may seem to draw down the sun, but it is found shining next day as usual. When Lucius is transformed into an ass, he retains his human appetite and tenderness of skin,[1024]—a deplorable state of mind and body which must be attributed to the imper[Pg 228]fections of the magic art as well as to the humorous cruelty of the author.

Yet there are also certain limitations to the power of magic. The witches appear to break down the bolted doors, but these doors return to their original position once the hags leave, looking just as intact as before. The man whose throat they have cut, whose blood they have drained, and whose heart they have removed, wakes up seemingly alive the next morning and continues his journey. All the events of the previous night seem to have been just a bad dream. The witches had stuffed a sponge into the wound on his throat with the chant, “Oh you sponge, born in the sea, beware of crossing running water.” In the morning, his traveling companion sees no sign of a wound or sponge on his friend's throat. But when he leans down to drink from a brook, the sponge falls out and he drops dead. The implication, although Apuleius doesn’t mention it, is clear; witches can make a corpse appear alive for a while, but not for long, and magic stops working when you cross running water. We also get the sense that there’s something deceptive and illusory about the witches’ magic, and that only the desires and crimes are real which their magic allows them or their employers to commit and satisfy. They may seem to pull down the sun, but it’s still shining bright the next day. When Lucius turns into a donkey, he keeps his human appetite and sensitivity of skin—an unfortunate state of mind and body that must be attributed to the flaws of the magical art as well as to the humorous cruelty of the author.

The crimes of witches.

In The Golden Ass the practitioners of magic are usually witches and old and repulsive. We have to deal with wonders worked by old-wives and not by Magi of Persia or Babylon. As we have seen and shall see yet further, their deeds are regarded as illicit and criminal. They are “most wicked women” (nequissimae mulieres),[1025] intent upon lust and crime. They practice devotiones, injurious imprecations and ceremonies.[1026]

In The Golden Ass, the ones practicing magic are typically witches, old and unattractive. We are confronted with the wonders created by old hags rather than Magi from Persia or Babylon. As we’ve seen and will see further, their actions are considered illegal and immoral. They are the “most wicked women” (nequissimae mulieres),[1025] driven by lust and wrongdoing. They perform devotiones, harmful curses and rituals.[1026]

Male magicians.

Male practitioners of magic are represented in a less unfavorable light. An Egyptian, who in return for a large sum of money engages to invoke the spirit of a dead man and restore the corpse momentarily to life, is called a prophet and a priest, though he seems a manifest necromancer and is himself adjured to lend his aid and to “have pity by the stars of heaven, by the infernal deities, by the elements of nature, and by the silence of night,”[1027]—expressions which are certainly suggestive of the magic powers elsewhere ascribed to witches. The hero of the story, Lucius, is animated in his dabblings in the magic art by idle curiosity combined with thirst for learning, but not by any criminal motive.[1028] Yet after he has been transformed into an ass by magic, he fears to resume his human form suddenly in public, lest he be put to death on suspicion of practicing the magic art.[1029]

Male practitioners of magic are seen in a more positive light. An Egyptian who, in exchange for a large sum of money, claims to summon the spirit of a dead person and temporarily bring the corpse back to life is called a prophet and a priest, even though he clearly seems like a necromancer. He’s also urged to help and to “have pity by the stars of heaven, by the infernal deities, by the elements of nature, and by the silence of night,”[1027]—phrases that definitely hint at the magical powers associated with witches elsewhere. The protagonist of the story, Lucius, is driven in his experiments with magic by mere curiosity and a desire for knowledge, not by any criminal intent.[1028] However, after he’s magically turned into an ass, he is afraid to suddenly change back into a human in public, fearing he might be executed on suspicion of practicing magic.[1029]

Magic as an art and discipline.

Magic is depicted not merely as irresistible or occult or criminal or fallacious; it is also regularly called an art and a discipline. Even the practices of the witches are so dignified. Pamphile has nothing less than a laboratory on the roof of her house,—a wooden shelter, concealed from view but open to the winds of heaven and to the four points of the compass,—where she may ply her secret arts and where she spreads out her “customary apparatus.”[1030] This consists[Pg 229] of all sorts of aromatic herbs, of metal plates inscribed with cryptic characters, a chest filled with little boxes containing various ointments,[1031] and portions of human corpses obtained from sepulchers, shipwrecks (or birds of prey, according as the reading is navium or avium), public executions, and the victims of wild beasts.[1032] It will be recalled that Galen represented medical students as most likely to secure human skeletons or bodies to dissect from somewhat similar sources; and possibly they might incur suspicion of magic thereby.

Magic is portrayed not just as irresistible, hidden, illegal, or misleading; it's also often referred to as an art and a discipline. Even the practices of witches are quite respectable. Pamphile has nothing less than a laboratory on her roof—a wooden shelter, hidden from sight but open to the winds of heaven and the four directions—where she can practice her secret arts and where she lays out her “usual equipment.” This includes all kinds of aromatic herbs, metal plates engraved with mysterious symbols, a chest filled with small boxes containing different ointments, and parts of human corpses obtained from graves, shipwrecks (or birds of prey, depending on whether the reading is navium or avium), public executions, and the remains of wild animals. It should be noted that Galen suggested that medical students were most likely to source human skeletons or bodies for dissection from somewhat similar origins; and they might arouse suspicion of practicing magic as a result.

Materials employed.

All this makes it clear that to work magic one must have materials. The witches seem especially avid for parts of the human body. Pamphile sends her maid, Fotis, to the barber’s shop to try to steal some cuttings of the hair of a youth of whom she is enamoured;[1033] and another story is told of witches who by mistake cut off and replaced with wax the nose and ears of a man guarding the corpse instead of those of the dead body.[1034] Other witches who murdered a man carefully collected his blood in a bladder and took it away with them.[1035] But parts of other animals are also employed in their magic, and stones as well as varied herbs and twigs.[1036] In trying to entice the beloved Boeotian youth Pamphile used still quivering entrails and poured libations of spring water, milk, and honey, as well as placing the hairs—which she supposed were his—with many kinds of incense upon live coals.[1037] To turn herself into an owl she anointed herself from top to toe with ointment from one of her little boxes, and also made much use of a lamp.[1038] To regain her human form she has only to drink, and bathe in, spring water mixed with anise and laurel leaf,—“See how great a result is attained by such small and insignificant herbs!”[1039]—while Lucius is told that eating roses will re[Pg 230]store him from asinine to human form.[1040] The Egyptian prophet makes use of herbs in his necromancy, placing one on the face and another on the breast of the corpse; and he himself wears linen robes and sandals of palm leaves.[1041]

All this makes it clear that to do magic, you need materials. The witches seem particularly eager for parts of the human body. Pamphile sends her maid, Fotis, to the barber’s shop to try to steal some hair from a young man she loves;[1033] and there's another story about witches who accidentally cut off and replaced the nose and ears of a man guarding a corpse with wax instead of those of the dead body.[1034] Other witches who killed a man carefully collected his blood in a bladder and took it with them.[1035] But they also use parts from other animals, as well as stones, diverse herbs, and twigs.[1036] In trying to charm the beloved Boeotian youth, Pamphile used fresh, quivering entrails and poured offerings of spring water, milk, and honey, while placing the hairs—which she believed were his—along with various kinds of incense on live coals.[1037] To turn herself into an owl, she rubbed ointment all over her body from one of her small jars, and also made good use of a lamp.[1038] To regain her human form, she just needs to drink and bathe in spring water mixed with anise and laurel leaves,—“Look how much can be achieved with such small and seemingly insignificant herbs!”[1039]—while Lucius learns that eating roses will change him from a donkey back to a human.[1040] The Egyptian prophet uses herbs in his necromancy, placing one on the face and another on the chest of the corpse; and he himself wears linen robes and sandals made of palm leaves.[1041]

Incantations and rites.

Besides materials, incantations are much employed,[1042] while the Egyptian prophet turns towards the east and “silently imprecates” the rising sun. As this last suggests, careful observance of rite and ceremony also play their part, and Pamphile’s painstaking procedure is described in precise detail. Divine aid is once mentioned[1043] and is perhaps another essential for success. More than one witch is called divina,[1044] and magic is termed a divine discipline.[1045] But we have also heard the witches spoken of as coercing the gods rather than depending upon them for assistance. Their magic seems to be performed mainly by using things and words in the right ways.

Besides materials, spells are often used, [1042] while the Egyptian prophet faces east and “silently curses” the rising sun. As this suggests, careful adherence to rituals and ceremonies also plays a role, and Pamphile’s meticulous process is outlined in precise detail. Divine assistance is mentioned once [1043] and is likely another key to success. More than one witch is referred to as divina, [1044] and magic is considered a divine discipline. [1045] However, we have also heard that witches are described as forcing the gods instead of relying on them for help. Their magic appears to be mostly carried out by using objects and words correctly.

Quacks and charlatans.

Besides the witches (magae or sagae) and what Apuleius calls magic by name, a number of other charlatans and superstitions of a kindred nature are mentioned in The Golden Ass. Such a one is the Egyptian “prophet” already described. Such was the Chaldean who for a time astounded Corinth by his wonderful predictions, but had been unable to foresee his own shipwreck.[1046] On learning this last fact, a business man who was about to pay him one hundred denarii for a prognostication snatched up his money again and made off. Such were the painted disreputable crew of the Syrian goddess who went about answering all inquiries concerning the future with the same ambiguous couplet.[1047] Such were the jugglers whom Lucius saw at Athens swallowing swords or balancing a spear in the[Pg 231] throat while a boy climbed to the top of it.[1048] Such were the physicians who turned poisoners.[1049]

Besides the witches (magae or sagae) and what Apuleius refers to as magic, there are several other frauds and superstitions of a similar kind mentioned in The Golden Ass. One of these is the Egyptian “prophet” already described. Then there's the Chaldean who amazed Corinth for a while with his incredible predictions but failed to foresee his own shipwreck. [1046] When a businessman learned this fact, he was about to pay the Chaldean one hundred denarii for a prediction but quickly snatched back his money and left. These were the painted disreputable crew of the Syrian goddess who responded to all questions about the future with the same vague couplet. [1047] These were the jugglers that Lucius saw in Athens swallowing swords or balancing a spear in their throats while a boy climbed to the top of it. [1048] These were the physicians who became poisoners. [1049]

Various superstitions.

Other passages allude to astrology[1050] besides that already cited concerning the Chaldean. Divination from dreams is also discussed. In the fourth book the old female servant tells the captive maiden not to be terrified “by the idle figments of dreams” and explains that they often go by contraries; but in the last book the hero is several times guided or forewarned by dreams. Omens are believed in. Starting left foot first loses a man a business opportunity,[1051] and another is kicked out of a house for his ill-omened words.[1052] The violent deaths of all three sons of the owner of another house are presaged by the following remarkable conglomeration of untoward portents: a hen lays a chick instead of an egg; blood spurts up from under the table; a servant rushes in to announce that the wine is boiling in all the jars in the cellar; a weasel is seen dragging a dead snake out-of-doors; a green frog leaps from the sheep-dog’s mouth and then a ram tears open the dog’s throat at one bite.[1053]

Other passages refer to astrology[1050] in addition to the one already mentioned about the Chaldeans. There’s also a discussion about interpreting dreams. In the fourth book, the old female servant tells the captive girl not to be scared “by the silly illusions of dreams” and explains that they often mean the opposite; however, in the last book, the hero is guided or warned multiple times by dreams. People believe in omens. Starting with your left foot can make you miss out on a business opportunity,[1051] and someone gets kicked out of a house for saying something unlucky.[1052] The violent deaths of all three sons of the owner of another house are foreshadowed by this strange collection of bad signs: a hen lays a chick instead of an egg; blood spurts up from under the table; a servant rushes in to say that the wine is boiling in all the jars in the cellar; a weasel is seen dragging a dead snake outside; a green frog jumps out of the sheepdog's mouth, and then a ram tears the dog's throat open with one bite.[1053]

Some bits of science and religion.

Of scientific discussion or information there is little in the Metamorphoses. When Pamphile foretells the weather for the next day by inspection of her lamp, Lucius suggests that this artificial flame may retain some properties from its heavenly original.[1054] The herb mandragora is described as inducing a sleep similar to death, but as not fatal; and the beaver is said to emasculate itself in order to escape its hunters.[1055] We should feel lost without mention of a dragon in a book of this sort, and one is introduced who is large enough to devour a man.[1056] It is interesting to note for purposes of comparison,—inasmuch as we shall presently take up the Life of Apollonius of Tyana, a Neo-Pythagorean, and later shall learn from the Recognitions of Clement that the apostle Peter was accustomed to bathe at dawn in the[Pg 232] sea,—that Lucius, while still in the form of an ass, in his zeal for purification plunged into the sea and submerged his head beneath the wave seven times, because the divine Pythagoras had proclaimed that number as especially appropriate to religious rites.[1057] “It has been said that The Golden Ass is the first book in European literature showing piety in the modern sense, and the most disreputable adventures of Lucius lead, it is true, in the end to a religious climax.” But, adds Professor Duncan B. Macdonald, “Few books, in spite of fantastic gleams of color and light, move under such leaden-weighted skies as The Golden Ass. There is no real God in that world; all things are in the hands of enchanters; man is without hope for here and hereafter; full of yearnings he struggles and takes refuge in strange cults.”[1058]

There isn't much scientific discussion or information in the Metamorphoses. When Pamphile predicts the weather for the next day by looking at her lamp, Lucius wonders if this artificial flame might still have some qualities from its celestial source.[1054] The herb mandragora is described as causing a sleep that resembles death but isn't fatal, and it's said that the beaver castrates itself to escape from its hunters.[1055] We would feel incomplete without a mention of a dragon in a book like this, and one is introduced that is large enough to swallow a man.[1056] It’s interesting to note for comparison—since we will soon discuss the Life of Apollonius of Tyana, a Neo-Pythagorean, and later we will learn from the Recognitions of Clement that the apostle Peter used to bathe at dawn in the[Pg 232] sea—that Lucius, while still in the form of an ass, eagerly jumped into the sea and submerged his head beneath the waves seven times, because the divine Pythagoras declared that number especially significant for religious rituals.[1057] “It has been said that The Golden Ass is the first book in European literature showing piety in the modern sense, and indeed, Lucius's most disreputable adventures ultimately lead to a religious climax.” But, Professor Duncan B. Macdonald adds, “Few books, despite their fantastic bursts of color and light, operate under such gloomy skies as The Golden Ass. There is no real God in that world; everything is controlled by enchanters; man has no hope for this life or the next; filled with longings, he struggles and finds refuge in strange cults.”[1058]

Magic in other Greek romances.

While magic plays a larger part in The Golden Ass than in any other extant Greek romance, it is not unusual in the others to find the hero and heroine exposed to perils from magicians, or themselves falsely charged with magic, as in the Aethiopica of Heliodorus, where Charicles is “condemned to be burned on a charge of poisoning.”[1059] In the Christian romances, too, as the Recognitions will show us later, there are plenty of allusions to magic and demons. Meanwhile we are reminded that in the Roman Empire accusations of magic were made not merely in story books but in real life by the trial for magic of the author of the Metamorphoses himself, and we next turn to the Apology which he delivered upon that occasion.

While magic is more prominent in The Golden Ass than in any other existing Greek romance, it's not uncommon in the others to see the hero and heroine facing dangers from magicians or being falsely accused of practicing magic, as seen in Heliodorus's Aethiopica, where Charicles is “condemned to be burned on a charge of poisoning.”[1059] In Christian romances, as the Recognitions will later illustrate, there are many references to magic and demons. At the same time, we are reminded that in the Roman Empire, accusations of magic weren't limited to fiction but occurred in real life, evidenced by the trial for magic involving the author of the Metamorphoses himself, and we will now turn to the Apology he delivered on that occasion.

III. Magic in the Apology

Form of the Apologia.

The Apologia has every appearance of being preserved just as it was delivered and perhaps as it was taken down by short-hand writers; it does not seem to have undergone the subsequent revision to which Cicero subjected some of his orations. It must have been hastily composed, since[Pg 233] Apuleius states that it has been only five or six days since the charges were suddenly brought against him, while he was occupied in defending another lawsuit brought against his wife.[1060] There also are numerous apparently extempore passages in the oration, notably those where Apuleius alludes to the effect which his statements produce, now upon his accusers, now upon the proconsul sitting in judgment. From the Florida we know that Apuleius was accustomed to improvise.[1061] Moreover, in the Apology certain statements are made by Apuleius which might be turned against him with damaging effect and which he probably would have omitted, had he had the leisure to go over his speech carefully before the trial. For instance, in denying the charge that he had caused to be made for himself secretly out of the finest wood a horrible magic figure in the form of a ghost or skeleton, he declares that it is only a little image of Mercury made openly by a well-known artisan of the town.[1062] But he has earlier stated that “Mercury, carrier of incantations,” is one of the deities invoked in magic rites;[1063] and in another passage[1064] has recounted how the outcome of the Mithridatic war was investigated at Tralles by magic, and how a boy, gazing at an image of Mercury in water, had predicted the future in one hundred and sixty verses. But this is not all. In a third passage[1065] he actually quotes Pythagoras to the effect that Mercury ought not to be carved out of every kind of wood.

The Apologia seems to be preserved exactly as it was delivered, possibly even as it was transcribed by shorthand writers; it doesn’t appear to have undergone the later revisions that Cicero made to some of his speeches. It must have been written quickly, since[Pg 233] Apuleius mentions that only five or six days have passed since the sudden allegations were made against him while he was busy defending another lawsuit for his wife. There are also many seemingly spontaneous sections in the oration, especially where Apuleius comments on the impact his words have, now on his accusers, now on the proconsul judging him. From the Florida, we know that Apuleius was used to improvising. Additionally, in the Apology, Apuleius makes certain statements that could be used against him harmfully, and he likely would have left them out if he had the time to review his speech thoroughly before the trial. For example, in refuting the claim that he secretly had a terrible magic figure made for himself out of the finest wood in the shape of a ghost or skeleton, he states that it is merely a small image of Mercury made openly by a well-known local craftsman. However, he previously noted that “Mercury, carrier of incantations,” is one of the gods called upon in magical rituals; and in another part, he described how the outcome of the Mithridatic war was investigated through magic in Tralles, and how a boy, looking at an image of Mercury in water, had predicted the future in one hundred and sixty lines. But there’s more. In a third instance, he even quotes Pythagoras saying that Mercury shouldn’t be carved from just any kind of wood.

[Pg 234]

[Pg 234]

Philosophy and magic.

If in the Metamorphoses the practice of magic is imputed chiefly to old-wives, in the Apology a main concern of Apuleius is to defend philosophers in general[1066] and himself in particular from “the calumny of magic.”[1067] Epimenides, Orpheus, Pythagoras, Ostanes, Empedocles, Socrates, and Plato have been so suspected, and it consoles Apuleius in his own trial to reflect that he is but sharing the undeserved fate of “so many and such great men.”[1068] In this connection he states that those philosophers who have taken an especial interest in theology, “who investigate the providence of the universe too curiously and celebrate the gods too enthusiastically,” are the ones to be suspected of magic; while those who devote themselves to natural science pure and simple are more liable to be called irreligious atheists.

If in the Metamorphoses, the practice of magic is mainly attributed to old women, in the Apology, Apuleius focuses on defending philosophers in general and himself in particular against “the slander of magic.” Epimenides, Orpheus, Pythagoras, Ostanes, Empedocles, Socrates, and Plato have all been suspected, and it gives Apuleius some comfort during his own trial to realize that he shares the unjust fate of “so many and such great men.” In this context, he mentions that philosophers who show a particular interest in theology, “who investigate the universe's providence too closely and celebrate the gods too passionately,” are the ones suspected of practicing magic; whereas those who focus purely on natural science are more likely to be labeled as irreligious atheists.

Magic defined.

But what is it to be a magician, Apuleius asks the accusers,[1069] and therewith we face again the question of the definition of magic, and Apuleius gradually answers his own query in the course of the oration. Magic, in the ordinary use of the word, is described in much the same way as in the Metamorphoses. It has been proscribed by Roman law since the Twelve Tables; it is hideous and horrible; it is secret and solitary; it murmurs its incantations in the darkness of the night.[1070] It is an art of ill repute, of illicit evil deeds, of crimes and enormities.[1071] Instead of simply calling it magia, Apuleius often applies to it the double expression, magica maleficia.[1072] Perhaps he does this intentionally. In one passage he states that he will refute certain charges which the accusers have brought against him, first, by showing that the things he has been charged with have nothing to do with magic; and second, by proving that, even if he were a magician, there was no cause or occasion for his having committed any maleficium in this connection.[1073][Pg 235] That is to say, maleficium, literally “an evil deed,” means an injury done another by means of magic art. The proconsul sitting in judgment takes a similar view and has asked the accusers, Apuleius tells us,[1074] when they asserted that a woman had fallen into an epileptic fit in his presence and that this was due to his having bewitched her, whether the woman died or what good her having a fit did Apuleius. This is significant as hinting that Roman law did not condemn a man for magic unless he were proved to have committed some crime or made some unjust gain thereby.

But what does it mean to be a magician, Apuleius asks the accusers,[1069] and we confront the question of how to define magic once again, as Apuleius gradually answers his own question throughout the speech. Magic, in the common understanding of the term, is described much like it is in the Metamorphoses. It has been banned by Roman law since the Twelve Tables; it is repulsive and horrifying; it is secretive and isolated; it whispers its incantations in the darkness of night.[1070] It is an art associated with a bad reputation, illicit deeds, and serious crimes.[1071] Rather than simply calling it magia, Apuleius frequently refers to it using the phrase magica maleficia.[1072] Perhaps he does this on purpose. In one part, he notes that he will refute certain accusations made against him, first, by showing that the things he has been accused of have nothing to do with magic; and second, by proving that, even if he were a magician, there was no reason or opportunity for him to have committed any maleficium related to this.[1073][Pg 235] In other words, maleficium, literally “an evil deed,” refers to harm done to another through magical means. The proconsul overseeing the case shares a similar perspective and asks the accusers, Apuleius tells us,[1074] when they claimed that a woman had fallen into an epileptic seizure in his presence and that this was due to his witchcraft, whether the woman died or what benefit her having a seizure brought to Apuleius. This is important because it suggests that Roman law did not convict someone for magic unless it could be proven that they had committed a crime or gained something unjustly as a result.

Good and bad magic.

Does Apuleius for his part mean to suggest a distinction between magia and magica maleficia, and to hint, as he did not do in the Metamorphoses, that there is a good as well as a bad magic? He cannot be said to maintain any such distinction consistently; often in the Apology magia alone as well as maleficium is used in a bad sense. But he does suggest such a thought and once voices it quite explicitly.[1075] “If,” he says, “as I have read in many authors, magus in the Persian language corresponds to the word sacerdos in ours, what crime, pray, is it to be a priest and duly know and understand and cherish the rules of ceremonial, the sacred customs, the laws of religion?” Plato describes magic as part of the education of the young Persian prince by the four wisest and best men of the realm, one of whom instructs him in the magic of Zoroaster which is the worship of the gods. “Do you hear, you who rashly charge me with magic, that this art is acceptable to the immortal gods, consists in celebrating and reverencing them, is pious and prophetic, and long since was held by Zoroaster and Oromazes, its authors, to be noble and divine?”[1076] In common speech, however, Apuleius recognizes that a magician is one “who by his power of addressing the immortal gods is able to accomplish whatever he will by an almost incredible force of incantations.” But anyone who believes that another man possesses such a power as this should be afraid to accuse him,[Pg 236] says Apuleius, who thinks by this ingenious dilemma to prove the insincerity of his accusers. Nevertheless he presently mentions that Mercury, Venus, Luna, and Trivia are the deities usually summoned in the ceremonies of the magicians.[1077]

Does Apuleius suggest a difference between magia and magica maleficia, hinting that there is both good and bad magic, something he didn’t address in the Metamorphoses? He can’t be seen as consistently maintaining this distinction; often in the Apology, magia and maleficium are used negatively. But he does hint at this idea and at one point states it clearly.[1075] “If,” he says, “as I have read in many authors, magus in the Persian language means the same as sacerdos in ours, what crime is there in being a priest and rightly knowing, understanding, and valuing the rules of ceremony, the sacred customs, and the laws of religion?” Plato describes magic as part of the education for the young Persian prince by the four wisest men in the land, one of whom teaches him the magic of Zoroaster, which is the worship of the gods. “Do you hear, you who foolishly accuse me of magic, that this art is acceptable to the immortal gods, involves celebrating and honoring them, is pious and prophetic, and has long been considered noble and divine by Zoroaster and Oromazes, its founders?”[1076] In everyday language, however, Apuleius acknowledges that a magician is someone “who, through their ability to communicate with the immortal gods, can achieve whatever they want through an almost unbelievable power of incantations.” But anyone who believes that another person has such power should hesitate to accuse him, says Apuleius, who uses this clever dilemma to undermine the sincerity of his accusers. Still, he goes on to mention that Mercury, Venus, Luna, and Trivia are the deities typically invoked in the rituals of magicians.[1077]

Magic and religion.

It will be noted that Apuleius connects magic with the gods and religion more in the Apology than in the Metamorphoses. There his emphasis was on the natural materials employed by the witches and their almost scientific laboratories. But in the Apology both Persian Magi and common magicians are associated with the worship or invocation of the gods, and it is theologians rather than natural philosophers who incur suspicion of magic.

It’s worth noting that Apuleius links magic with the gods and religion more in the Apology than in the Metamorphoses. In the latter, he focuses on the natural materials used by witches and their almost scientific labs. However, in the Apology, both Persian Magi and regular magicians are connected to the worship or calling upon the gods, and it’s theologians, rather than natural philosophers, who are suspected of practicing magic.

Magic and science.

But it may be that the reason why Apuleius abstains in the Apology from suggesting any connection or confusion between magic and natural science is that the accusers have already laid far too much stress upon this point for his liking. He has been charged with the composition of a tooth-powder,[1078] with use of a mirror,[1079] with the purchase of a sea-hare, a poisonous mollusc, and two other fish appropriate from their obscene shapes and names for use as love-charms.[1080] He is said to have had a horrible wooden image or seal constructed secretly for use in his magic,[1081] to keep other instruments of his art mysteriously wrapped in a handkerchief in the house,[1082] and to have left in the vestibule of another house where he lodged “many feathers of birds” and much soot on the walls.[1083] All these charges make it evident that natural and artificial objects are, as in the Metamorphoses, considered essential or at least usual in performing magic. Moreover, so ready have the accusers shown themselves to interpret the interest of Apuleius in natural science as an evidence of the practice of magic by him, that he sarcastically remarks[1084] that he is glad that they were unaware that he had read Theophrastus On beasts that bite and sting and Ni[Pg 237]cander On the bites of wild beasts (usually called Theriaca),[1085] or they would have accused him of being a poisoner as well as a magician.

But it might be that Apuleius avoids suggesting any link or confusion between magic and natural science in the Apology because his accusers have already emphasized this point way too much for his comfort. He has been accused of making a tooth-powder, [1078] using a mirror, [1079] buying a sea-hare, a poisonous mollusk, and two other fish that, due to their scandalous shapes and names, are suitable as love-charms. [1080] He is said to have secretly had a horrible wooden image or seal made for use in his magic, [1081] to keep other instruments of his art mysteriously wrapped in a handkerchief in his home, [1082] and to have left “many feathers of birds” and a lot of soot on the walls in the vestibule of another house where he stayed. [1083] All these accusations clearly show that natural and artificial objects, as in the Metamorphoses, are considered essential or at least common in performing magic. Furthermore, the accusers have been so quick to interpret Apuleius's interest in natural science as evidence of his magical practices that he sarcastically notes [1084] that he is grateful they didn't realize he had read Theophrastus's On Beasts that Bite and Sting and Nicander's On the Bites of Wild Beasts (commonly known as Theriaca), [1085] or they would have accused him of being a poisoner in addition to being a magician.

Medical and scientific knowledge of Apuleius.

Apuleius shows that he really is a student, if not an authority, in medicine and natural science. The gift of the tooth-powder and the falling of the woman in a fit were incidents of his occasional practice of medicine, and he also sees no harm in his seeking certain remedies from fish.[1086] He repeats Plato’s theory of disease from the Timaeus and cites Theophrastus’s admirable work On Epileptics.[1087] Mention of the mirror starts him off upon an optical disquisition in which he remarks upon theories of vision and reflection, upon liquid and solid, flat and convex and concave mirrors, and cites the Catoptrica of Archimedes.[1088] He also regards himself as an experimental zoologist and has conducted all his researches publicly.[1089] He procures fish in order to study them scientifically as Aristotle, Theophrastus, Eudemus, Lycon, and other pupils of Plato did.[1090] He has read innumerable books of this sort and sees no harm in testing by experience what has been written. Indeed he is himself writing in both Greek and Latin a work on Natural Questions in which he hopes to add what has been omitted in earlier books and to remedy some of their defects and to arrange all in a handier and more systematic fashion. He has passages from the section on fishes in this work read aloud in court.

Apuleius proves that he is indeed a student, if not an expert, in medicine and natural science. The gift of the tooth powder and the incident with the woman collapsing from a seizure were examples of his occasional practice of medicine, and he doesn't see any issue with seeking certain remedies from fish.[1086] He references Plato’s theory of disease from the Timaeus and cites Theophrastus’s excellent work On Epileptics.[1087] His mention of the mirror leads him into a discussion about optics where he comments on theories of vision and reflection, as well as liquid and solid, flat and convex and concave mirrors, while citing Archimedes's Catoptrica.[1088] He also considers himself an experimental zoologist and has conducted all his research publicly.[1089] He collects fish to study them scientifically, following the example set by Aristotle, Theophrastus, Eudemus, Lycon, and other students of Plato.[1090] He has read countless books on this subject and sees no problem with testing through experience what has been written. In fact, he is currently writing in both Greek and Latin a work on Natural Questions, in which he hopes to fill in gaps from earlier texts, correct some of their shortcomings, and organize everything in a more convenient and systematic way. He has passages from the section on fish in this work read aloud in court.

He repeats familiar errors.

Throughout the Apology Apuleius occasionally airs his scientific attainments by specific statements and illustrations from the zoological and other scientific fields. Indeed the[Pg 238] presence of such allusions is as noticeable in the Apology as was their absence from the Metamorphoses. But they go to show that his knowledge was greater than his discretion, since for the most part they repeat familiar errors of contemporary science. We are told—the story is also in Aristotle, Pliny, and Aelian—how the crocodile opens its jaws to have its teeth picked by a friendly bird,[1091] that the viper gnaws its way out of its mother’s womb,[1092] that fish are spontaneously generated from slime,[1093] and that burning the stone gagates will cause an epileptic to have a fit.[1094] On the other hand, the skin shed by a spotted lizard is a remedy for epilepsy, but you must snatch it up speedily or the lizard will turn and devour it, either from natural appetite or just because he knows that you want it.[1095] This tale, so characteristic of the virtues attributed to parts of animals and the human motives ascribed to the animals themselves, is taken by Apuleius from a treatise by Theophrastus entitled Jealous Animals.

Throughout the Apology, Apuleius occasionally showcases his scientific knowledge with specific statements and examples from zoology and other scientific areas. In fact, the presence of such references is as evident in the Apology as their absence was in the Metamorphoses. However, these references indicate that his knowledge exceeded his judgment, as they mostly repeat common misconceptions of contemporary science. We hear—this story is also found in Aristotle, Pliny, and Aelian—about how the crocodile opens its jaws to let a friendly bird clean its teeth, [1091] that the viper gnaws its way out of its mother’s womb, [1092] that fish are spontaneously generated from slime, [1093] and that burning the stone gagates will trigger a seizure in someone with epilepsy. [1094] On the flip side, shedding skin from a spotted lizard is said to cure epilepsy, but you must grab it quickly or the lizard will turn around and eat it, either from natural instinct or just because it knows you want it. [1095] This story, which is typical of the virtues attributed to animal parts and the human-like motivations ascribed to animals themselves, is taken by Apuleius from a treatise by Theophrastus called Jealous Animals.

Apparent ignorance of magic and occult virtue.

In defending what he terms his scientific investigations from the aspersion of magic Apuleius is at times either a trifle disingenuous and inclined to trade upon the ignorance of his judge and accusers, or else not as well informed himself as he might be in matters of natural science and of occult science. He contends that fish are not employed in magic arts, asks mockingly if fish alone possess some property hidden from other men and known to magicians, and affirms that if the accuser knows of any such he must be a magician rather than Apuleius.[1096] He insists that he did not make use of a sea-hare and describes the “fish” in question in detail,[1097] but this description, as is pointed out in Butler and Owen’s edition of the Apology,[1098] tends to convince us that it really was a sea-hare. In the case of the two fish with obscene names, he ridicules the arguing from similarity of names to similarity of powers in the things so designated, as[Pg 239] if that were not what magicians and astrologers and believers in sympathy and antipathy were always doing. You might as well say, he declares, that a pebble is good for the stone and a crab for an ulcer,[1099] as if precisely these remedies for those diseases were not found in the Pseudo-Dioscorides and in Pliny’s Natural History.[1100]

In defending what he calls his scientific investigations against accusations of magic, Apuleius sometimes appears a bit insincere and seems to take advantage of the ignorance of his judge and accusers, or he might not be as knowledgeable himself as he could be about natural science and the occult. He argues that fish aren’t used in magic, mockingly asks if fish alone have some property that’s unknown to others but known to magicians, and claims that if the accuser is aware of any such property, they must be a magician, not him.[1096] He insists that he didn’t use a sea-hare and describes the “fish” in question in detail,[1097] but this description, as noted in Butler and Owen’s edition of the Apology,[1098] tends to make us believe it actually was a sea-hare. Regarding the two fish with inappropriate names, he mocks the idea of arguing from similarities in names to similarities in the properties of the things named, as[Pg 239] if that isn’t what magicians, astrologers, and those who believe in sympathy and antipathy always do. You might as well claim, he says, that a pebble is good for stones and a crab for an ulcer,[1099] as if those remedies for those ailments aren’t found in the Pseudo-Dioscorides and in Pliny’s Natural History.[1100]

Despite an assumption of knowledge.

It is hardly probable that in the passages just cited Apuleius was pretending to be ignorant of matters with which he was really acquainted, since as a rule he is eager to show off his knowledge even of magic itself. Thus the accusers affirmed that he had bewitched a boy by incantations in a secret place with an altar and a lamp; Apuleius criticizes their story by saying that they should have added that he employed the boy for purposes of divination, citing tales which he has read to this effect in Varro and many other authors.[1101] And he himself is ready to believe that the human soul, especially in one who is still young and innocent, may, if soothed and distracted by incantations and odors, forget the present, return to its divine and immortal nature, and predict the future. When he reads some technical Greek names from his treatise on fishes, he suspects that the accuser will protest that he is uttering magic names in some Egyptian or Babylonian rite.[1102] And as a matter of fact, when later he mentioned the names of a number of celebrated magicians,[1103] the accusers appear to have raised such a tumult that Apuleius deemed it prudent to assure the judge that he had simply read them in reputable books in public libraries, and that to know such names was one thing, to practice the magic art quite another matter.

It's unlikely that in the cited passages Apuleius was pretending to be unaware of things he actually understood, since he usually loves to flaunt his knowledge, even about magic itself. The accusers claimed that he had enchanted a boy through incantations in a hidden spot with an altar and a lamp; Apuleius counters their tale by pointing out that they should have mentioned he used the boy for divination, referencing stories he read in Varro and many other authors.[1101] He himself is inclined to believe that the human soul, especially in someone still young and innocent, can, if calmed and distracted by incantations and scents, forget the present, return to its divine and immortal state, and foresee the future. When he reads some technical Greek names from his work on fish, he suspects that the accuser will claim he is reciting magical names in some Egyptian or Babylonian ritual.[1102] In fact, when he later mentioned several famous magicians,[1103] the accusers seemed to create such a stir that Apuleius thought it wise to clarify to the judge that he had simply read those names in reputable books from public libraries, and that knowing such names is one thing, while practicing magic is quite another.

Attitude toward astrology.

Apuleius affirms that one of his accusers had consulted he knows not what Chaldeans how he might profitably marry off his daughter, and that they had prophesied truthfully that her first husband would die within a few months. “As for what she would inherit from him, they fixed that up, as[Pg 240] they usually do, to suit the person consulting them.”[1104] But in this respect their prediction turned out to be quite incorrect. We are left in some doubt, however, whether their failure in the second case is not regarded as due merely to their knavery, and their first successful prediction to the rule of the stars. Elsewhere, however, Apuleius does state that belief in fate and in magic are incompatible, since there is no place left for the force of spells and incantations, if everything is ruled by fate.[1105] But in other extant works[1106] he speaks of the heavenly bodies as visible gods, and Laurentius Lydus attributes astrological treatises to him.[1107]

Apuleius claims that one of his accusers consulted some Chaldeans to figure out how he could successfully marry off his daughter, and they accurately predicted that her first husband would die within a few months. “As for what she would inherit from him, they adjusted that, as[Pg 240] they usually do, to suit the person asking.”[1104] However, in this case, their prediction turned out to be quite wrong. We're left uncertain, though, if their failure in the second case is just seen as a result of their deceit, and their first successful prediction attributed to the movements of the stars. In other contexts, Apuleius does say that believing in fate and magic can't coexist because if everything is determined by fate, there's no room for the power of spells and incantations.[1105] Yet in other works[1106] he describes the celestial bodies as visible deities, and Laurentius Lydus credits him with astrological writings.[1107]

His theory of demons.

In one passage of the Apology Apuleius affirms his belief with Plato in the existence of certain intermediate beings or powers between gods and men, who govern all divinations and the miracles of the magicians.[1108] In the treatise on the god or demon of Socrates[1109] he repeats this thought and tells us more of these mediators or demons. Their native element is the air, which Apuleius thought extended as far as the moon,[1110] just as Aristotle[1111] tells of animals who live in fire and are extinguished with it, and just as the fifth element, that “divine and inviolable” ether, contains the divine bodies of the stars. With the superior gods the demons have immortality in common, but like mortals they are subject to passions and to feeling and capable of reason.[1112] But their bodies are very light and like clouds, a point peculiar to themselves.[1113] Since both Plutarch and Apuleius wrote essays on the demon of Socrates and both derived, or thought that they derived, their theories concerning demons from Plato, it is interesting to note some divergences between their accounts. Apuleius confines them to the atmosphere beneath the moon more exclusively than Plutarch does; unlike Plutarch he represents them as immortal, not merely long-lived; and he has more to say about the sub[Pg 241]stance of their bodies and less concerning their relations with disembodied souls.

In one part of the Apology, Apuleius expresses his belief, like Plato, in the existence of certain intermediate beings or powers between gods and humans that oversee all divinations and the miracles performed by magicians.[1108] In his treatise on the god or demon of Socrates[1109], he reiterates this idea and provides more information about these mediators or demons. Their natural element is air, which Apuleius believed reached as far as the moon,[1110] just as Aristotle[1111] describes animals that live in fire and perish with it, and as the fifth element, the “divine and inviolable” ether, encompasses the divine bodies of the stars. While they share immortality with the superior gods, demons, like mortals, are subject to emotions and sensations and are capable of reasoning.[1112] However, their bodies are very light and cloud-like, which is a unique characteristic of theirs.[1113] Since both Plutarch and Apuleius wrote essays on the demon of Socrates and both believed that their ideas about demons were derived from Plato, it's interesting to note some differences between their accounts. Apuleius restricts them to the atmosphere beneath the moon more strictly than Plutarch does; unlike Plutarch, he depicts them as immortal rather than simply long-lived; and he elaborates more on the substance of their bodies and less on their connections with disembodied souls.

Apuleius in the middle ages.

Apuleius would have been a well-known name in the middle ages, if only indirectly through the use made by Augustine in The City of God[1114] of the Metamorphoses in describing magic and of the De deo Socratis in discussing demons.[1115] He also speaks of Apuleius in three of his letters,[1116] declaring that for all his magic arts he could win neither a throne nor judicial power. Augustine was not quite sure whether Apuleius had actually been transformed into an ass or not. A century earlier Lactantius[1117] spoke of the many marvels remembered of Apuleius. That manuscripts of the Metamorphoses, Apology and Florida were not numerous until after the twelfth and thirteenth centuries may be inferred from the fact that all the extant manuscripts seem to be derived from a single one of the later eleventh century, written in a Lombard hand and perhaps from Monte Cassino.[1118] The article on Apuleius in Pauly and Wissowa states that the best manuscripts of his other works are an eleventh century codex at Brussels and a twelfth century manuscript at Munich,[1119] but does not mention a twelfth century manuscript of the De deo Socratis in the British Museum.[1120] Another indication that in the twelfth century there were manuscripts of Apuleius in England or at Chartres and Paris is that John of Salisbury borrows from the De dogmate Platonis in his De nugis curialium.[1121] In the earlier middle ages there was ascribed to Apuleius a work on herbs of which we shall treat later.

Apuleius would have been a well-known figure in the middle ages, even if only indirectly through Augustine's use of the Metamorphoses in The City of God[1114] to describe magic and the De deo Socratis to discuss demons.[1115] Augustine also mentions Apuleius in three of his letters,[1116] stating that despite all his magical abilities, he could achieve neither a throne nor judicial power. Augustine wasn't entirely sure if Apuleius had really been transformed into an ass or not. A century earlier, Lactantius[1117] talked about the many wonders associated with Apuleius. The scarcity of manuscripts of the Metamorphoses, Apology, and Florida until after the twelfth and thirteenth centuries can be inferred from the fact that all surviving manuscripts seem to have come from a single later eleventh-century copy, written in a Lombard script and possibly from Monte Cassino.[1118] The article on Apuleius in Pauly and Wissowa states that the best manuscripts of his other works are an eleventh-century codex in Brussels and a twelfth-century manuscript in Munich,[1119] but it doesn't mention a twelfth-century manuscript of the De deo Socratis in the British Museum.[1120] Another indication that there were Apuleius manuscripts in England or at Chartres and Paris in the twelfth century is that John of Salisbury references the De dogmate Platonis in his De nugis curialium.[1121] In the earlier middle ages, a work on herbs was attributed to Apuleius, which we will discuss later.


[Pg 242]

[Pg 242]

CHAPTER VIII
PHILOSTRATUS’S LIFE OF APOLLONIUS OF TYANA

Compared with Apuleius—Philostratus’s sources—Time and space covered—Philostratus’s audience—Object of the Life—Apollonius charged with magic—A confusion of terms—The Magi and magic—Apollonius and the Magi—Philostratus on wizards—Apollonius and wizards—Quacks and old-wives—The Brahmans—Marvels of the Brahmans—Magical methods of the Brahmans—Medicine of the Brahmans—Some signs of astrology—Interest in natural science—Natural law or special providence?—Cases of scepticism—Anecdotes of animals—Dragons of India—Occult virtues of gems—Absence of number mysticism—Mantike or the art of divination—Divining power of Apollonius—Dreams—Interpretation of omens—Animals and divination—Divination by fire—Other so-called predictions—Apollonius and the demons—Not all demons are evil—Philostratus’s faith in demons—The ghost of Achilles—Healing the sick and raising the dead—Other marvels—Golden wrynecks and the iunx—Why named iunx?—Apollonius in the middle ages.

Compared with Apuleius—Philostratus’s sources—Time and space covered—Philostratus’s audience—The purpose of the Life—Apollonius accused of magic—A mix-up of terms—The Magi and magic—Apollonius and the Magi—Philostratus on wizards—Apollonius and wizards—Frauds and old wives—The Brahmans—The wonders of the Brahmans—The magical practices of the Brahmans—The medicine of the Brahmans—Some signs of astrology—Interest in natural science—Natural law or special providence?—Instances of skepticism—Anecdotes about animals—Dragons of India—Occult powers of gems—Lack of number mysticism—Mantike or the art of divination—The divining ability of Apollonius—Dreams—Reading omens—Animals and divination—Divination by fire—Other so-called prophecies—Apollonius and the demons—Not all demons are malevolent—Philostratus’s belief in demons—The ghost of Achilles—Healing the sick and bringing the dead back to life—Other wonders—Golden wrynecks and the iunx—Why called iunx?—Apollonius in the Middle Ages.

Compared with Apuleius.

Some fifty years after the birth of Apuleius occurred that of Philostratus, whose career and interests were somewhat similar, although he came from the Aegean island of Lemnos instead of the neighborhood of Carthage and wrote in Greek rather than Latin. But like Apuleius he was a student of rhetoric and went first to Athens and then to Rome. The resemblance is perhaps closer between Apuleius and Apollonius of Tyana, whose life Philostratus wrote and of whom we know more than of his biographer. Like Apuleius Apollonius had to defend himself in court against the accusation of magic, and Philostratus gives us what purports to be his apology on that occasion. Two centuries afterwards Augustine in one of his letters[1122] names Apollonius and Apuleius as examples of men who were addicted to the magic art and who, the pagans said, performed greater[Pg 243] miracles than Christ did. A century before Augustine Lactantius states[1123] that a certain philosopher who had “vomited forth” three books “against the Christian religion and name” had compared the miracles of Apollonius favorably with those of Christ; Lactantius marvels that he did not mention Apuleius as well. Like Apuleius, Apollonius was a man of broad learning who traveled widely and sought initiation into mysteries and cults. Apuleius was a Platonist; Apollonius, a Pythagorean. We may also note a resemblance between the Metamorphoses and the Life of Apollonius. Both seem to elaborate earlier writings and both have much to say of transformations, wizards, demons, and the occult. The Life of Apollonius of Tyana, however, must be taken more seriously than the Metamorphoses. If the African’s work is a rhetorical romance embodying a certain autobiographical element, a Milesian tale to which personal religious experiences are annexed, then the work by Philostratus is a rhetorical biography with a tinge of romance and a good deal of sermonizing.

About fifty years after Apuleius was born, Philostratus came onto the scene. Their careers and interests were somewhat similar, although Philostratus hailed from the Aegean island of Lemnos instead of the Carthage area and wrote in Greek instead of Latin. Like Apuleius, he studied rhetoric and first went to Athens and then to Rome. The similarities are perhaps even closer between Apuleius and Apollonius of Tyana, whose life Philostratus wrote about, and we know more about him than his biographer. Like Apuleius, Apollonius had to defend himself in court against accusations of magic, and Philostratus presents what he claims is Apollonius's defense during that incident. Two centuries later, Augustine mentions Apollonius and Apuleius in one of his letters, pointing them out as examples of men who were into magic and who, as the pagans said, performed greater miracles than Christ. A century before Augustine, Lactantius mentioned that a certain philosopher had “vomited forth” three books “against the Christian religion and name,” comparing the miracles of Apollonius favorably to those of Christ; Lactantius was surprised that he didn’t mention Apuleius as well. Like Apuleius, Apollonius was well-educated, traveled widely, and sought initiation into various mysteries and cults. Apuleius was a Platonist; Apollonius was a Pythagorean. There’s also a similarity between the Metamorphoses and the Life of Apollonius. Both seem to expand upon earlier writings and have a lot to say about transformations, wizards, demons, and the occult. However, the Life of Apollonius of Tyana should be taken more seriously than the Metamorphoses. If the African's work is a rhetorical romance with some autobiographical elements, a Milesian tale with personal religious experiences attached, then Philostratus's work is a rhetorical biography with a touch of romance and plenty of sermonizing.

Philostratus’s sources.

Philostratus[1124] composed the Life of Apollonius about 217 A. D. at the request of the learned wife of the emperor Septimius Severus, to whose literary circle he belonged. The empress had come into possession of some hitherto unknown memoirs of Apollonius by a certain Damis of Nineveh, who had been his disciple and had accompanied him upon many of his travels. Some member of Damis’s family had brought these documents to the empress’s attention. Some scholars incline to the view that she was deceived by an impostor, but it hardly seems that there would be sufficient profit in the venture to induce anyone to take the pains to forge such memoirs. Also I can see no reason why a contemporary of Apollonius should not have said and believed everything which Philostratus represents Damis as saying; on the contrary it seems to me just what would be[Pg 244] said by a naïf, gullible, and devoted disciple, who was inclined to exaggerate the abilities and achievements of his master and to take literally everything that Apollonius uttered ironically or figuratively. Other accounts of Apollonius were already in existence by a Maximus of Aegae, where Apollonius had spent part of his life, and by Moeragenes, but the memoirs of Damis seem to have offered much new material. Philostratus accordingly wrote a new life based largely upon Damis, but also making use of the will and epistles of Apollonius, many of which the emperor Hadrian had earlier collected, and of the traditions still current in the cities and temples which Apollonius had frequented and which Philostratus now took the trouble to visit. It has sometimes been suggested, chiefly by Christian writers intent upon discrediting the career of Apollonius, that Philostratus invented Damis and his memoirs. But Philostratus seems straightforward in describing the pains he has been to in preparing the Life, and certainly is more explicit and systematic in stating his sources than other ancient biographers like Plutarch and Suetonius are. He appears to follow his sources rather closely and not to invent new incidents, although he may, like Thucydides and other ancient historians, have taken liberties with the speeches and arguments put into his characters’ mouths. And through the work, despite his belief in demons and marvels, he now and then gives evidence of a moderate and sceptical mind, at least for his times.

Philostratus wrote the Life of Apollonius around 217 A.D. at the request of the educated wife of Emperor Septimius Severus, part of whose literary circle he was. The empress had acquired some previously unknown memoirs of Apollonius by Damis of Nineveh, who had been his disciple and traveled with him extensively. A member of Damis’s family had brought these documents to the empress’s attention. Some scholars think she was fooled by a fraudster, but it seems unlikely that anyone would bother to forge such memoirs for profit. I also see no reason why someone who lived at the same time as Apollonius wouldn’t have said and believed everything that Philostratus attributes to Damis; in fact, it seems typical of a naïve, gullible, and devoted disciple to exaggerate his master's abilities and take everything Apollonius said literally, even if it was meant ironically or figuratively. Other accounts of Apollonius existed by Maximus of Aegae, where Apollonius spent part of his life, and by Moeragenes, but Damis's memoirs seem to provide a lot of new insights. Therefore, Philostratus wrote a new biography largely based on Damis's work, but he also used the will and letters of Apollonius, many of which Emperor Hadrian had collected earlier, and the ongoing traditions in the cities and temples that Apollonius had visited, which Philostratus took the time to explore. Some have suggested, mainly Christian writers trying to undermine Apollonius’s reputation, that Philostratus invented Damis and his memoirs. However, Philostratus seems sincere about the effort he put into preparing the Life, and he clearly details his sources more explicitly and systematically than other ancient biographers like Plutarch and Suetonius. He appears to adhere closely to his sources rather than making up new events, although, like Thucydides and other ancient historians, he may have taken liberties with the speeches and arguments he recorded. Throughout the work, despite his belief in demons and wonders, he occasionally shows signs of a moderate and skeptical mindset for his time.

Time and space covered.

Apollonius lived in the first century of our era and died during the reign of Nerva well advanced in years. It is therefore of a period over a century before his own that Philostratus writes. He is said to commit a number of errors in history and geography,[1125] but we must remember that mistakes in geography were a failing of the best ancient his[Pg 245]torians such as Polybius, and the general picture drawn of the emperors and politics of Apollonius’s time is not far wrong. It is true that Philostratus also makes use of tradition which has gradually formed since the death of Apollonius, and introduces explanations or comments of his own on various matters. It is, however, not the facts either of Apollonius’s career or of his times that concern us but the beliefs and superstitions which we find in Philostratus’s Life of him. Whether these are of the first, second, or early third century is scarcely necessary or possible for us to distinguish. If Damis records them, Philostratus accepts them, and the probability is that they apply not only to all three centuries but to a long period before and after. The territory covered in the Life is almost as extensive; it ranges all over the Roman Empire, alludes occasionally to the Celts and Scythians, and opens up Ethiopia and India[1126] to our gaze. Apollonius was a great traveler and there are many interesting and informing passages concerning ships, sailing, pilots, merchants and sea-trade.[1127]

Apollonius lived in the first century AD and died during Nerva's reign, having lived a long life. Therefore, Philostratus writes about a period more than a century before his own time. He is said to have made several errors regarding history and geography, but we must remember that mistakes in geography were a common issue even among the best ancient historians like Polybius. The overall depiction of the emperors and politics during Apollonius's time is mostly accurate. It's true that Philostratus relies on traditions that developed after Apollonius's death and adds his own explanations or comments on various topics. However, what concerns us are not the facts of Apollonius’s life or his era, but the beliefs and superstitions found in Philostratus’s Life of him. Whether these beliefs are from the first, second, or early third century is not crucial or possible for us to determine. If Damis recorded them, Philostratus accepted them, and it’s likely they apply not just to those three centuries but to an extended period before and after. The scope covered in the Life is quite broad; it spans the entire Roman Empire, occasionally mentions the Celts and Scythians, and introduces us to Ethiopia and India. Apollonius was a great traveler, and there are many fascinating and informative sections about ships, sailing, pilots, merchants, and maritime trade.

Philostratus’s audience.

If we ask further, for what class of readers was the Life intended, the answer is, for the intellectual and learned. Apollonius himself was distinctly a Hellene. Philostratus represents him as often quoting Homer and other bygone Greek authors, or mentioning names from early Greek history such as Lycurgus and Aristides. One of his aims was to restore the degenerate Greek cities of his own day to their ancient morality. Furthermore, Apollonius never cared for many disciples, and neither required them to observe all the rules of life which he himself followed, nor admitted them to all his interviews with other sages and his initiations into sacred mysteries. This aloofness of the sage is somewhat reflected in his biographer. The Life is an attempt not to[Pg 246] popularize the teachings of Apollonius but to justify him before the learned world.

If we dig deeper into who the Life was aimed at, the answer is the educated and intellectual crowd. Apollonius was clearly a Greek. Philostratus shows him often quoting Homer and other ancient Greek writers, as well as mentioning figures from early Greek history like Lycurgus and Aristides. One of his goals was to bring the decayed Greek cities of his time back to their former moral standards. Additionally, Apollonius didn’t care for having many followers, didn’t insist that they follow all the lifestyle rules he adhered to, and didn’t allow them to join him in all his meetings with other wise people or in his initiation into sacred mysteries. This distance of the sage is somewhat mirrored in his biographer. The Life is an effort not to[Pg 246] make Apollonius's teachings popular but to defend him in the eyes of the educated world.

Object of the Life.

The charge had been frequently made that Apollonius came illegitimately by his wisdom and acquired it violently by magic. Philostratus would restore him to the ranks of true philosophers who gained wisdom by worthy and licit methods. He declares that he was not a wizard, as many suppose, but a notable Pythagorean, a man of broad culture, an intellectual and moral teacher, a religious ascetic and reformer, probably even a prophet of divine and superhuman nature. It is not now so generally held by Christian writers as it used to be that Philostratus wrote the Life with the Gospel story of Christ in mind, and that his purpose was to imitate or to parody or to oppose a rival narrative to the Christian story and teaching. At no point in the Life does Philostratus betray unmistakably even a passing acquaintance with the Gospels, much less display any sign of animus against them. Moreover, the Christian historian and apologist, Eusebius, who lived in the century following Philostratus and was familiar with his Life of Apollonius, in writing a reply to a treatise in which Hierocles, a provincial governor under Diocletian, had compared Apollonius with Jesus, distinctly states that Hierocles was the first to suggest such an idea.[1128] Such similarities then as may exist between the Life and the Gospels must be taken as examples of beliefs common to that age.

The accusation was often made that Apollonius gained his wisdom in an illegitimate way and violently through magic. Philostratus aimed to place him back among genuine philosophers who acquired wisdom through respectable and legitimate means. He asserts that Apollonius was not a wizard, as many believe, but a distinguished Pythagorean, a man of extensive knowledge, a teacher of both intellect and morals, a religious ascetic and reformer, and likely even a prophet of divine and extraordinary nature. Nowadays, it is not as widely accepted by Christian writers as it once was that Philostratus wrote the Life with the story of Christ in mind, intending to imitate, parody, or counter the Christian narrative and teachings. At no point in the Life does Philostratus clearly show any familiarity with the Gospels, let alone exhibit any hostility towards them. Additionally, the Christian historian and apologist, Eusebius, who lived in the century following Philostratus and was familiar with his Life of Apollonius, clearly states in his response to a work by Hierocles, a provincial governor under Diocletian, who had compared Apollonius to Jesus, that Hierocles was the first to propose such an idea. Thus, any similarities that may exist between the Life and the Gospels should be interpreted as reflections of beliefs prevalent during that time.

Apollonius charged with magic.

Apollonius was accused of sorcery or magic during his lifetime by the rival philosopher Euphrates. The four books on Apollonius written by Moeragenes also portrayed him as a wizard;[1129] and Eusebius in his reply to Hierocles ascribed the miracles wrought by Apollonius to sorcery and the aid of evil demons.[1130] Earlier the satirist Lucian de[Pg 247]scribed Alexander the pseudo-prophet as having been in his youth an apprentice to “one of the charlatans who deal in magic and mystic incantations, ... a native of Tyana, an associate of the great Apollonius, and acquainted with all his heroics.”[1131]

Apollonius was accused of practicing sorcery or magic during his lifetime by the competing philosopher Euphrates. The four books about Apollonius written by Moeragenes also depicted him as a wizard;[1129] and Eusebius, in his response to Hierocles, attributed the miracles performed by Apollonius to sorcery and the help of evil demons.[1130] Earlier, the satirist Lucian described Alexander the false prophet as having been an apprentice in his youth to “one of the charlatans who deal in magic and mystic incantations, ... a native of Tyana, an associate of the great Apollonius, and familiar with all his heroic deeds.”[1131]

A confusion of terms

In defending his hero against these charges Philostratus is guilty himself both of some ambiguous use of terms and of some loose thinking. The same ambiguous terminology, however, will be found in other discussions of magic. In a few passages Philostratus denies that Apollonius was a μάγος but much oftener exculpates him from the charge of being a γόης or γοήτης. With the latter word or words there is no difficulty. It means a wizard, sorcerer, or enchanter, and is always employed in a sinister or disreputable sense. With the term μάγος the case is different, as with the Latin magus. It may signify an evil magician, or it may refer to one of the Magi of the East, who are generally regarded as wise and good men. This delicate distinction, however, is not easy to maintain and Philostratus fails to do so, while Mr. Conybeare in his English translation[1132] makes confusion worse confounded not only by translating μάγος as “wizard” instead of “magician,” but by sometimes doing this when it really should be rendered as “one of the Magi.” It may also be noted that Philostratus locates the Magi in Babylonia as well as in Persia.

In defending his hero against these accusations, Philostratus is somewhat guilty of ambiguous language and loose reasoning. However, the same unclear terminology can be found in other discussions of magic. In a few passages, Philostratus denies that Apollonius was a μάγος, but more often, he clears him of the accusation of being a γόης or γοήτης. The latter terms are straightforward. They refer to a wizard, sorcerer, or enchanter, and are used always in a negative or disreputable way. The term μάγος is different, as is the Latin magus. It can mean an evil magician, or it can refer to one of the Magi of the East, who are usually seen as wise and good. This subtle distinction, however, is hard to maintain, and Philostratus fails to do so, while Mr. Conybeare in his English translation[1132] complicates the issue further by translating μάγος as “wizard” instead of “magician,” and sometimes using it when it should actually be interpreted as “one of the Magi.” It’s also worth noting that Philostratus places the Magi in both Babylonia and Persia.

The Magi and magic

To begin with, in his second chapter Philostratus says that some consider Apollonius a magician “because he consorted with the Magi of the Babylonians, and the Brahmans of the Indians, and the Gymnosophists in Egypt.” But they are wrong in this. “For Empedocles and Pythagoras himself and Democritus, although they associated with the Magi and spake many divine utterances, yet did not stoop to the art” (of magic). Plato, too, he goes on to say, although[Pg 248] he visited Egypt and its priests and prophets, was never regarded as a magician. In this passage, then, Philostratus closely associates the Magi with the magic art, and I am not sure whether the last “Magi” should not be “magicians.” On the other hand his acquittal of Democritus and Pythagoras from the charge of magic does not agree with Pliny, who ascribed a large amount of magic to them both.

To start, in his second chapter, Philostratus mentions that some people view Apollonius as a magician “because he interacted with the Magi of Babylon, the Brahmans of India, and the Gymnosophists in Egypt.” However, they are mistaken. “For Empedocles and Pythagoras himself, along with Democritus, even though they associated with the Magi and made many divine statements, did not resort to the practice” (of magic). He also notes that Plato, despite visiting Egypt and its priests and prophets, was never seen as a magician. In this passage, Philostratus strongly ties the Magi to the practice of magic, and I wonder if the last “Magi” should actually read as “magicians.” Conversely, his defense of Democritus and Pythagoras from the accusation of magic contradicts Pliny, who attributed a significant amount of magic to both of them.

Apollonius and the Magi.

Apollonius himself evidently did not regard the Magi whom he met in Babylon and Susa as evil magicians. One of the chief aims of his scheme of oriental travel “was to acquaint himself thoroughly with their lore.” He wished to discover whether they were wise in divine things, as they were said to be[1133]. Sacrifices and religious rites were performed under their supervision[1134]. Apollonius did not permit Damis to accompany him when he visited the Magi at noon and again about midnight and conversed with them[1135]. But Apollonius himself said that he learned some things from them and taught them some things; he told Damis that they were “wise men, but not in all respects”; on leaving their country he asked the king to give the presents which the monarch had intended for Apollonius himself to the Magi, whom he described then as “men who both are wise and wholly devoted to you.”[1136]

Apollonius clearly didn’t see the Magi he encountered in Babylon and Susa as evil magicians. One of his main goals for his travels in the East was to fully understand their knowledge. He wanted to find out if they were truly wise about divine matters, as people claimed. Sacrifices and religious ceremonies were carried out under their guidance. Apollonius didn’t allow Damis to join him when he visited the Magi at noon and then again around midnight to talk with them. However, Apollonius stated that he learned some things from them and also taught them a few things; he told Damis that they were “wise men, but not in every sense.” When leaving their land, he asked the king to give the gifts that the king had planned for him to the Magi, whom he then described as “men who are both wise and entirely devoted to you.”

Philostratus on wizards.

Quite different is the attitude towards witchcraft and wizards of both Apollonius and his biographer. In the opinion of Philostratus wizards are of all men most wretched[1137]. They try to violate nature and to overcome fate by such methods as inquisition of spirits, barbaric sacrifices, incantations and besmearings. Simple-minded folk attribute great powers to them; and athletes desirous of winning victories, shopkeepers intent upon success in business ventures, and lovers in especial are continually resorting to them and apparently never lose faith in them despite repeated failures, despite occasional exposure or ridicule of their methods in[Pg 249] books and writing, and despite the condemnation of witchcraft both by law and nature.[1138] Apollonius was certainly no wizard, argues Philostratus, for he never opposed the Fates but only predicted what they would bring to pass, and he acquired this foreknowledge not by sorcery but by divine revelation.[1139]

The attitudes towards witchcraft and wizards are quite different between Apollonius and his biographer. Philostratus believes that wizards are the most miserable of all men. They attempt to defy nature and alter fate through tactics like spirit inquiries, barbaric sacrifices, incantations, and smear rituals. Naive people attribute great powers to them; athletes eager for victories, shopkeepers focused on successful business deals, and especially lovers frequently turn to them and seem to keep their faith in them, even after repeated failures, exposure, or ridicule of their methods in[Pg 249] books and literature, as well as the condemnation of witchcraft by both law and nature. Philostratus argues that Apollonius was certainly not a wizard, as he never challenged the Fates but merely predicted what they would bring to pass, and he gained this foreknowledge, not through sorcery, but through divine revelation.

Apollonius and wizards.

Nevertheless Apollonius is frequently accused of being a wizard by others in the pages of Philostratus. At Athens he was refused initiation into the mysteries on this ground,[1140] and at Lebadea the priests wished to exclude him from the oracular cave of Trophonius for the same reason.[1141] When the dogs guarding the temple of Dictynna in Crete fawned upon him instead of barking at his approach, the guardians of the shrine arrested him as a wizard and would-be temple robber who had bewitched the dogs by something that he had given them to eat.[1142] Apollonius also had to defend himself against the accusation of witchcraft in his hearing or trial before Domitian.[1143] He then denied that one is a wizard merely because one has prescience, or that wearing linen garments proves one a sorcerer. Wizards shun the shrines and temples of the gods; they make use of trenches dug in the earth and invoke the gods of the lower world. They are greedy for gain and pseudo-philosophers. They possess no true science, depending for success in their art upon the stupidity of their dupes and devotees. They imagine what does not exist and disbelieve the truth. They work their sorcery by night and in darkness when those employing them cannot see or hear well. Apollonius himself was accused to Domitian of having sacrificed an Arcadian boy at night and consulted his entrails with Nerva in order to determine the latter’s prospects of becoming emperor.[1144] When before his trial Domitian was about to put Apollonius in fetters, the sage proposed the dilemma that if he were a wizard he could not be kept in bonds, or that if Domitian were able[Pg 250] to fetter him, he was obviously no wizard.[1145] This need not imply, however, that Apollonius believed that wizards really could free themselves, for he was at times ironical. If so, Domitian replied in kind by assuring him that he would at least keep him in fetters until he transformed himself into water or a wild beast or a tree.

Nevertheless, Apollonius is often accused of being a wizard by others in Philostratus's writings. In Athens, he was denied initiation into the mysteries for this reason, [1140] and in Lebadea, the priests wanted to exclude him from the oracular cave of Trophonius for the same reason.[1141] When the dogs guarding the temple of Dictynna in Crete showed affection towards him instead of barking as he approached, the guardians of the shrine arrested him as a wizard and potential temple thief, claiming he had enchanted the dogs with something he had given them to eat.[1142] Apollonius also had to defend himself against witchcraft charges during his trial before Domitian.[1143] He argued that one isn't a wizard just because one has foresight, nor does wearing linen prove someone is a sorcerer. Wizards avoid the shrines and temples of the gods; they use trenches dug in the ground and call upon the gods of the underworld. They are motivated by greed and are false philosophers. They have no true knowledge, relying on the gullibility of their victims and followers for their success. They create illusions and deny the truth. They practice their sorcery at night and in darkness when those who hire them cannot see or hear well. Apollonius himself was accused before Domitian of having sacrificed an Arcadian boy at night and examined his entrails with Nerva to see if he would become emperor.[1144] When Domitian was about to put Apollonius in chains before his trial, the sage posed a dilemma: if he were a wizard, he couldn’t be bound; and if Domitian could restrain him, he was clearly not a wizard.[1145] This doesn’t necessarily mean that Apollonius believed wizards could actually free themselves, as he sometimes spoke ironically. In response, Domitian assured him that he would keep him in chains until he turned into water, a wild animal, or a tree.

Quacks and old-wives.

Closely akin to the goëtes or wizards are the old hags and quack-doctors who offer one Indian spices or boxes supposed to contain bits of stone taken from the moon, stars, or depths of earth.[1146] Likewise the divining old-wives who go about with sieves in their hands and pretend by means of their divination to heal sick animals for shepherds and cowherds.[1147] We also read that Apollonius expelled from the cities along the Hellespont various Egyptians and Chaldeans who were collecting money on the pretense of offering sacrifices to avert the earthquakes which were then occurring.[1148]

Closely related to the goëtes or wizards are the old hags and quack doctors who sell Indian spices or boxes that supposedly contain pieces of stone from the moon, stars, or the depths of the earth.[1146] Similarly, there are the fortune-telling old women who walk around with sieves and claim they can heal sick animals for shepherds and cowherds through their divination.[1147] We also read that Apollonius drove various Egyptians and Chaldeans out of the cities along the Hellespont for collecting money under the false claim of offering sacrifices to stop the earthquakes that were happening at the time.[1148]

The Brahmans.

We have heard Philostratus mention the Brahmans of India in the same breath with the Magi of Persia and imply that Apollonius’s association with them contributed to his reputation as a magician.[1149] In another passage[1150] Philostratus places goëtes and Brahmans in unfortunate juxtaposition, and, immediately after condemning the wizards and defending Apollonius from the charge of sorcery, goes on to say that when he saw the automatic tripods and cup-bearers of the Indians, he did not ask how they were operated. “He applauded them, it is true, but did not think fit to imitate them.” But of course Apollonius should not even have applauded these automatons, which set food and poured wine before the guests of the Brahmans, if they were the contrivances of wizards. And in another passage,[1151] where he defends the signs and wonders wrought by the Brahmans against the aspersions cast upon them by the Gymnosophists of Ethiopia, Apollonius explains their practice of levitation[Pg 251] as an act of worship and communion with the sun god, and hence far removed from the rites performed in deep trenches and hollows of the earth to the gods of the lower world which we have heard him mention before as a practice characteristic of wizards.

We have heard Philostratus mention the Brahmans of India alongside the Magi of Persia and suggest that Apollonius's association with them added to his reputation as a magician.[1149] In another part[1150] Philostratus contrasts goëtes and Brahmans unfavorably, and right after condemning the wizards and defending Apollonius against the accusation of sorcery, he notes that when he saw the automatic tripods and cup-bearers of the Indians, he didn’t question how they worked. “He applauded them, it is true, but did not think it appropriate to imitate them.” However, Apollonius shouldn’t have even applauded these automatons, which served food and poured wine for the Brahmans' guests, if they were the creations of wizards. And in another part,[1151] where he defends the signs and wonders done by the Brahmans against the criticisms from the Gymnosophists of Ethiopia, Apollonius describes their practice of levitation[Pg 251] as a form of worship and connection with the sun god, and therefore very different from the rituals performed in deep trenches and holes in the earth for the gods of the underworld, which he has previously indicated are typical of wizards.

Marvels of the Brahmans.

Nevertheless the feats ascribed to the Brahmans are certainly sufficiently akin to magic to excuse Philostratus for mentioning them along with the Magi and wizards and to justify us in considering them. Indeed, modern scholarship informs us that in the Vedic texts the word “bráhman” in the neuter means a “charm, rite, formulary, prayer,” and “that the caste of the Brahmans is nothing but the men who have bráhman or magic power.”[1152] In marked contrast to the taciturnity of Apollonius as to his interviews with the Magi of Babylon and Susa is the long account repeated by Philostratus from Damis of the sayings and doings of the sages of India. As for Apollonius himself, “he was always recounting to everyone what the Indians said and did.”[1153] They knew that he was approaching when he was yet afar off and sent a messenger who greeted him by name.[1154] Iarchas, their chief, also knew that Apollonius had a letter for him and that a delta was missing in it, and he told Apollonius many events of his past life. “We see, O Apollonius,” he said, “the signs of the soul, tracing them by a myriad symbols.”[1155] The Brahmans lived in a castle concealed by clouds, where they rendered themselves invisible at will. The rocks along the path up to their abode were still marked by the cloven feet, beards, faces, and backs of the Pans who had tried to scale the height under the leadership of Dionysus and Heracles, but had been hurled down headlong.[1156] Here too was a well for testing oaths, a purify[Pg 252]ing fire, and the jars in which the winds and rain were bottled up.

Nevertheless, the feats attributed to the Brahmans are definitely similar enough to magic to justify Philostratus mentioning them alongside the Magi and wizards and to support our interest in them. In fact, modern scholarship tells us that in the Vedic texts, the word “bráhman” in its neuter form means a “charm, rite, formulary, prayer,” and “that the caste of the Brahmans consists simply of those who possess bráhman or magical power.”[1152] In stark contrast to Apollonius's silence about his meetings with the Magi of Babylon and Susa is the extensive account recounted by Philostratus from Damis about the sayings and actions of the Indian sages. As for Apollonius himself, “he was always sharing what the Indians said and did.”[1153] They knew he was coming even when he was far away and sent a messenger to greet him by name.[1154] Iarchas, their leader, also knew that Apollonius had a letter for him and that a delta was missing from it, and he shared many details about his past life with Apollonius. “We see, O Apollonius,” he said, “the signs of the soul, tracing them through a multitude of symbols.”[1155] The Brahmans lived in a castle hidden by clouds, where they could make themselves invisible at will. The rocks along the path leading to their dwelling were still marked by the cloven feet, beards, faces, and backs of the Satyrs who had tried to climb the height under the guidance of Dionysus and Heracles but were thrown down in defeat.[1156] Here too was a well for testing oaths, a purifying fire, and the jars in which the winds and rain were contained.

Magical methods of the Brahmans.

When the messenger of the Brahmans greeted Apollonius by name, the latter remarked to the astounded Damis, “We have come to men who are wise without art (ἀτεχνῶς), for they seem to have the gift of foreknowledge.”[1157] As a matter of fact, however, most of the subsequent wonders wrought by the Brahmans were not performed without the use of paraphernalia and rites very similar to those of magic. Each Brahman carries a staff—or magic wand—and wears a ring, which are both prized for their occult virtue by which the Brahmans can accomplish anything they wish.[1158] They clothe themselves in sacred garments made of “a wool that springs wild from the ground” (cotton?) and which the earth will not permit anyone else to pluck. Iarchas also showed Apollonius and Damis a marvelous stone called Pantarbe, which attracted and bound other stones to itself and which, although only the size of his finger-nail and formed in earth four fathoms deep, had such virtue that it broke the earth open.[1159] But it required great skill to secure this gem. “We only,” said the Brahman, “can obtain this pantarbe, partly by doing things and partly by saying things,” in other words by incantations and magical operations. Before performing their rite of levitation they bathed and anointed themselves with a certain drug. “Then they stood like a chorus with Iarchas as leader and with their rods uplifted struck the earth, which heaving like the sea-wave raised them up in the air two cubits high.”[1160] The metallic tripods and cup-bearers which served the king of the country when he came to visit the Brahmans appeared from nowhere laden with food and wine exactly as if by magic.[1161]

When the messenger of the Brahmans greeted Apollonius by name, he remarked to the amazed Damis, “We've arrived among people who are wise without study, as they seem to have the gift of foresight.”[1157] In reality, though, most of the incredible feats performed by the Brahmans involved tools and rituals that were quite similar to magic. Each Brahman carries a staff—or a magic wand—and wears a ring, which are both valued for their hidden powers that allow the Brahmans to achieve anything they desire.[1158] They dress in sacred clothing made from “a wool that grows wild from the earth” (cotton?) which the earth doesn’t allow anyone else to pick. Iarchas also showed Apollonius and Damis a remarkable stone called Pantarbe, which attracted and bound other stones to it, and although it was only the size of a fingernail and formed deep in the earth, it had such power that it broke the ground open.[1159] However, it took a lot of skill to obtain this gem. “Only we,” said the Brahman, “can get this pantarbe, partly through our actions and partly through our words,” meaning through incantations and magical practices. Before they performed their levitation ritual, they bathed and anointed themselves with a special drug. “Then they stood together like a chorus, with Iarchas leading them, and with their wands raised, they struck the ground, which shook like a wave and lifted them up in the air two cubits high.”[1160] The metal tripods and cup-bearers that served the king when he visited the Brahmans appeared out of nowhere, filled with food and wine as if by magic.[1161]

Medicine of the Brahmans.

The medical practice, if we may so call it, of the Brahmans was tinged, to say the least, with magic. A dislocated hip, indeed, they appear to have cured by massage, and a[Pg 253] blind man and a paralytic are healed by unspecified methods.[1162] But a boy is cured of inherited alcoholism by chewing owl’s eggs that have been boiled; a woman who complains that her sixteen-year-old son has for two years been vexed by a demon is sent away with a letter full of threats or incantations to employ against the spirit; and another woman’s sufferings in childbirth are prevented by directing her husband to enter her chamber with a live hare concealed in his bosom and to release the hare after he has walked around his wife once. Iarchas, indeed, attributed the origin of medicine to divination or divine revelation.[1163] His theory was that Asclepius, as the son of Apollo, learned by oracles what drugs to employ for the different diseases, in what amounts to mix the drugs, what the antidotes for poisons were, and how to use even poisons as remedies. This last especially he affirmed that no one would dare attempt without foreknowledge.

The medical practice of the Brahmans was, to put it mildly, intertwined with magic. They seemed to treat a dislocated hip through massage, and a blind person and a paralytic were healed using methods that remain undisclosed. A boy was cured of inherited alcoholism by chewing boiled owl’s eggs; a woman whose sixteen-year-old son had been troubled by a demon for two years was sent away with a letter filled with threats or incantations to use against the spirit; and another woman was relieved from suffering during childbirth by instructing her husband to enter her room with a live hare hidden in his clothing and to release the hare after walking around her once. Iarchas claimed that the origins of medicine were rooted in divination or divine revelation. He believed that Asclepius, as the son of Apollo, received insights through oracles about which drugs to use for various diseases, how to mix them in the right amounts, what the antidotes for poisons were, and how to even utilize poisons as treatments. He particularly emphasized that no one would dare try the last without prior knowledge.

Some signs of astrology.

The Brahmans seem to have made some use of astrology in working their feats of magic. Damis at any rate said that when Apollonius bade farewell to the sages, Iarchas made him a present of seven rings named after the planets, which he wore in turn upon the appropriate days of the week.[1164] Perhaps, too, the seven swords of adamant which Iarchas had rediscovered as a child had some connection with the planets.[1165] Moeragenes ascribed four books on foretelling the future by the stars to Apollonius himself, but Philostratus was unable to find any such work by Apollonius extant in his day.[1166] And unless it be an allusion to Chaldeans which we have already noted, there is no further mention of astrology in Philostratus’s Life—a rather remarkable fact considering that he wrote for the court of Septimius Severus, the builder of the Septizonium.

The Brahmans seemed to have used astrology in their magical practices. Damis mentioned that when Apollonius said goodbye to the sages, Iarchas gave him seven rings named after the planets, which he wore in rotation on the corresponding days of the week.[1164] It’s also possible that the seven adamant swords that Iarchas found as a child were linked to the planets.[1165] Moeragenes credited Apollonius with four books about predicting the future using the stars, but Philostratus couldn't find any surviving works by Apollonius during his time.[1166] Unless it’s a reference to the Chaldeans we've already mentioned, there are no further mentions of astrology in Philostratus’s Life—which is quite remarkable considering he wrote for the court of Septimius Severus, the builder of the Septizonium.

Interest in natural science.

The philosopher Euphrates, who is represented by Philostratus as jealous of Apollonius, once advised the emperor Vespasian, when Apollonius was present, to embrace natural[Pg 254] philosophy—or a philosophy in accordance with natural law—but to beware of philosophers who pretended to have secret intercourse with the gods.[1167] There was justification in the latter charge against Apollonius, but it should not be assumed that his mysticism rendered him unfavorable to natural science. On the contrary he is frequently represented by Philostratus as whiling away the time along the road by discussing with Damis such natural problems as the delta of the Nile or the tides at the mouth of the Guadalquivir. He was especially interested in the habits of animals and the properties of gems. Vespasian was fond of listening to “his graphic stories of the rivers of India and the animals” of that country, as well as to “his statements of what the gods revealed concerning the empire.”[1168] Some of the questions which Apollonius put to the Brahmans concerned nature.[1169] He asked of what the world was composed, and when they said, “Of elements,” he asked if there were four. They believed, however, in a fifth element, ether, from which the gods had been generated and which they breathe as men breathe air. They also regarded the universe as a living animal. He further inquired of them whether land or sea predominated on the earth’s surface,[1170] and this same attitude of scientific inquiry and of curiosity about natural forces and objects is frequently met in the Life.

The philosopher Euphrates, portrayed by Philostratus as envious of Apollonius, once advised Emperor Vespasian, in Apollonius's presence, to adopt natural philosophy—or a philosophy aligned with natural law—but to be cautious of philosophers who claimed to have secret connections with the gods.[Pg 254] While there was some basis for the latter accusation against Apollonius, it's important not to assume that his mysticism made him opposed to natural science. On the contrary, Philostratus often depicts him passing the time on the road by discussing natural issues with Damis, such as the delta of the Nile or the tides at the mouth of the Guadalquivir. He was especially fascinated by the behaviors of animals and the qualities of gemstones. Vespasian enjoyed listening to “his vivid tales of the rivers of India and the wildlife” of that region, as well as to “his accounts of what the gods revealed about the empire.”<[1168]> Some of the questions Apollonius posed to the Brahmans dealt with nature.<[1169]> He asked what the world was made of, and when they replied, “Of elements,” he inquired if there were four. They believed, however, in a fifth element, ether, from which the gods were created and which they breathe like humans inhale air. They also viewed the universe as a living being. He further asked whether land or sea was more dominant on the earth's surface,<[1170]> and this same mindset of scientific inquiry and curiosity about natural forces and objects appears frequently in the Life.

Natural law or special providence?

Apollonius believed, as we shall see, in omens and portents, and interpreted an earthquake at Antioch as a divine warning to the inhabitants.[1171] The Brahman sages, moreover, regarded prolonged drought as a punishment visited by the world soul upon human sinfulness.[1172] On the other hand, Apollonius gave a natural explanation of volcanoes and denied the myths concerning Enceladus being imprisoned under Mount Aetna and the battle of the gods and giants.[1173] And in the case of the earthquake the people had already accepted it as a portent and were praying in terror, when[Pg 255] Apollonius took the opportunity to warn them to cease from their civil factions. As a matter of fact, both Apollonius and Philostratus appear to regard portents as an extraordinary sort of natural phenomena. A knowledge of natural science helps in recognizing them and in interpreting them. When a lioness of enormous size with eight whelps in her is slain by hunters, Apollonius at once recognizes the event as portentous because as a rule lionesses have whelps only thrice and only three of them on the first occasion, two in the second litter, and finally but a single whelp, “but I believe a very big one and preternaturally fierce.”[1174] Here Apollonius is not in strict agreement with Pliny and Aristotle[1175] who say that the lioness produces five whelps at the first birth and one less every succeeding year.

Apollonius believed, as we will see, in omens and signs, interpreting an earthquake in Antioch as a divine warning to the people. [1171] The Brahman sages, on the other hand, viewed a prolonged drought as a punishment from the world soul for human wrongdoing. [1172] However, Apollonius offered a natural explanation for volcanoes and rejected the myths about Enceladus being trapped under Mount Aetna and the battles between gods and giants. [1173] When the earthquake occurred, the people had already taken it as a sign and were praying in fear, when[Pg 255] Apollonius seized the moment to urge them to stop their political fighting. In fact, both Apollonius and Philostratus seem to view portents as a special kind of natural phenomenon. Understanding natural science helps in recognizing and interpreting them. When a massive lioness with eight cubs is killed by hunters, Apollonius immediately sees the event as significant because, typically, lionesses have cubs only three times: three cubs the first time, two the second time, and then just one, “but I believe it’s a very large one and unusually fierce.” [1174] Here, Apollonius does not completely agree with Pliny and Aristotle [1175] who claim that a lioness has five cubs at her first birth and one fewer each subsequent year.

Cases of scepticism

The scepticism of Apollonius concerning the Aetna myth is not an isolated instance. At Sardis he ridiculed the notion that trees could be older than earth,[1176] and he was one of the few ancients to question the swan’s song.[1177] He denied “the silly story that the young of vipers are brought into the world without mothers” as “consistent neither with nature nor experience,”[1178] and also the tale that the whelps of the lioness claw their way out into the world.[1179] In India Apollonius saw a wild ass or unicorn from whose single horn a magic drinking horn was made.[1180] A draught from this horn was supposed to protect one for that day from disease, wounds, fire, or poison, and on that account the king[Pg 256] alone was permitted to hunt the animal and to drink from the horn. When Damis asked Apollonius if he credited this story, the sage ironically replied that he would believe it if he found the king of the country to be immortal. Either, however, the scepticism of Apollonius, as was the case with so many other ancients and medieval men, was sporadic and inconsistent, or it came to be overlaid with the credulity of Damis and Philostratus, as the following example suggests. Iarchas told Damis and Apollonius flatly that the races described by Scylax of men with long heads or huge feet with which they were said to shade themselves did not exist in India or anywhere else; yet in a later book Philostratus states that the shadow-footed people are a tribe in Ethiopia.[1181]

The skepticism of Apollonius about the Aetna myth isn’t a unique case. In Sardis, he mocked the idea that trees could be older than the earth,[1176] and he was one of the few ancient thinkers to question the swan's song.[1177] He dismissed “the ridiculous story that baby vipers are born without mothers” as “not aligning with nature or experience,”[1178] and also the tale that lion cubs claw their way into the world.[1179] In India, Apollonius encountered a wild ass or unicorn, from whose single horn a magical drinking cup was made.[1180] Drinking from this horn was believed to protect a person from illness, injury, fire, or poison for the day, which is why only the king[Pg 256] was allowed to hunt the creature and drink from the horn. When Damis asked Apollonius if he believed this story, the sage sarcastically responded that he would accept it if he found the king of the land to be immortal. However, either Apollonius's skepticism, like that of many other ancient and medieval thinkers, was sporadic and inconsistent, or it was influenced by the gullibility of Damis and Philostratus, as the next example shows. Iarchas told Damis and Apollonius outright that the races described by Scylax, with long heads or enormous feet that they supposedly used to shade themselves, didn’t exist in India or anywhere else; yet in a later book, Philostratus claims that the shadow-footed people are a tribe in Ethiopia.[1181]

Anecdotes of animals.

At any rate the marvels of India are more frequently credited than criticized in the Life by Philostratus, and the same holds true of the extraordinary conduct and well-nigh human intelligence attributed to animals. Especially delightful reading are six chapters on the remarkable sagacity of elephants and their love for mankind.[1182] On this point, as by Pliny, use is made of the work of Juba. We read again of sick lions eating apes, of the lioness’s love affair with the panther, of the fondness of leopards for the fragrant gum of a certain tree and of goats for the cinnamon tree; of apes who are made to collect pepper for men by appealing to their instinct towards mimicry;[1183] and of the tiger, whose loins alone are eaten by the Indians. “For they decline to eat the other parts of this animal, because they say that as soon as it is born it lifts up its front paws to the rising sun.”[1184] In the river Hyphasis is a creature like a white worm which yields when melted down a fat or oil that once set afire cannot be extinguished and which the king uses to burn walls[Pg 257] and capture cities.[1185] In India are griffins who quarry gold with their powerful beaks, and the luminous phoenix with its nest of spices and swan-like funeral song.[1186]

At any rate, the wonders of India receive more praise than criticism in the Life by Philostratus, and the same goes for the remarkable behavior and near-human intelligence attributed to animals. The six chapters on the incredible intelligence of elephants and their affection for humans are especially enjoyable to read.[1182] Here, as well as in Pliny, Juba’s work is referenced. We encounter stories of sick lions eating apes, a lioness having a romance with a panther, leopards showing a preference for the fragrant resin of a certain tree, and goats being fond of the cinnamon tree; we also learn about monkeys being trained to gather pepper for people by appealing to their instinct for mimicry;[1183] and about the tiger, whose loins are the only part consumed by the Indians. “They refuse to eat other parts of this animal because they say that as soon as it is born, it raises its front paws to the rising sun.”[1184] In the river Hyphasis, there is a creature resembling a white worm that produces a fat or oil which, once ignited, cannot be put out and which the king uses to burn walls[Pg 257] and capture cities.[1185] In India, there are griffins that mine gold with their strong beaks, and the glowing phoenix with its nest of spices and swan-like funeral song.[1186]

Dragons of India.

Especially remarkable are the snakes or dragons with which all India is filled and which often are of enormous size, thirty or even seventy cubits long.[1187] Those found in the marshes are sluggish and have no crests; but those on the hills and ridges move faster than the swiftest rivers and have both beards and crests.[1188] Those in the plain engage in combats with elephants which terminate fatally for both parties as we have already learned from Pliny.[1189] The mountain dragons have bushy beards, fiery crests, golden scales, and a ferocious glance.[1190] They burrow into the earth, making a noise like clashing brass, or go hissing down to the shore and swim far out to sea. Terrifying as they are, the Indians charm them by showing them golden characters embroidered on a cloak of scarlet and by incantations of a secret wisdom. They eat the dragon’s heart and liver in order to be able to understand the language and thoughts of animals.[1191]

Especially striking are the snakes or dragons that fill all of India, often reaching enormous sizes, thirty or even seventy cubits long.[1187] Those found in marshes are slow and lack crests; however, those found in the hills and ridges move faster than the swiftest rivers and have both beards and crests.[1188] The ones in the plains fight with elephants, and these battles end fatally for both sides, as we've learned from Pliny.[1189] The mountain dragons have bushy beards, fiery crests, golden scales, and a fierce gaze.[1190] They burrow into the ground, making a noise like clashing brass, or hiss their way down to the shore to swim far out to sea. Despite their terrifying nature, the Indians tame them by displaying golden characters embroidered on a scarlet cloak and through incantations of hidden wisdom. They consume the dragon’s heart and liver to gain the ability to understand the language and thoughts of animals.[1191]

Occult virtues of gems.

The dragons, however, are prized more for the precious stones in their heads, which the Indians quickly cut off as soon as they have bewitched them. The pupils of the eyes of the hill dragons are a fiery stone possessing irresistible virtue for many occult purposes,[1192] while in the heads of the mountain dragons are many brilliant stones of flashing colors which exert occult virtue if set in a ring, “and they say that Gyges had such a ring.”[1193] But there are many marvelous stones outside the heads of dragons. “Who does not know the habits of birds,” says Apollonius to Damis in one of his disquisitions upon natural phenomena,[1194] “and that eagles and storks will not build their nests without placing in them, the one the stone aetites, and the other the lychnites,[Pg 258] as aids in hatching and to drive snakes away?” On parting from the Indian king Phraotes, Apollonius as usual refused to accept money presents but picked up one of the gems that were offered him with the exclamation, “O rare stone, how opportunely and providentially have I found you!”[1195] Philostratus supposes that he detected some occult and divine power in this particular stone. The Brahmans had gems so huge that from one of them a goblet could be carved large enough to slake the thirst of four men in midsummer, but in this case nothing is said of occult virtue.[1196] The Brahman Iarchas felt sure that he was the reincarnation of the hero Ganges, son of the river Ganges, because as a mere child he knew where to dig for the seven swords of adamant which Ganges had fixed in the earth.[1197] Presumably these were magic swords and their virtue in part due to the stone adamant of which they were made. Less is said in the Life of the virtues of herbs than of gems, but the Indians made a nuptial ointment or love-charm from balm distilled from trees,[1198] and drugs and poisons are mentioned more than once, mandragora being described as a soporific drug rather than a deadly poison.[1199]

The dragons, however, are valued more for the precious stones in their heads, which the Indians quickly remove as soon as they have mesmerized them. The pupils of the eyes of the hill dragons are a fiery stone with irresistible properties for many mystical uses, [1192] while the heads of the mountain dragons contain many brilliant stones of flashing colors that have mystical properties if set in a ring, “and they say that Gyges had such a ring.” [1193] But there are many amazing stones beyond the heads of dragons. “Who doesn't know the habits of birds?” Apollonius asks Damis in one of his discussions on natural phenomena, [1194] “and that eagles and storks won’t build their nests without placing, respectively, the stone aetites and the lychnites, as aids in hatching and to drive snakes away?” When parting from the Indian king Phraotes, Apollonius, as usual, refused to accept cash gifts but picked up one of the gems offered to him, exclaiming, “O rare stone, how fortuitously and providentially have I found you!” [1195] Philostratus believes he sensed some mystical and divine power in this particular stone. The Brahmans had gems so large that from one of them, a goblet could be carved big enough to quench the thirst of four men in midsummer, but in this case, nothing is mentioned about mystical properties. [1196] The Brahman Iarchas was convinced he was the reincarnation of the hero Ganges, son of the river Ganges, because even as a child he knew where to find the seven adamant swords that Ganges had embedded in the earth. [1197] Presumably, these were magical swords, and their properties were partially due to the adamant stone from which they were made. Less is discussed in the Life about the virtues of herbs than of gems, but the Indians made a wedding ointment or love-charm from balm distilled from trees, [1198] and drugs and poisons are mentioned more than once, with mandragora described as a sedative rather than a lethal poison. [1199]

Absence of number mysticism.

Considering that Apollonius was a Pythagorean, there is surprisingly little said concerning perfect numbers and their mystic significance. Aside from the seven rings and seven swords already mentioned, about the only instance is the question asked by Apollonius whether eighteen, the number of the Brahman sages at the time of his visit, had any especial importance.[1200] He remarked that eighteen was not a square, nor a number usually held in esteem and honor like ten, twelve, and sixteen. The Brahmans agreed that there was no particular significance in eighteen, and further informed him that they maintained no fixed number of members but had varied from only one to as many as seventy according to the available supply of worthy men.

Considering that Apollonius was a Pythagorean, there is surprisingly little said about perfect numbers and their mystical significance. Aside from the seven rings and seven swords already mentioned, the only other instance is the question Apollonius asked about whether eighteen, the number of the Brahman sages at the time of his visit, held any special importance.[1200] He noted that eighteen was neither a square nor a number typically regarded with esteem like ten, twelve, and sixteen. The Brahmans agreed that eighteen had no particular significance and further informed him that they did not have a fixed number of members but varied from one to as many as seventy depending on the availability of worthy individuals.

[Pg 259]

[Pg 259]

Mantike or the art of divination.

If Philostratus denies that Apollonius was a magician, he does depict him as endowed with prophetic gifts, with power over demons, and with “secret wisdom.” He rather likes to give the impression that the sage foretold things by innate prophetic gift or divine inspiration, but even μαντική or the art of divination is not condemned as γοητεία
or witchcraft was. Iarchas the Brahman says that those who delight in mantike become divine thereby and contribute to the safety of mankind.[1201] Apollonius himself, when condemning wizards as pseudo-wise, made the reservation that mantike, if true in its predictions, was not a pseudo-science, although he professed ignorance whether it could be called an art or not.[1202] He denied that he practiced it, when he was examined by Tigellinus, the favorite of Nero, who was persecuting philosophers on the ground that they were addicted to mantike.[1203] His accusers before Domitian again adduced his alleged practice of divination as evidence that he was a wizard.[1204]

If Philostratus denies that Apollonius was a magician, he does show him as having prophetic abilities, control over demons, and “secret wisdom.” He tends to suggest that the sage predicted things through an innate gift of prophecy or divine inspiration, but even Mantic or the art of divination is not condemned as goetia.
or witchcraft was. Iarchas the Brahman says that those who enjoy mantike become divine and help ensure the safety of humanity.[1201] Apollonius himself, when criticizing wizards as pseudo-wise, noted that mantike, if accurate in its predictions, wasn’t a pseudo-science, even though he claimed he didn’t know if it could be considered an art or not.[1202] He denied practicing it when he was questioned by Tigellinus, Nero’s favorite, who was targeting philosophers for their supposed interest in mantike.[1203] His accusers in front of Domitian again brought up his alleged practice of divination as proof that he was a wizard.[1204]

Divining power of Apollonius.

If Apollonius practiced neither wizardry nor mantike, the question arises how he was able to foretell the future. In his trial before Domitian he did not attempt to deny that he had predicted the plague at Ephesus, but attributed his “sense of the coming disaster” to his abstemious diet, which kept his senses clear and enabled him to see as in an unclouded mirror “all that is happening or about to occur.”[1205] For he was credited with knowledge of distant events the moment they occurred as well as with foreknowledge of the future. Thus at Ephesus he was aware of the assassination of Domitian at Rome; and at Tarsus, although he arrived after the incident had occurred, he was able to describe and to find the mad dog by whom a boy had been bitten.[1206] Iarchas told Apollonius that health and purity were requisite for[Pg 260] divination;[1207] and Apollonius in turn, in recounting his life story to the naked sages of Egypt, represented the Pythagorean philosophy as appearing before him and promising, “And when you are pure, I will grant you the faculty of foreknowledge.”[1208]

If Apollonius didn’t practice magic or mantike, it raises the question of how he managed to predict the future. During his trial before Domitian, he didn’t deny that he had foretold the plague at Ephesus; instead, he explained his “awareness of the impending disaster” was due to his simple diet, which kept his senses sharp and allowed him to see as if in a clear mirror “everything that is happening or about to happen.”[1205] He was known to have knowledge of distant events the moment they happened as well as foresight of the future. For instance, in Ephesus, he was aware of Domitian's assassination in Rome; and in Tarsus, even though he arrived after the incident, he could describe it and locate the rabid dog that had bitten a boy.[1206] Iarchas told Apollonius that health and purity were essential for[Pg 260] divination;[1207] and Apollonius, while sharing his life story with the naked sages of Egypt, portrayed the Pythagorean philosophy as appearing before him and promising, “And when you are pure, I will give you the gift of foresight.”[1208]

Dreams.

Apollonius often was warned by dreams. When he dreamt of fish who were cast gasping upon dry land and who appealed for succour to a dolphin swimming by, he knew that he ought to visit and restore the graves and assist the descendants of the Eretrians whom Darius had taken captive to the Persian kingdom over five centuries before.[1209] Another dream he interpreted as a command to visit Crete.[1210] In defending his linen apparel before Domitian he declared, “It is a pure substance under which to sleep at night, for to those who live as I do dreams bring the truest of their revelations.”[1211] He was not the only dreamer of the time, however, and when some of his followers were afraid to accompany him to Rome in Nero’s reign, they made warning dreams their excuse for deserting him.[1212]

Apollonius often received warnings through his dreams. When he dreamed of fish gasping on dry land who called out for help to a dolphin swimming by, he understood that he needed to visit and restore the graves and help the descendants of the Eretrians whom Darius had captured and taken to the Persian kingdom over five centuries earlier.[1209] In another dream, he interpreted it as a sign to visit Crete.[1210] While defending his linen clothing before Domitian, he stated, "It is a pure material to sleep in at night, because for those who live like I do, dreams reveal the most truthful insights."[1211] He wasn’t the only one having dreams during that time, though, and when some of his followers hesitated to join him in Rome during Nero's reign, they used warning dreams as an excuse to abandon him.[1212]

Interpretation of omens.

It has been seen that Apollonius not only had prophetic dreams but was skilful in interpreting them. He was equally adept in explaining the meaning of omens. The dead lion with her eight unborn whelps he took as a sign that Damis and he would remain a year and eight months in that land.[1213] When Damis objected that Homer interpreted the sparrow and her eight nestlings whom the snake devoured as nine years’ duration of the Trojan war, Apollonius retorted that the birds had been hatched but that the whelps, being yet unborn, could not signify complete years. On another occasion he interpreted the birth of a three-headed child as a sign of the year of the three emperors.[1214]

It has been observed that Apollonius not only had prophetic dreams but was also skilled at interpreting them. He was just as talented in explaining the significance of omens. He believed that the dead lion with her eight unborn cubs signified that Damis and he would stay in that land for a year and eight months.[1213] When Damis pointed out that Homer interpreted the sparrow and her eight nestlings, which the snake ate, as representing nine years of the Trojan War, Apollonius countered that the birds had hatched while the cubs, being unborn, couldn't represent complete years. On another occasion, he interpreted the birth of a three-headed child as a sign of the year of the three emperors.[1214]

[Pg 261]

[Pg 261]

Animals and divination.

Such interpretation of dreams and omens suggests an art or arts of divination rather than foreknowledge by direct divine inspiration. So does the passage in which Apollonius informs Domitian, when accused before him of having divined the future by sacrificing a boy, that human entrails are inferior to those of animals for purposes of divination, since the beasts are less perturbed by knowledge of their approaching death.[1215] Apollonius himself would not sacrifice even animal victims, but he enlarged his powers of divination during his sojourn among the Arab tribes by learning to understand the language of animals and to listen to the birds as these predict the future.[1216] The Arabs acquire this power by eating, some say the heart, others the liver, of dragons,—a fact which gave the church historian Eusebius an opportunity to charge Apollonius with having broken his taboo of animal flesh.

Such interpretation of dreams and omens suggests a skill or skills in divination rather than knowing the future through direct divine inspiration. This is also evident in the part where Apollonius tells Domitian, when accused of predicting the future by sacrificing a boy, that human organs are less reliable for divination than those of animals, as animals are less disturbed by the knowledge of their impending death. [1215] Apollonius himself wouldn't sacrifice even animal victims, but he enhanced his divination abilities during his time with the Arab tribes by learning to understand the language of animals and listening to birds as they predict the future. [1216] The Arabs gain this ability by consuming, some say the heart, others the liver, of dragons—an idea that allowed the church historian Eusebius to accuse Apollonius of violating his taboo against eating animal flesh.

Divination by fire.

Although he did not sacrifice animals and divine from their entrails, Apollonius appears to have employed practices akin to those of the art of pyromancy when he threw a handful of frankincense into the sacrificial fire with a prayer to the sun, “and watched to see how the smoke of it curled upwards, and how it grew turbid, and in how many points it shot up; and in a manner he caught the meaning of the fire, and observed how it appeared of good omen and pure.”[1217] Again he visited an Egyptian temple and sacrificed an image of a bull made of frankincense and told the priest that if he really understood the science of divination by fire (ἐμπύρου σοφίας), he would see many things revealed in the circle of the rising sun.[1218]

Although he didn't sacrifice animals or interpret their entrails, Apollonius seemed to use methods similar to pyromancy when he tossed a handful of frankincense into the sacrificial fire with a prayer to the sun, “and observed how the smoke curled upwards, how it became cloudy, and in how many directions it shot up; in this way, he grasped the meaning of the fire and noted how it appeared as a good sign and pure.”[1217] Later, he went to an Egyptian temple and sacrificed a bull statue made of frankincense, telling the priest that if he truly understood the science of fire divination (ἐμπύρου σοφίας), he would see many things revealed in the circle of the rising sun.[1218]

Other so-called predictions.

It should be added that only a very ardent admirer of Apollonius or an equally ardent seeker after prophecies would see anything prophetic in some of the apparently chance remarks of the sage which have been perverted into predictions. At Ephesus he did not actually predict the plague, which had already begun to spread judging from the[Pg 262] account of Philostratus, but rather warned the heedless population to take measures to prevent its becoming general.[1219] When visiting the isthmus of Corinth he began to say that it would be cut through, an idea which had doubtless occurred again and again to many; but then said that it would not be cut through.[1220] This sane, if somewhat vacillating, state of mind received confirmation soon afterwards when Nero attempted an Isthmian canal but left it uncompleted. Another similarly ambiguous utterance was elicited from Apollonius by an eclipse of the sun accompanied by thunder: “There shall be some great event and there shall not be.”[1221] This was believed to receive miraculous fulfillment three days later when a thunderbolt dashed the cup out of which Nero was drinking from his hands but left him unharmed. Once Apollonius saved his life by changing from a ship which sank soon afterwards to another vessel.[1222] An instance of more specific prophecy is the case of the consul Aelian, who testified that when he was but a tribune under Vespasian, Apollonius took him aside and told him his name and country and parentage, “and you foretold to me that I should hold this high office which is accounted by the multitude the highest of all.”[1223] But Aelian may have exaggerated the accuracy of Apollonius’s prediction, or the latter may have made a shrewd guess that Aelian was likely to rise to high office.

It should be noted that only a really passionate admirer of Apollonius or an equally enthusiastic seeker of prophecies would find anything prophetic in some of the seemingly random comments made by the sage, which have been twisted into predictions. In Ephesus, he didn’t actually predict the plague, which had already begun to spread according to Philostratus’s account, but rather warned the careless population to take steps to prevent it from spreading widely.[Pg 262] When he was visiting the isthmus of Corinth, he started to say that it would be cut through, an idea that had likely occurred to many people before; but then he added that it wouldn’t be cut through. This sensible, if somewhat indecisive, mindset was confirmed soon after when Nero tried to dig an Isthmian canal but left it unfinished. Another similarly ambiguous statement from Apollonius was prompted by a solar eclipse accompanied by thunder: “There shall be some great event and there shall not be.” This was thought to have a miraculous fulfillment three days later when a thunderbolt knocked the cup out of Nero's hands while he was drinking, but left him unharmed. Once, Apollonius saved his life by switching from a ship that sank shortly after to another vessel. An example of a more specific prophecy comes from consul Aelian, who testified that when he was just a tribune under Vespasian, Apollonius took him aside and told him his name, country, and parentage, “and you foretold to me that I should hold this high office which is regarded by the public as the highest of all.” However, Aelian may have exaggerated how accurately Apollonius predicted this outcome, or Apollonius could have made a clever guess that Aelian was likely to achieve a high position.

Apollonius and the demons.

The divining faculty of Apollonius enabled him to detect the presence and influence of demons, phantoms, and goblins, whose ways he understood as well as the language of the birds. At Ephesus he detected the true cause of the plague in a ragged old beggar whom he ordered the people to stone to death.[1224] At this command the blinking eyes of the aged mendicant suddenly shot forth malevolent and fiery gleams and revealed his demon character. Afterwards, when the people removed the stones, they found underneath, pounded to a pulp, an enormous hound still vomiting foam[Pg 263] as mad dogs do. Later, when accused of magic before Domitian, Apollonius requested that the emperor question him in private about the causes of this pestilence at Ephesus, which he said were too deep to be discussed publicly.[1225] And earlier in the reign of Nero, when asked by Tigellinus how he got the better of demons and phantasms, he evaded the question by a saucy retort.[1226] On one occasion, however, we are told that he got rid of a ghostly apparition by heaping abuse upon it;[1227] and a satyr, who remained invisible but created annoyance by running amuck through the camp, he disposed of by the expedient of filling a trough with wine and letting the spirit get drunk on it. When the wine had all disappeared, Apollonius led his companions to the cave of the nymphs where the satyr was now visible in a drunken sleep.[1228] He also reformed the character of a licentious youth by expelling a demon from him,[1229] and at Corinth exposed a lamia who, under the disguise of a dainty and wealthy lady, was fattening up a beautiful youth named Menippus with the intention of eventually devouring his blood.[1230] On his return by sea from India Apollonius passed a sacred island where lived a sea nymph or female demon who was as destructive to mariners as Scylla or the Sirens were of old.

The divining ability of Apollonius allowed him to sense the presence and influence of demons, phantoms, and goblins, whose behaviors he understood just as well as he understood the language of birds. In Ephesus, he identified the real cause of the plague in a ragged old beggar, whom he commanded the people to stone to death.[1224] At his command, the old beggar's blinking eyes suddenly flashed with malevolent and fiery glints, revealing his demonic nature. Later, when the people removed the stones, they found beneath them an enormous hound, completely crushed, still foaming at the mouth like rabid dogs do.[Pg 263] Later, when accused of witchcraft before Domitian, Apollonius asked the emperor to question him privately about the reasons for the plague in Ephesus, claiming they were too complex to discuss in public.[1225] Earlier in Nero's reign, when Tigellinus asked him how he overcame demons and phantasms, he dodged the question with a cheeky comeback.[1226] However, on one occasion, it’s said that he got rid of a ghostly apparition by hurling insults at it;[1227] and a satyr, who remained unseen but caused trouble by rampaging through the camp, he dealt with by filling a trough with wine and letting the spirit get drunk. Once the wine was all gone, Apollonius brought his companions to the nymphs' cave, where the satyr was now visible, fast asleep from drunkenness.[1228] He also changed the character of a wild youth by driving a demon out of him,[1229] and in Corinth, he exposed a lamia who, disguised as a delicate and wealthy lady, was fattening up a beautiful youth named Menippus with the intention of eventually drinking his blood.[1230] On his return by sea from India, Apollonius passed a sacred island inhabited by a sea nymph or female demon who was as deadly to sailors as Scylla or the Sirens were in ancient times.

Not all demons are evil

But the word “demon” is not always employed by Philostratus in the sense of an evil spirit. The annunciation of the birth of Apollonius was made to his mother by Proteus in the form of an Egyptian demon.[1231] Damis looked upon Apollonius himself as a demon and worshiped him as such, when he heard him say that he comprehended not only all human languages but also those things concerning which men maintain silence.[1232] In a letter to Euphrates[1233] Apollonius affirms that the all-wise Pythagoras should be classed among demons. But when Domitian, on first meeting Apollonius[Pg 264] said that he looked like a demon, the sage replied that the emperor was confusing demons and human beings.[1234]

But the word “demon” isn’t always used by Philostratus to mean an evil spirit. The announcement of Apollonius's birth was made to his mother by Proteus in the form of an Egyptian demon. Damis viewed Apollonius himself as a demon and worshiped him as such, especially after he heard him say that he understood not just all human languages but also those things that people keep secret. In a letter to Euphrates, Apollonius states that the all-wise Pythagoras should be categorized among demons. However, when Domitian first met Apollonius and said that he looked like a demon, the sage replied that the emperor was mixing up demons and humans.

Philostratus’s faith in demons.

Philostratus adds his own bit of personal testimony to the existence of demons, although it cannot be said to be very convincing. After telling the satyr story he warns his readers not to be incredulous as to the existence of satyrs or to doubt that they make love. For they should not mistrust what is supported by experience and by Philostratus’s own word. For he knew in Lemnos a youth of his own age whose mother was said to be visited by a satyr, and such he probably was, since he wore a fawn skin tied around his neck by the two front paws.[1235]

Philostratus shares his own personal experience regarding the existence of demons, though it isn’t particularly convincing. After recounting the story of the satyr, he urges his readers not to disbelieve in satyrs or doubt that they engage in romantic encounters. They should trust what is backed by experience and Philostratus’s own testimony. He recalls knowing a young man of his own age in Lemnos, who was said to have a mother visited by a satyr, and he likely was one, as he wore a fawn skin tied around his neck with its two front paws.[1235]

The ghost of Achilles.

Apollonius had an interview with the ghost of Achilles which strongly suggests necromancy. He sent his companions on board ship and passed the night alone at the hero’s tomb. Nor did he allude to what had happened until questioned by the curious Damis. He then averred that his method of invoking the dead had not been that of Odysseus, but that he had prayed to Achilles much as the Indians do to their heroes. A slight earthquake then occurred and Achilles appeared. At first he was five cubits tall but gradually increased to some twelve cubits in height. At cock-crow he vanished in a flash of summer lightning.[1236]

Apollonius had a conversation with the ghost of Achilles that strongly implies necromancy. He sent his friends on board the ship and spent the night alone at the hero’s tomb. He didn’t mention what happened until the curious Damis questioned him. He then stated that his method of summoning the dead was different from Odysseus’s; instead, he had prayed to Achilles in a way similar to how the Indians honor their heroes. Then, there was a slight earthquake, and Achilles appeared. At first, he was about five cubits tall but gradually grew to around twelve cubits in height. At dawn, he vanished in a flash of summer lightning.[1236]

Healing the sick and raising the dead.

Apollonius, as well as the Brahmans, wrought some cures. One was of a boy who had been bitten by a mad dog and consequently “behaved exactly like a dog, for he barked and howled and went on all fours.”[1237] Apollonius first found and quieted the dog, and then made it lick the wound, a homeopathic treatment which cured the boy. It now only remained to cure the dog, too, and this the philosopher effected by praying to the river which was near by and then making the dog swim across it. “For,” concludes Philostratus, “a drink of water will cure a mad dog if he only can be induced to take it.” The modern reader will suspect that the dog was not mad to begin with and that Apollonius[Pg 265] cleverly cured the boy’s complaint by the same force that had induced it—suggestion. Apollonius once revived a maiden who was being borne to the grave by touching her and saying something to her, but Philostratus honestly admits that he is not sure whether he restored her to life or detected signs of life in the body which had escaped the notice of everyone else.[1238]

Apollonius, like the Brahmans, performed some healing. One case involved a boy who had been bitten by a rabid dog and as a result “acted just like a dog, barking, howling, and crawling on all fours.”[1237] Apollonius first tracked down and calmed the dog, then made it lick the wound, a homeopathic approach that healed the boy. Next, he needed to cure the dog as well, which he did by praying to the nearby river and having the dog swim across it. “For,” Philostratus concludes, “a drink of water can cure a rabid dog if it can be persuaded to take it.” Modern readers might think the dog wasn’t rabid in the first place and that Apollonius cleverly treated the boy’s condition through suggestion. Apollonius also once revived a girl who was being carried to her burial by touching her and saying something. However, Philostratus honestly admits he isn't sure if he actually brought her back to life or simply noticed signs of life in the body that everyone else had missed.[1238]

Other marvels.

When Apollonius was brought before Tigellinus, the scroll on which the charges against him had been written was found to have become quite blank when Tigellinus unrolled it.[1239] Upon that occasion and again before Domitian he intimated that his body could not be bound or slain against his will.[1240] The former contention he proved to the satisfaction of Damis, who visited him in prison, by suddenly removing his leg from the fetters and then inserting it again.[1241] Damis regarded this exhibition as a divine miracle, since Apollonius performed it without magical ceremony or incantations. He is also represented as escaping from his bonds at about midnight when imprisoned later in life in Crete.[1242] Philostratus, too, implies that he vanished miraculously from the courtroom of Domitian and that he sometimes passed from one place to another in an incredibly short time, and is somewhat doubtful whether he ever died. But we have seen that even on the testimony of Damis and Philostratus themselves many of the marvels and predictions of Apollonius were not “artless” but involved a knowledge of contemporary natural science and medicine, or of arts of divination, or the employment, in a way not unlike the procedure of magic, of forces and materials outside himself, namely, the occult virtues of things in nature or incantations, rites, and ceremonies.

When Apollonius was brought before Tigellinus, the scroll that listed the charges against him was found to be completely blank when Tigellinus unrolled it.[1239] On that occasion, and again before Domitian, he suggested that his body couldn't be restrained or killed against his will.[1240] He demonstrated the first claim to Damis, who visited him in prison, by suddenly removing his leg from the chains and then putting it back.[1241] Damis viewed this act as a divine miracle since Apollonius did it without any magical rituals or spells. He is also said to have escaped from his restraints around midnight when he was imprisoned later in life in Crete.[1242] Philostratus also suggests that he vanished miraculously from Domitian's courtroom and that he sometimes traveled from one place to another in an incredibly short time, and there's some uncertainty about whether he ever actually died. However, we have seen that even based on the accounts of Damis and Philostratus themselves, many of the wonders and prophecies of Apollonius were not “artless” but required knowledge of contemporary natural science and medicine, or the skills of divination, or the use, in a manner similar to magic, of forces and materials outside himself, namely, the hidden properties of things in nature or spells, rituals, and ceremonies.

Golden wrynecks and the iunx.

So much for Apollonius and his magic, but the Life contains some interesting allusions to the ἴυγξ or wryneck, which throw light upon the use of that bird in Greek magic, but which have seldom been noted and then not correctly[Pg 266] interpreted.[1243] The wryneck was so much employed in Greek magic, as references to it from Pindar to Theocritus show, that the word iunx was sometimes used as a synonym or figurative expression for spells or charms in general. Philostratus, too, employs it in this sense, representing the Gymnosophists as accusing the Brahmans of “appealing to the crowd with varied enchantments (or iunges).”[1244] But in other passages he makes it clear that the wryneck is still employed as a magic bird. Describing the royal palace at Babylon[1245] he states that the Magi have hung four golden wrynecks, which they themselves attune and which they call the tongues of the gods, from the ceiling of the judgment hall to remind the king of divine judgment and not to set himself above mankind. Golden wrynecks were also suspended in the Pythian temple at Delphi, and in this connection they are said to possess some of the virtue of the Sirens,[1246] or, as Mr. Cook translates it, “to echo the persuasive note of siren voices.” These two passages seem to point clearly to the employment of mechanical metal birds which sang and moved as if by magic. The Greek mathematician Hero in his explanation of mechanical devices employed in temples tells how to make a bird turn itself about and whistle by turning a wheel.[1247]

So much for Apollonius and his magic, but the Life contains some interesting references to the wryneck, which shed light on the use of that bird in Greek magic, yet have rarely been mentioned and even then not accurately[Pg 266] interpreted.[1243] The wryneck was commonly used in Greek magic, as shown by references from Pindar to Theocritus, to the point where the word iunx was sometimes used as a synonym or figurative term for spells or charms in general. Philostratus also uses it in this way, depicting the Gymnosophists as accusing the Brahmans of “using various enchantments (or iunges) to appeal to the crowd.”[1244] However, in other sections, he clarifies that the wryneck is still being used as a magical bird. While describing the royal palace at Babylon[1245], he notes that the Magi have hung four golden wrynecks from the ceiling of the judgment hall, which they tune themselves and call the tongues of the gods, reminding the king of divine judgment and urging him not to elevate himself above humanity. Golden wrynecks were also hung in the Pythian temple at Delphi, and in this context, they are said to have some of the qualities of the Sirens,[1246] or, as Mr. Cook translates it, “to echo the persuasive note of siren voices.” These two passages clearly indicate the use of mechanical metal birds that sang and moved as if by magic. The Greek mathematician Hero, in his explanation of mechanical devices used in temples, describes how to make a bird turn and whistle by turning a wheel.[1247]

Why named iunx?

Now this is precisely what the wryneck does in its “wonderful way of writhing its head and neck” and emitting hissing sounds. The bird’s “unmistakable note” is “que, que,[Pg 267] que, repeated many times in succession, at first rapidly, but gradually slowing and in a continually falling key.”[1248] I would therefore suggest that as the English name for the bird is derived from its writhing its neck, so the Greek name comes from its cry, for “que” and the root ἰυγ, if repeated rapidly many times in succession, sound much alike.[1249]

Now this is exactly what the wryneck does in its “amazing way of twisting its head and neck” and making hissing sounds. The bird’s “distinctive call” is “que, que,[Pg 267] que,” repeated many times in a row, starting quickly but gradually slowing down and dropping in pitch.”[1248] I would therefore suggest that just as the English name for the bird comes from its twisting neck, the Greek name is derived from its call, since “que” and the root ἰυγ, when repeated rapidly many times, sound quite similar.[1249]

Apollonius in the middle ages.

The name, Apollonius, continued to be associated with magic in the middle ages, when the Golden Flowers of Apollonius, a work on the notory art or theurgy,[1250] is found in the manuscripts. And we shall find Cecco d’Ascoli[1251] in the early fourteenth century citing a “book of magic art” by Apollonius and also a treatise on spirits, De angelica factione. In 1412 Amplonius listed in the catalogue of his manuscripts a “book of Apollonius the magician or philosopher which is called Elizinus.”[1252] Works on the causes and properties of things are also ascribed to Apollonius in medieval manuscripts,[1253] and a Balenus or Belenus to whom works on astrological images and seals are ascribed in the manuscripts[1254] is perhaps a corruption for Apollonius.[1255]

The name Apollonius remained linked to magic during the Middle Ages, when the Golden Flowers of Apollonius, a work on the notorious art of theurgy, [1250] is found in the manuscripts. We will also find Cecco d’Ascoli [1251] in the early fourteenth century referencing a “book of magic art” by Apollonius and a treatise on spirits, De angelica factione. In 1412, Amplonius included in the catalogue of his manuscripts a “book of Apollonius the magician or philosopher called Elizinus.” [1252] Works on the causes and properties of things are also attributed to Apollonius in medieval manuscripts, [1253] and a Balenus or Belenus, to whom works on astrological images and seals are attributed in the manuscripts [1254] may be a corruption of Apollonius. [1255]


[Pg 268]

[Pg 268]

CHAPTER IX
LITERARY AND PHILOSOPHICAL ATTACKS UPON SUPERSTITION: CICERO, FAVORINUS, SEXTUS EMPIRICUS, AND LUCIAN

Authors to be considered—Their standpoint—De divinatione; argument of Quintus—Cicero attacks past authority—Divination distinct from natural science—Unreasonable in method—Requires violation of natural law—Cicero and astrology—His crude historical criticism—Favorinus against astrologers—Sextus Empiricus—Lucius, or The Ass: is it by Lucian?—Career of Lucian—Alexander the pseudo-prophet—Magical procedure in medicine satirized—Snake-charming—A Hyperborean magician—Some ghost stories—Pancrates, the magician—Credulity and scepticism—Menippus, or Necromancy—Astrological interpretation of Greek myth—History and defense of astrology—Lucian not always sceptical—Lucian and medicine—Inevitable intermingling of scepticism and superstition—Lucian on writing history.

Authors to consider—Their viewpoint—De divinatione; Quintus's argument—Cicero critiques previous authority—Divination is different from natural science—Unreasonable methods—Involves breaking natural law—Cicero and astrology—His simplistic historical analysis—Favorinus opposing astrologers—Sextus Empiricus—Lucius, or The Ass: is it written by Lucian?—Lucian's career—Alexander the pseudo-prophet—Satire on magical practices in medicine—Snake charming—A magician from Hyperborea—A few ghost stories—Pancrates, the magician—Belief and doubt—Menippus, or Necromancy—Astrological readings of Greek mythology—The history and defense of astrology—Lucian is not entirely skeptical—Lucian and medicine—The inevitable blend of skepticism and superstition—Lucian on writing history.

Authors to be considered.

Having noted the large amount of magic that still existed both in the leading works of natural science of the early Roman empire and in the more general literature of that period, it is only fair that we should note such extremes of scepticism towards the superstitions then current as can be found during the same period. They are, however, few and far between, and we shall have to go back to the close of the Republican period for the best instance in the De divinatione of Cicero. As Pliny’s Natural History was mainly a compilation of earlier Greek science, so Cicero’s arguments against divination were not entirely original with him. As his other philosophical writings are largely indebted to the Greeks, so his attack upon divination is supposed to be under considerable obligations to Clitomachus and Panaetius,[1256] philosophers of the New Academy and the[Pg 269] Stoic school who flourished respectively at Carthage and Athens and at Rhodes and Rome in the second century before our era. We shall next briefly note the criticisms of astrologers and astrology made by Favorinus, a rhetorician from Gaul who resided at Rome under Hadrian and was a friend of Plutarch but whose argument against the astrologers has been preserved only in the Attic Nights of Aulus Gellius,[1257] and by Sextus Empiricus,[1258] a sceptical philosopher who wrote about 200. Finally we shall consider Lucian’s satirical depiction of various superstitions of his time.

Having recognized the significant amount of magic that still existed both in the main works of natural science during the early Roman Empire and in the broader literature of that period, it's only right to acknowledge the instances of skepticism towards the superstitions of the time. However, these instances are rare, and we have to look back to the end of the Republican period for the best example found in Cicero's De divinatione. Just as Pliny’s Natural History mainly compiled earlier Greek science, Cicero’s arguments against divination were not all original to him. As with his other philosophical writings, which heavily draw from Greek thought, his critique of divination is believed to have significant influences from Clitomachus and Panaetius, philosophers from the New Academy and Stoic school who thrived in Carthage and Athens and in Rhodes and Rome during the second century BCE. Next, we’ll briefly look at the criticisms of astrologers and astrology made by Favorinus, a rhetorician from Gaul who lived in Rome under Hadrian and was a friend of Plutarch, though his arguments against astrologers have only been preserved in Aulus Gellius's Attic Nights, and by Sextus Empiricus, a skeptical philosopher who wrote around 200 CE. Finally, we will examine Lucian’s satirical portrayal of various superstitions of his time.

Their standpoint.

It will be noticed that no one of these critics of magic, if we may so designate them, is primarily a natural scientist. Cicero and Lucian and Favorinus are primarily men of letters and rhetoricians. And all four of our critics write to a greater or less extent from the professed standpoint of a general sceptical attitude in all matters of philosophy and not merely in the matter of superstition. Thus the attack of Sextus Empiricus upon astrology occurs in a work which is directed against learning in general, and in which he assails grammarians, rhetoricians, geometricians, arithmeticians, students of music, logicians, physicists, and students of ethics, as well as the casters of horoscopes. Aulus Gellius did not know whether to take the arguments of Favorinus against the astrologers seriously or not. He says that he heard Favorinus make the speech the substance of which he repeats, but that he is unable to state whether the philosopher really meant what he said or argued merely in order to exercise and to display his genius. There was reason for this perplexity of Aulus Gellius, since Favorinus was inclined to such tours de force as eulogies of Thersites or of Quartan Fever.

It’s noticeable that none of these critics of magic, if we can call them that, are primarily natural scientists. Cicero, Lucian, and Favorinus are mainly writers and rhetoricians. All four of our critics approach their topics from a largely skeptical perspective concerning all areas of philosophy, not just superstition. For example, Sextus Empiricus’s criticism of astrology appears in a work that critiques knowledge in general, where he targets grammarians, rhetoricians, mathematicians, music students, logicians, physicists, and ethics scholars, as well as astrologers. Aulus Gellius was unsure whether to take Favorinus’s arguments against astrologers seriously or not. He mentions hearing Favorinus deliver the speech he summarizes but struggles to determine whether the philosopher genuinely believed what he said or was just aiming to showcase his intellect. This confusion for Aulus Gellius was reasonable, as Favorinus often engaged in such flashy displays, like praising Thersites or Quartan Fever.

De divinatione: argument of Quintus.

De divinatione takes the form of a supposititious conversation, or better, informal debate, between the author and his brother Quintus. In the first book Quintus, in a rather rambling and leisurely fashion and with occasional repetition[Pg 270] of ideas, upholds divination to the best of his ability, citing many reported instances of successful recourse to it in antiquity. In the second book Tully proceeds with a somewhat patronizing air to pull entirely to pieces the arguments of his brother who assents with cheerful readiness to their demolition. On the whole the appeal to the past is the main point in the argument of Quintus. What race or state, he asks, has not believed in some form of divination? “For before the revelation of philosophy, which was discovered but recently, public opinion had no doubt of the truth of this art; and after philosophy emerged no philosopher of authority thought otherwise. I have mentioned Pythagoras, Democritus, Socrates. I have left out no one of the ancients save Xenophanes. I have added the Old Academy, the Peripatetics, the Stoics. Epicurus alone dissented.”[1259] Quintus closes his long argument in favor of the truth of divination by solemnly asserting that he does not approve of sorcerers, nor of those who prophesy for the sake of gain, nor of the practice of questioning the spirits of the dead—which nevertheless, he says, was a custom of his brother’s friend Appius.[1260]

De divinatione is presented as a fictional conversation, or more accurately, an informal debate between the author and his brother Quintus. In the first book, Quintus leisurely defends divination, sometimes repeating ideas and citing many examples from history where it was reportedly successful. In the second book, Tully somewhat condescendingly dismantles his brother's arguments, to which Quintus willingly agrees. Essentially, Quintus's main argument relies on historical appeal. He questions what race or state hasn't believed in some form of divination. “Before philosophy was revealed, which has been around only recently, people believed in this practice without doubt; and even after philosophy emerged, no reputable philosopher disagreed. I mentioned Pythagoras, Democritus, and Socrates. I haven’t left out anyone from the ancients except for Xenophanes. I included the Old Academy, the Peripatetics, and the Stoics. Only Epicurus disagreed.” Quintus concludes his long argument in favor of the truth of divination by firmly stating that he does not support sorcerers, those who prophesy for profit, or the practice of consulting the spirits of the dead—which, he notes, was a habit of his brother’s friend Appius.[1259]

Cicero attacks past authority.

When Tully’s turn to speak comes, he rudely disturbs his brother’s reliance upon tradition. “I think it not the part of a philosopher to employ witnesses, who are only haply true and often purposely false and deceiving. He ought to show why a thing is so by arguments and reasons, not by events, especially those I cannot credit.”[1261] “Antiquity,” Cicero declares later, “has erred in many respects.”[1262] The existence of the art of divination in every age and nation has little effect upon him. There is nothing, he asserts, so widespread as ignorance.[1263]

When it's Tully's turn to speak, he disrupts his brother's trust in tradition. “I don’t think it’s right for a philosopher to use witnesses who are sometimes truthful but often intentionally misleading and deceptive. He should explain why something is the way it is with arguments and reasoning, not by relying on events that I can’t even believe.”[1261] “The ancients,” Cicero states later, “have made mistakes in many ways.”[1262] The presence of the practice of divination in every era and culture doesn’t affect him at all. He claims there’s nothing more common than ignorance.[1263]

Divination distinct from natural science.

Both brothers distinguish divination as a separate subject from the natural or even the applied sciences. Quintus says that medical men, pilots, and farmers foresee many things, yet their arts are not divination. “Not even Phere[Pg 271]cydes, that famous Pythagorean master, who predicted an earthquake when he saw that the water had disappeared from a well which usually was well filled, should be regarded as a diviner rather than a physicist.”[1264] Tully carries the distinction a step further and asserts that the sick seek a doctor, not a soothsayer; that diviners cannot instruct us in astronomy; that no one consults them concerning philosophic problems or ethical questions; that they can give us no light on the problems of the natural universe; and that they are of no service in logic, dialectic, or political science.[1265] An admirable declaration of independence of natural science and medicine and other arts and constructive forms of thought from the methods of divination! But also one more easy to state in general terms of theory than to enforce in details of practice, as Pliny, Galen, and Ptolemy have already shown us. None the less it is indeed a noteworthy restriction of the field of divination when Cicero remarks to his brother, “For those things which can be perceived beforehand either by art or reason or experience or conjecture you regard as not the affair of diviners but of scientists.”[1266] But the question remains whether too large powers of prediction may not be claimed by “science.”

Both brothers recognize divination as a distinct field separate from the natural or applied sciences. Quintus mentions that doctors, pilots, and farmers can anticipate many things, but their skills don't fall under divination. “Not even Phere[Pg 271]cydes, that well-known Pythagorean master, who predicted an earthquake when he saw that the water had disappeared from a well that was usually full, should be considered a diviner rather than a scientist.”[1264] Tully takes this distinction further, stating that sick people seek doctors, not fortune tellers; diviners can't teach us astronomy; no one asks them about philosophical issues or ethical dilemmas; they don’t provide insights into natural science problems; and they aren’t helpful in logic, dialectic, or political science.[1265] This is a commendable assertion of the independence of natural science, medicine, and other disciplines from the methods of divination! However, it's much easier to express this in general theoretical terms than to apply it in practice, as Pliny, Galen, and Ptolemy have already demonstrated. Nevertheless, Cicero’s comment to his brother is indeed a significant limitation of divination when he states, “For those things which can be perceived beforehand either by art or reason or experience or conjecture you regard as not the concern of diviners but of scientists.”[1266] But the question still stands whether “science” might not claim too great a power of prediction.

Unreasonable in method.

Cicero proceeds to attack the methods and assumptions of divination as neither reasonable nor scientific. Why, he asks, did Calchas deduce from the devoured sparrows that the Trojan war would last ten years rather than ten weeks or ten months?[1267] He points out that the art is conducted in different places according to quite different rules of procedure, even to the extent that a favorable omen in one locality is a sinister warning elsewhere.[1268] He refuses to believe in any extraordinary bonds of sympathy between things which, in so far as our daily experience and our[Pg 272] knowledge of the workings of nature can inform us, have no causal connection. What intimate connection, he asks, what bond of natural causality can there be between the liver or heart or lung of a fat bull and the divine eternal cause of all which rules the universe?[1269] “That anything certain is signified by uncertain things, is not this the last thing a scientist should admit?”[1270] He refuses to accept dreams as fit channels either of natural divination or divine revelation.[1271] The Sibylline Books, like most oracles, are vague and the evident product of labored ingenuity.[1272]

Cicero goes on to criticize the methods and assumptions of divination, arguing that they are neither logical nor scientific. He questions why Calchas inferred from the eaten sparrows that the Trojan war would last ten years instead of just ten weeks or ten months. [1267] He notes that the practice varies in different locations according to completely different rules, to the point that a good omen in one place can be a bad sign somewhere else. [1268] He refuses to believe in any unusual connections between things that, based on our daily experiences and our understanding of nature, have no causal link. What genuine relationship, he asks, what natural connection can exist between the liver, heart, or lungs of a fat bull and the divine, eternal cause of everything governing the universe? [1269] “Isn’t it absurd for a scientist to accept that certain things can be indicated by uncertain ones?” [1270] He rejects dreams as suitable sources for either natural divination or divine messages. [1271] The Sibylline Books, like most oracles, are vague and clearly crafted with great effort. [1272]

Requires violation of natural law.

Moreover, divination asserts the existence of phenomena which science denies. Such a figment, Cicero scornfully affirms, as that the heart will vanish from the carcass of a victim is not believed even by old-wives now-a-days. How can the heart vanish from the body? Surely it must be there as long as life lasts, and how can it disappear in an instant? “Believe me, you are abandoning the citadel of philosophy while you defend its outposts. For in your effort to prove soothsaying true you utterly pervert physiology.... For there will be something which either springs from nothing or suddenly vanishes into nothingness. What scientist ever said that? The soothsayers say so? Are they then, do you think, to be trusted rather than scientists?”[1273] Cicero makes other arguments against divination such as the stock contentions that it is useless to know predetermined events beforehand since they cannot be avoided, and that even if we can learn the future, we shall be happier not to do it, but his outstanding argument is that it is unscientific.

Moreover, divination claims the existence of phenomena that science rejects. Such a notion, Cicero scornfully argues, that the heart disappears from the body of a victim is not even believed by old wives today. How can the heart disappear from the body? It must be there as long as life lasts, and how can it vanish in an instant? “Believe me, you are abandoning the stronghold of philosophy while defending its outskirts. By trying to prove soothsaying true, you completely distort physiology.... For something must either come from nothing or suddenly vanish into nothingness. What scientist has ever said that? Do the soothsayers claim that? Should we trust them over scientists?”[1273] Cicero presents other arguments against divination, like the common points that knowing predetermined events in advance is pointless since they can't be changed, and that even if we could know the future, we would be happier not knowing it, but his main argument is that it is unscientific.

Cicero and astrology.

Cicero’s attack upon divination is mainly directed against liver divination and analogous methods of predicting the future, but he devotes a few chapters[1274] to the doctrines of the Chaldeans. They postulate a certain force in the constellations called the zodiac and hold that between[Pg 273] man and the position of the stars and planets at the moment of his birth there exists a relation of sympathy so that his personality and all the events of his life are thereby determined. Diogenes the Stoic limited this influence to the determination of one’s aptitude and vocation, but Cicero regards even this much as going too far. The immense spaces intervening between the different planets seem to him a reason for rejecting the contentions of the Chaldeans. His further criticism that they insist that all men born at the same moment are alike in character regardless of horizons and different aspects of the sky in different places is one that at least did not hold good permanently against astrology and is not true of Ptolemy. He asks if all the men who perished at Cannae were born beneath the same star and how it came about that there was only one Homer if several men are born every instant. He also adduces the stock argument from twins. He attacks the practice, which we shall find continued in the middle ages, of astrological prediction of the fate of cities. He says that if all animals are to be subjected to the stars, then inanimate things must be, too, than which nothing can be more absurd. This suggests that he hardly conceives of the fundamental hypothesis of medieval science that all inferior nature is under the influence of the celestial bodies and their motion and light. At any rate his arguments are directed against the casting of horoscopes or genethlialogy. And in the matter of the influence of the planets upon man he was not entirely antagonistic, at least in other writings than the De divinatione, for in the Dream of Scipio he speaks of Jupiter as a star wholesome and favorable to the human race, of Mars as most unfavorable. He further calls seven and eight perfect numbers and speaks of their product, fifty-six, as signifying the fatal year in Scipio’s life. Incidentally, as another instance that Cicero was not always sceptical, it may be recalled that it was in Cicero that Pliny read of a man who could see one hundred and thirty-five miles.[1275]

Cicero’s critique of divination mostly targets liver divination and similar methods of forecasting the future, but he spends a few chapters[1274] discussing the beliefs of the Chaldeans. They claim that there's a force in the constellations called the zodiac and believe that there's a sympathetic connection between a person and the positions of the stars and planets at the time of their birth, determining their personality and all the events of their life. Diogenes the Stoic restricted this influence to one's skills and career, but Cicero thinks even that is overreaching. He argues that the vast distances between the planets should disprove the Chaldeans' claims. He also criticizes their assertion that all people born at the same time share the same character, regardless of different locations and variations in the sky, which is a point that doesn’t always hold against astrology and isn’t true for Ptolemy. He questions whether all the men who died at Cannae were under the same star and wonders why there was only one Homer if multiple people are born every moment. He brings up the common argument about twins as well. He challenges the idea, which persisted into the Middle Ages, of predicting a city’s fate through astrology. He states that if all animals are influenced by the stars, then inanimate things must be too, which is utterly absurd. This suggests he likely doesn’t grasp the fundamental idea of medieval science that all lesser nature is affected by celestial bodies and their movements and light. At any rate, his arguments focus on the casting of horoscopes or genethlialogy. Regarding the influence of planets on humans, he wasn’t completely opposed, at least in his other writings aside from the De divinatione, as in the Dream of Scipio he describes Jupiter as beneficial and Mars as very harmful. He also considers seven and eight to be perfect numbers and mentions their product, fifty-six, as representing the fateful year in Scipio’s life. Additionally, as another example of Cicero not always being skeptical, it's worth noting that Cicero is where Pliny read about a man who could see one hundred and thirty-five miles.[1275]

[Pg 274]

[Pg 274]

His crude historical criticism.

Such apparent inconsistency is perhaps a sign of somewhat indiscriminating eclecticism on Cicero’s part. We experience something of a shock, although perhaps we should not be surprised, to find him in his Republic[1276] arguing as seriously in favor of the ascension or apotheosis of Romulus as a historic fact as a professor of natural science in a denominational college might argue in favor of the historicity of the resurrection of Christ. Although in the De divinatione he impatiently brushed aside the testimony of so great a cloud of witnesses and of most philosophers in favor of divination, he now argues that the opinion that Romulus had become a god “could not have prevailed so universally unless there had been some extraordinary manifestation of power,” and that “this is the more remarkable because other men, said to have become gods, lived in less learned times when the mind was prone to invent and the inexperienced were easily led to believe,” whereas Romulus lived only six centuries ago when literature and learning had already made great progress in removing error, when “Greece was already full of poets and musicians, and little faith was placed in legends unless they concerned remote antiquity.” Yet a few chapters later Cicero notes that Numa could not have been a pupil of Pythagoras, since the latter did not come to Italy until 140 years after his death;[1277] and in a third chapter[1278] when Laelius remarks, “That king is indeed praised but Roman History is obscure, for although we know the mother of this king, we are ignorant of his father,” Scipio replies, “That is so; but in those times it was almost enough if only the names of the kings were recorded.” We can only add, “Consistency, thou art a jewel!”

Such obvious inconsistency might be a sign of Cicero's somewhat indiscriminate eclecticism. We experience a bit of a shock, though maybe we shouldn't be surprised, to find him in his Republic[1276] arguing seriously for the ascension or deification of Romulus as a historical fact, similar to how a natural science professor at a religious college might argue for the historicity of Christ's resurrection. While in the De divinatione he dismissively brushed aside the testimony of a vast number of witnesses and most philosophers in favor of divination, he now argues that the belief that Romulus became a god “could not have been so widely accepted unless there was some extraordinary display of power,” and that “this is even more notable because other figures, said to have become gods, lived in less educated times when people were more prone to invent narratives and the gullible were easy to persuade,” whereas Romulus lived only six centuries ago when literature and knowledge had already made significant progress in eliminating falsehoods, and “Greece was already full of poets and musicians, and little trust was placed in legends unless they dealt with ancient history.” Yet a few chapters later, Cicero points out that Numa couldn't have been a student of Pythagoras because the latter didn't arrive in Italy until 140 years after his death;[1277] and in a later chapter[1278] when Laelius comments, “That king is indeed praised but Roman History is unclear, for although we know the mother of this king, we don’t know his father,” Scipio responds, “That’s true; but back in those times it was almost sufficient if only the names of the kings were recorded.” We can only add, “Consistency, you are a treasure!”

Favorinus against astrologers.

Favorinus denied that the doctrine of nativities was the work of the Chaldeans and regarded it as the more recent invention of marvel-mongers, tricksters, and mountebanks. He regards the inference from the effect of the moon on tides to that of the stars on every incident of our daily life[Pg 275] as unwarranted. He further objects that if the Chaldeans did record astronomical observations these would apply only to their own region and that observations extended over a vast lapse of time would be necessary to establish any system of astrology, since it requires ages before the stars return to their previous positions. Like Cicero, Favorinus probably manifests his ignorance of the technique of astrology in complaining that astrologers do not allow for the different influence of different constellations in different parts of the earth. More cogent is his suggestion that there may be other stars equal in power to the planets which men cannot see either for their excess of splendor or because of their position. He also objects that the position of the stars is not the same at the time of conception and the time of birth, and that, if the different fate of twins may be explained by the fact that after all they are not born at precisely the same moment, the time of birth and the position of the stars must be measured with an exactness practically impossible. He also contends that it is not for human beings to predict the future and that the subjection of man not merely in matters of external fortune but in his own acts of will to the stars is not to be borne. These two arguments of the divine prerogative and of human free will became Christian favorites. He complains that the astrologers predict great events like battles but cannot predict small ones, and declares that they may congratulate themselves that he does not propose such a question to them as that of astral influence on minute animals. This and his further question why, out of all the grand works of nature, the astrologers limit their attention to petty human fortune, suggest that like Cicero he did not realize that astrology was or would become a theory of all nature and not mere genethlialogy.

Favorinus rejected the idea that the concept of nativities came from the Chaldeans, viewing it instead as a more recent invention by showmen, frauds, and con artists. He felt that linking the moon's effect on tides to the stars influencing every part of our daily lives was unfounded. He further argued that even if the Chaldeans did make astronomical observations, they would only apply to their own area, and that a long period of time would be needed to establish any system of astrology, given that it takes ages for the stars to return to their original positions. Similar to Cicero, Favorinus likely showed his lack of understanding of astrology by complaining that astrologers don’t account for the varying influences of different constellations in different regions of the earth. More compelling was his point that there could be other stars with the same power as the planets that are invisible due to their brightness or their location. He also noted that the positions of the stars are not the same at the moment of conception and at birth, and argued that if the differing destinies of twins could be explained by the fact they aren’t born at exactly the same time, then measuring birth time and star positions would require a level of precision that's almost impossible. He contended that it isn’t up to humans to predict the future and that the control of human actions—both in external fortune and personal will—by the stars is unacceptable. These two arguments regarding divine authority and human free will became popular in Christian thought. He criticized astrologers for predicting major events like wars but failing to forecast smaller ones, and he remarked that they should feel fortunate he doesn’t ask them about the influence of the stars on tiny creatures. This, along with his question of why, among all of nature’s great works, astrologers focus only on trivial human fortunes, suggests that, similar to Cicero, he did not understand that astrology was or would become a theory encompassing all of nature and not just the study of births.

Sextus Empiricus.

To the arguments against nativities that men die the same death who were not born at the same time and that men who are born at the same time are not identical in character or fortune Sextus Empiricus adds the derisive question whether a man and an ass born in the same instant[Pg 276] would suffer exactly the same destiny. Ptolemy would of course reply that while the influence of the stars is constant in both cases it is variably received by men and donkeys; and Sextus’s query does not show him very well versed in astrology. He mentions the obstacle of free will to astrological theory but does not make very much of it. The chief point which he makes is that even if the stars do rule human destiny, their effect cannot be accurately measured. He lays stress on the difficulty of exactly determining the date of birth or of conception, or the precise moment when a star passes into a new sign of the zodiac. He notes the variability and unreliability of water-clocks. He calls attention to the fact that observers at varying altitudes as well as in different localities would arrive at different conclusions. Differences in eyesight would also affect results, and it is difficult to tell just when the sun sets or any sign of the zodiac drops below the horizon owing to reflection and refraction of rays. Sextus thus leaves us somewhat in doubt whether his objections are to be taken as indicative of a spirit of captious criticism towards an art, the fundamental principles of which he tacitly recognizes as well-nigh incontestable, or whether he is simply trying to make his case doubly sure by showing astrology to be impracticable as well as unreasonable. In any case we shall find his argument that the influence of the stars cannot be measured accurately repeated by Christian writers.

To the arguments against astrology that people who die at different times don’t experience the same fate and that those born at the same time aren’t identical in character or fortune, Sextus Empiricus adds a mocking question about whether a man and a donkey born at the same moment would share the same destiny.[Pg 276] Ptolemy would likely respond that while the influence of the stars is constant, it affects humans and donkeys differently; Sextus’s question suggests he doesn't really understand astrology. He brings up the issue of free will in relation to astrology but doesn’t emphasize it much. The main point he makes is that even if the stars influence human destiny, their effects can’t be measured precisely. He highlights the challenges of determining the exact date of birth or conception, or the moment when a star moves into a new zodiac sign. He notes how variable and unreliable water clocks can be. He points out that observers at different altitudes and locations would come to various conclusions. Differences in eyesight would also affect results, making it hard to know the exact moment the sun sets or when any zodiac sign goes below the horizon due to the reflection and refraction of light. Sextus leaves us a bit uncertain about whether his objections are a sign of petty criticism toward an art whose basic principles he seems to recognize as almost undisputed, or if he’s just trying to back up his argument by showing that astrology is both impractical and unreasonable. In any case, we will find that his argument that the influence of the stars can’t be accurately measured is echoed by Christian writers.

Lucius or The Ass: is it by Lucian?

The main plot of the Metamorphoses of Apuleius appears, shorn of the many additional stories, the religious mysticism, and the autobiographical element which characterize his narrative, in a brief and perhaps epitomized Greek version, entitled Lucius or The Ass, among the works of Lucian of Samosata, the contemporary of Apuleius and noted satirist. The work is now commonly regarded as spurious, since the style seems different from that of Lucian and the Attic Greek less pure. The narrative, too, is bare, at least compared with the exuberant fancy of Apuleius, and seems to avoid the marvelous and romantic details in which[Pg 277] he abounds. Photius, patriarch of Constantinople in the ninth century, who regarded the work as Lucian’s, said that he wrote in it as one deriding the extravagance of superstition. Whether this be true of The Ass or not, it is true of other satires by Lucian of undisputed genuineness, in which he ridicules the impostures of the magic and pseudo-science of his day. In place of the genial humor and fantastic imagination with which his African contemporary credulously welcomed the magic and occult science of his time, the Syrian satirist probes the same with the cool mockery of his keen and sceptical wit.

The main plot of the Metamorphoses by Apuleius can be seen, stripped of the many extra stories, religious mysticism, and autobiographical elements that define his narrative, in a brief and possibly summarized Greek version called Lucius or The Ass, included in the works of Lucian of Samosata, a contemporary of Apuleius known for his satire. This work is now often considered fake because the style appears different from Lucian's, and the Attic Greek is less polished. The narrative is also quite bare, especially when compared to the rich imagination of Apuleius, and seems to steer clear of the marvelous and romantic details that he often includes. Photius, the patriarch of Constantinople in the ninth century, who believed this work was by Lucian, claimed that he wrote it as a way of mocking the excesses of superstition. Whether this is true for The Ass or not, it certainly applies to other satirical works by Lucian that are confirmed as genuine, where he ridicules the frauds of the magic and pseudo-science of his time. Instead of the warm humor and fantastic creativity that his African contemporary eagerly embraced in the magic and occult sciences of the era, the Syrian satirist critiques the same subjects with a sharp and skeptical wit.

Career of Lucian.

Lucian was born at Samosata near Antioch about 120 or 125 A. D. and after an unsuccessful beginning as a sculptor’s apprentice turned to literature and philosophy. He practiced in the law courts at Antioch for some time and also wrote speeches for others. For a considerable period of his life he roamed about the Mediterranean world from Paphlagonia to Gaul as a rhetorician, and like Apuleius resided both at Athens and Rome. After forty he ceased teaching rhetoric and devoted himself to literary production, living at Athens. Towards the close of his life, “when he already had one foot in Charon’s boat,”[1279] he was holding a well paid and important legal position in Egypt. His death occurred perhaps about 200 A. D. Some ascribe it to gout, probably because he wrote two satires on that disease. Suidas states that Lucian was torn to pieces by dogs as a punishment for his attacks upon Christianity, which again is probably a perversion of Lucian’s own statement in Peregrinus that he narrowly escaped being torn to pieces by the Cynics.

Lucian was born in Samosata near Antioch around 120 or 125 A.D. After a failed stint as a sculptor’s apprentice, he shifted his focus to literature and philosophy. He practiced law at the courts in Antioch for some time and wrote speeches for others. For a significant part of his life, he traveled across the Mediterranean, from Paphlagonia to Gaul, working as a rhetorician, and like Apuleius, he lived in both Athens and Rome. After turning forty, he stopped teaching rhetoric and focused on writing while living in Athens. Toward the end of his life, “when he already had one foot in Charon’s boat,”[1279] he held a well-paid and important legal position in Egypt. He likely died around 200 A.D. Some attribute his death to gout, probably because he wrote two satires about that illness. Suidas claims that Lucian was torn apart by dogs as punishment for his criticisms of Christianity, which likely distorts Lucian’s own remark in Peregrinus that he narrowly escaped being ripped apart by the Cynics.

Alexander the pseudo-prophet.

It was at the request of that same adversary of Christianity against whom Origen composed the Reply to Celsus that Lucian wrote his account of the impostor, Alexander of Abonutichus, a pseudo-prophet of Paphlagonia. This Alexander pretended to discover the god Asclepius in the form of a small viper which he had sealed up in a goose egg.[Pg 278] He then replaced the tiny viper by a huge tame serpent which he had purchased at Pella in Macedon and which was trained to hide its head in Alexander’s armpit, while to the crowd, who were also permitted to touch the tail and body of the real snake, was shown a false serpent’s head made of linen with human features and a mouth that opened and shut and a tongue that could be made to dart in and out. Having thus convinced the people that the viper had really been a god and had miraculously increased in size, Alexander proceeded to sell oracular responses as from the god. Inquirers submitted their questions in sealed packages which were later returned to them with appropriate answers and with the seals unbroken and apparently untouched. Similarly Plutarch tells of a sceptical opponent of oracles who became converted into their ardent supporter by receiving such an answer to a sealed letter.[1280] Lucian, however, explains that Alexander sometimes used a hot needle to melt the seal and then restore it to practically its original shape, or employed other methods by which he took exact impressions of the seal, then boldly broke it, read the question, and afterwards replaced the seal by an exact replica of the original made in the mould. Lucian adds that there are plenty of other devices of this sort which he does not need to repeat to Celsus who has already made a sufficient collection of them in his “excellent treatises against the magicians.” Lucian tells later, however, how Alexander made his god seem to speak by attaching a tube made of the windpipes of cranes to the artificial head and having an assistant outside speak through this concealed tube. In our later discussion of the church father Hippolytus we shall find that he apparently made use of this exposé of magic by Lucian as well as of the arguments of Sextus Empiricus against astrology. Lucian’s personal experiences with this Alexander were quite interesting but are less germane to our investigation.

It was at the request of the same opponent of Christianity against whom Origen wrote the Reply to Celsus that Lucian created his account of the fraud, Alexander of Abonutichus, a false prophet from Paphlagonia. This Alexander claimed he could reveal the god Asclepius in the shape of a small viper he had sealed in a goose egg.[Pg 278] He then swapped the tiny viper for a large tamed snake he had bought in Pella, Macedon, which had been trained to hide its head in Alexander’s armpit. The crowd, allowed to touch the real snake’s tail and body, was shown a fake serpent's head made of linen that had human features, a mouth that opened and closed, and a tongue that could flick in and out. Having convinced the people that the viper was really a god that had miraculously grown in size, Alexander began selling oracular responses as if they were from the god. People submitted their questions in sealed packages, which were later returned to them with appropriate answers and the seals seemingly intact. Similarly, Plutarch describes a skeptical opponent of oracles who became a fervent believer after receiving such an answer to a sealed letter. Lucian, however, explains that Alexander sometimes used a hot needle to melt the seal and then shaped it back to nearly its original form or used other methods to take exact impressions of the seal, then boldly broke it, read the question, and replaced the seal with an exact copy made from the mold. Lucian notes that there are many other tricks like this he doesn't need to detail for Celsus, who has already compiled a significant collection of them in his “excellent treatises against the magicians.” Later, Lucian explains how Alexander made his god appear to speak by attaching a tube made from crane windpipes to the fake head and having an assistant outside talk through this hidden tube. In our later discussion of the church father Hippolytus, we will find that he seemingly utilized this exposure of Alexander’s magic alongside the arguments of Sextus Empiricus against astrology. Lucian’s personal encounters with Alexander were quite intriguing but are less relevant to our investigation.

[Pg 279]

[Pg 279]

Magical procedure in medicine satirized.

We must not fail, however, to note another essay, Philopseudes or Apiston, in which the superstition and pseudo-science of antiquity are sharply satirized in what purports to be a conversation of several philosophers, including a Stoic, a Peripatetic, and a Platonist, and a representative of ancient medicine in the person of Antigonus, a doctor. Some of the magical procedure then employed in curing diseases is first satirized. Cleodemus the Peripatetic advises as a remedy for gout to take in the left hand the tooth of a field mouse which has been killed in a prescribed manner, to wrap it in the skin of a lion freshly-flayed, and thus to bind it about the ailing foot. He affirms that it will give instant relief. Dinomachus the Stoic admits that the occult virtue of the lion is very great and that its fat or right fore-paw or the bristles of its beard, if combined with the proper incantations, have wonderful efficacy. But he holds that for the cure of gout the skin of a virgin hind would be superior on the ground that the hind is speedier than the lion and so more beneficial to the feet. Cleodemus retorts that he used to think the same, but that a Libyan has convinced him that the lion can run faster than the hind or it would never catch one. The sceptical reporter of this conversation states that he vainly attempted to convince them that an internal disease could not be cured by external attachments or by incantations, methods which he regards as the veriest sorcery (goetia).

We shouldn’t overlook another essay, Philopseudes or Apiston, which sharply mocks the superstitions and pseudo-science of ancient times through what seems to be a discussion among several philosophers, including a Stoic, a Peripatetic, and a Platonist, along with a representative of ancient medicine in the form of Antigonus, a doctor. The essay first satirizes some of the magical methods used to treat diseases. Cleodemus the Peripatetic suggests a remedy for gout that involves taking the tooth of a field mouse killed in a specific way, wrapping it in the skin of a freshly-flayed lion, and binding it to the affected foot. He insists it will provide immediate relief. Dinomachus the Stoic acknowledges the lion's great magical power and states that its fat, right fore-paw, or the bristles of its beard, when paired with the right incantations, have remarkable effectiveness. However, he argues that for treating gout, the skin of a virgin hind is superior because the hind is faster than the lion, thus more helpful for the feet. Cleodemus counters that he used to believe the same thing until a Libyan convinced him that the lion can actually run faster than the hind, or it wouldn’t be able to catch one. The skeptical narrator of this conversation mentions that he fruitlessly tried to persuade them that an internal disease couldn’t be healed by external applications or incantations, which he considers pure sorcery (goetia).

Snake-charming.

His protests, however, merely lead Ion the Platonist to recount how a Magus, a Chaldean of Babylonia, cured his father’s gardener who had been stung by an adder on the great toe and was already all swollen up and nearly dead. The magician’s method was to apply a splinter of stone from the statue of a virgin to the toe, uttering at the same time an incantation. He then led the way to the field where the gardener had been stung; pronounced seven sacred names from an ancient volume, and fumigated the place thrice with torches and sulphur. All the snakes in the field then came forth from their holes with the exception of one very aged[Pg 280] and decrepit serpent, whom the magician sent a young snake back to fetch. Having thus assembled every last serpent, he blew upon them, and they all vanished into thin air.

His protests, however, only prompted Ion the Platonist to share the story of how a Magus, a Chaldean from Babylonia, healed his father’s gardener, who had been bitten by an adder on his big toe and was already swollen and nearly dead. The magician's technique was to place a splinter of stone from a statue of a virgin on the toe while reciting an incantation. He then took them to the field where the gardener had been bitten, pronounced seven sacred names from an ancient book, and burned torches and sulfur at the site three times. All the snakes in the field then came out of their burrows except for one very old and frail serpent, which the magician sent a young snake to retrieve. After gathering every single serpent, he blew on them, and they all disappeared into thin air.

A Hyperborean magician.

This tale reminds the Stoic of another magician, a barbarian and Hyperborean, who could walk through fire or upon water and even fly through the air. He could also “make people fall in love, call up spirits, resuscitate corpses, bring down the moon, and show you Hecate herself as large as life.”[1281] More specific illustration of the exercise of these powers is given in an account of a love spell which he performed for a young man for a big fee. Digging a trench, he raised the ghost of the youth’s father and also summoned Hecate, Cerberus, and the Moon. The last named appeared in three successive forms of a woman, an ox, and a puppy. The sorcerer then constructed a clay image of the god of love and sent it to fetch the girl, who came and stayed until cock-crow, when all the apparitions vanished with her. In vain the sceptic argues that the girl in question would have come willingly enough without any magic. The Platonist matches the previous story with one of a Syrian from Palestine who cast out demons.

This story reminds the Stoic of another magician, a barbarian and Hyperborean, who could walk through fire or water and even fly in the air. He could also “make people fall in love, call up spirits, bring the dead back to life, pull down the moon, and show you Hecate herself as if she were right there.” [1281] A more detailed example of these powers comes from a love spell he performed for a young man for a hefty fee. Digging a trench, he raised the ghost of the young man’s father and also summoned Hecate, Cerberus, and the Moon. The Moon appeared in three forms: a woman, an ox, and a puppy. The magician then made a clay image of the god of love and sent it to bring the girl, who came and stayed until dawn, when all the apparitions disappeared with her. The skeptic argues in vain that the girl would have come willingly without any magic. The Platonist pairs this story with one about a Syrian from Palestine who cast out demons.

Some ghost stories.

The discussion then further degenerates into ghost stories and tales of statuettes that leave their pedestals after the household has retired for the night. One speaker says that he no longer has any fear of ghosts since an Arab gave him a magic ring made of nails from crosses and taught him an incantation to use against spooks. At this juncture a Pythagorean philosopher of great repute enters and adds his testimony in the form of an account of how he laid a ghost at Corinth by employing an Egyptian incantation.

The conversation then shifts to ghost stories and tales of figurines that leave their stands after everyone in the house has gone to bed. One person mentions that he no longer fears ghosts since an Arab gave him a magic ring made from nails of crosses and taught him an incantation to ward off spirits. Just then, a well-known Pythagorean philosopher arrives and shares his own experience of how he banished a ghost in Corinth using an Egyptian incantation.

Pancrates, the magician.

Eucrates, the host, then tells of Pancrates, whom he had met in Egypt and who “had spent twenty-three years underground learning magic from Isis,” and whom crocodiles would allow to ride on their backs. They traveled a time together without a servant, since Pancrates was able to dress up the door-bar or a broom or pestle, turn it into human[Pg 281] form, and make it wait upon them. There follows the familiar story of Eucrates’ overhearing the incantation of three syllables which Pancrates employed and of trying it out himself when the magician was absent. The pestle turned into human form all right enough and obeyed his order to bring in water, but then he discovered that he could not make it stop, and when he seized an axe and chopped it in two, the only effect was to produce two water-carriers in place of one.

Eucrates, the host, then shares a story about Pancrates, whom he met in Egypt. Pancrates “had spent twenty-three years underground learning magic from Isis,” and crocodiles would let him ride on their backs. They traveled together for a while without a servant because Pancrates could transform a door-bar, a broom, or a pestle into a human form to serve them. There follows the well-known story of Eucrates overhearing the three-syllable incantation that Pancrates used and trying it out himself while the magician was away. The pestle successfully turned into a human form and followed his command to fetch water, but he soon found out he couldn’t make it stop. When he grabbed an axe and chopped it in two, the only result was that he ended up with two water-carriers instead of one.

Credulity and scepticism.

The conversation is turning to the subject of oracles when the sceptic can stand it no longer and retires in disgust. As he tells what he has heard to a friend, he remarks upon the childish credulity of “these admired teachers from whom our youth are to learn wisdom.” At the same time, the stories seem to have made a considerable impression even upon him, and he wishes that he had some lethal drug to make him forget all these monsters, demons, and Hecates that he seems still to see before him. His friend, too, declares that he has filled him with demons. Their dialogue then concludes with the consoling reflection that truth and sound reason are the best drugs for the cure of such empty lies.

The conversation shifts to oracles when the skeptic can’t take it anymore and leaves in frustration. As he shares what he’s heard with a friend, he comments on the foolish gullibility of “these respected teachers from whom our youth are supposed to learn wisdom.” At the same time, the stories seem to have left a significant mark on him, and he wishes he had some poison to help him forget all these monsters, demons, and Hecates that he still feels are haunting him. His friend also admits that he’s been filled with demons. Their discussion wraps up with the reassuring thought that truth and clear reasoning are the best remedies for such empty falsehoods.

Menippus, or Necromancy.

Menippus, or Necromancy.

The Menippus or Necromancy, while an obvious imitation and parody of Odysseus’ mode of descent to the underworld to consult Teiresias, also throws some light on the magic of Lucian’s time. In order to reach the other world Menippus went to Babylon and consulted Mithrobarzanes, one of the Magi and followers of Zoroaster. He is also called one of the Chaldeans. Besides a final sacrifice similar to that of Odysseus, the procedure by which the magician procured their passage to the other world included on his part muttered incantations and invocations, for the most part unintelligible to Menippus, spitting thrice in the latter’s face, waving torches about, drawing a magic circle, and wearing a magic robe. As for Menippus, he had to bathe in the Euphrates at sunrise every morning for the full twenty-nine days of a moon, after which he was purified[Pg 282] at midnight in the Tigris and by fumigation. He had to sleep out-of-doors and observe a special diet, not look anyone in the eye on his way home, walk backwards, and so on. The ultimate result of all these preparations was that the earth was burst asunder by the final incantation and the way to the underworld laid open. When it came time to return Menippus crawled up with difficulty, like Dante going from the Inferno to Purgatory, through a narrow tunnel which opened on the shrine of Trophonius.

The Menippus or Necromancy, while clearly a copy and spoof of Odysseus' journey to the underworld to speak with Teiresias, also sheds some light on the magic of Lucian's era. To get to the afterlife, Menippus traveled to Babylon and consulted Mithrobarzanes, one of the Magi and followers of Zoroaster. He’s also referred to as one of the Chaldeans. Besides a final sacrifice similar to what Odysseus did, the magician's method for navigating to the other world involved muttering incantations and invocations, most of which were incomprehensible to Menippus, spitting three times in Menippus' face, waving torches around, drawing a magic circle, and wearing a magic robe. As for Menippus, he had to bathe in the Euphrates at sunrise every day for the entire twenty-nine days of the lunar cycle, after which he was purified at midnight in the Tigris with fumigation. He also had to sleep outside, follow a special diet, avoid making eye contact on his way home, walk backward, and so on. The end result of all these rituals was that the ground split open with the final incantation, revealing the path to the underworld. When it was time to come back, Menippus crawled out with great difficulty, like Dante ascending from the Inferno to Purgatory, through a narrow tunnel leading to the shrine of Trophonius.

Astrological interpretation of Greek myth.

An essay on astrology ascribed to Lucian is usually regarded as spurious.[1282] Denial of its authenticity, however, should rest on such grounds as its literary style and the manuscript history of the work rather than upon its—to modern eyes—superstitious character. In antiquity a man might be sceptical about most superstitions and yet believe in astrology as a science. Lucian’s sceptical friend Celsus, for example, as we shall see in our chapter on Origen’s Reply to Celsus, believed that the future could be foretold from the stars. And whether the present essay is genuine or spurious, it is certainly noteworthy that for all his mockery of other superstition Lucian does not attack astrology in any of his essays. Moreover, this essay on astrology is very sceptical in one way, since it denies the literal truth of various Greek myths and gives an astrological interpretation of them, as in the case of Zeus and Kronos and the so-called adultery of Mars. This is not inconsistent with Lucian’s ridicule elsewhere of the anthropomorphic Olympian divinities. What Orpheus taught the Greeks was astrology, and the planets were signified by the seven strings of his lyre. Teiresias taught them further to distinguish which stars were masculine and which feminine in character and influence. A proper interpretation of the myth of Atreus and Thyestes also shows the Greeks at an early date acquainted with astrological doctrine. Bellerophon soared to the sky, not on a[Pg 283] horse but by the scientific power of his mind. Daedalus taught Icarus astrology and the fable of Phaëthon is to be similarly interpreted. Aeneas was not really the son of the goddess Venus, nor Minos of Jupiter, nor Aesculapius of Mars, nor Autolycus of Mercury. These are to be taken simply as the planets under whose rule they were born. The author also connects Egyptian animal worship with the signs of the zodiac.

An essay on astrology attributed to Lucian is generally considered fake. Denying its authenticity, however, should be based on its writing style and the history of the manuscript rather than its—by modern standards—superstitious nature. In ancient times, a person could be skeptical about most superstitions and still believe in astrology as a science. For example, Lucian’s skeptical friend Celsus, as we will discuss in our chapter on Origen’s Reply to Celsus, believed that the future could be predicted from the stars. Whether this essay is genuine or not, it’s interesting that despite his mockery of other superstitions, Lucian never criticizes astrology in any of his writings. Additionally, this essay on astrology is skeptical in its own way, as it denies the literal truth of various Greek myths and gives them an astrological interpretation, like with Zeus and Kronos and the so-called affair of Mars. This doesn’t contradict Lucian’s ridicule of the anthropomorphic Olympian gods. What Orpheus taught the Greeks was astrology, and the planets were represented by the seven strings of his lyre. Teiresias further instructed them on distinguishing which stars had masculine and feminine characteristics and influences. A proper interpretation of the myth of Atreus and Thyestes also indicates that the Greeks were familiar with astrological doctrine at an early date. Bellerophon didn’t fly to the sky on a horse but through the scientific power of his mind. Daedalus taught Icarus astrology, and the fable of Phaëthon should be understood in a similar way. Aeneas was not truly the son of the goddess Venus, nor was Minos the son of Jupiter, nor Aesculapius of Mars, nor Autolycus of Mercury. These figures should be seen simply as the planets under whose influence they were born. The author also links Egyptian animal worship to the signs of the zodiac.

History and defense of astrology.

The author of the essay also delves into the history of astrology, to which he assigns a high antiquity. The Ethiopians were the first to cultivate it and handed it on in a still imperfect stage to the Egyptians who developed it. The Babylonians claim to have studied it before other peoples, but our author thinks that they did so long after the Ethiopians and Egyptians. The Greeks were instructed in the art neither by the Ethiopians nor the Egyptians, but, as we have seen, by Orpheus. Our author not only states that the ancient Greeks never built towns or walls or got married without first resorting to divination, but even asserts that astrology was their sole method of divination, that the Pythia at Delphi was the type of celestial purity and that the snake under the tripod represented the dragon among the constellations. Lycurgus taught his Lacedaemonians to observe the moon, and only the uncultured Arcadians held themselves aloof from astrology. Yet at the present day some oppose the art, declaring either that the stars have naught to do with human affairs or that astrology is useless since what is fated cannot be avoided. To the latter objection our author makes the usual retort that forewarned is forearmed; as for the former denial, if a horse stirs the stones in the road as it runs, if a passing breath of wind moves straws to and fro, if a tiny flame burns the finger, will not the courses and deflexions of the brilliant celestial bodies have their influence upon earth and mankind?

The author of the essay also explores the history of astrology, which he dates back to ancient times. The Ethiopians were the first to practice it and passed it on, still in an unfinished form, to the Egyptians, who advanced it further. The Babylonians claim to have studied it before others, but our author believes they did so long after the Ethiopians and Egyptians. The Greeks learned the art not from the Ethiopians or Egyptians, but as we've seen, from Orpheus. Our author notes that the ancient Greeks never built towns, walls, or got married without first consulting divination. He even claims that astrology was their only method of divination, that the Pythia at Delphi symbolized celestial purity, and that the snake under the tripod represented the dragon among the constellations. Lycurgus taught his Lacedaemonians to observe the moon, while only the uneducated Arcadians distanced themselves from astrology. Yet today, some argue against the practice, asserting that the stars have nothing to do with human affairs or that astrology is pointless since what's destined cannot be changed. In response to the latter, our author offers the usual counter that forewarned is forearmed. As for the former claim, if a horse kicks stones as it runs, if a gust of wind shifts straws, and if a tiny flame burns a finger, then won't the movements and shifts of the brilliant celestial bodies have an impact on Earth and humanity?

Lucian not always sceptical.

The manner of the essay does not seem like Lucian’s usual style, and the astrological interpretation of religious myth was characteristic of the Stoic philosophy, whereas[Pg 284] Lucian’s philosophical affinities, if he can be said to have any, are perhaps rather with the Epicureans. But Celsus was an Epicurean and yet believed in astrology. It must not be thought, however, that Lucian in his other essays is always sceptical in regard to what we should classify as superstition. He tells us how his career was determined by a dream in the autobiographical essay of that title. In the Dialogues of the Gods magic is mentioned as a matter-of-course, Zeus complaining that he has to resort to magic in order to win women and Athene warning Paris to have Aphrodite remove her girdle, since it is drugged or enchanted and may bewitch him.

The style of the essay doesn't seem like Lucian’s typical approach, and the astrological interpretation of religious myths is a hallmark of Stoic philosophy, while Lucian’s philosophical leanings, if he has any, may align more with the Epicureans. But Celsus was an Epicurean and still believed in astrology. It shouldn’t be assumed, though, that Lucian is always skeptical about what we consider superstition in his other essays. He shares how his career was shaped by a dream in the autobiographical essay of that title. In the Dialogues of the Gods, magic is referred to casually, with Zeus complaining that he has to use magic to attract women, and Athene warning Paris to have Aphrodite remove her girdle, since it's drugged or enchanted and could mesmerize him.

Lucian and medicine.

The writings of Lucian contain many allusions to the doctors, diseases, and medicines of his time.[1283] On the whole he confirms Galen’s picture. Numerous passages show that the medical profession was held in high esteem, and Lucian himself first went to Rome in order to consult an oculist. At the same time Lucian satirizes the quacks and medical superstition of the time, as we have already seen, and describes several statues which were believed to possess healing powers. In the burlesque tragedy on gout, Tragodopodagra, whose authenticity, however, is questioned, the disease personified is triumphant, and the moral seems to be that all the remedies which men have tried are of no avail. On the other hand, Lucian wrote seriously of the African snake whose bite causes one to die of thirst (De dipsadibus). He admits that he has never seen anyone in this condition and has not even been in Libya where these snakes are found, but a friend has assured him that he has seen the tombstone epitaph of a man who had died thus, a rather indirect mode of proof which we are surprised should satisfy the author of How to Write History. Lucian also repeats the common notion that persons bitten by a mad dog can be cured only by a hair or other portion of the same animal.[1284]

The writings of Lucian contain many references to the doctors, diseases, and medicines of his time.[1283] Overall, he supports Galen’s depiction. Many passages show that the medical profession was highly respected, and Lucian himself went to Rome to see an eye doctor. At the same time, Lucian mocks the frauds and medical superstitions of the era, as we have already noted, and describes several statues that were believed to have healing powers. In the comedic tragedy about gout, Tragodopodagra, which is questioned for its authenticity, the disease personified is victorious, and the moral seems to be that all the remedies people have tried are useless. On the flip side, Lucian wrote seriously about the African snake whose bite causes one to die of thirst (De dipsadibus). He admits that he has never seen anyone in this condition and hasn’t even been to Libya, where these snakes are found, but a friend told him he had seen the tombstone of a man who died this way, which is a rather indirect way of proving it that we’re surprised would satisfy the author of How to Write History. Lucian also repeats the common belief that people bitten by a rabid dog can only be cured by a hair or another part of the same animal.[1284]

[Pg 285]

[Pg 285]

Inevitable intermingling of scepticism and superstition.

Our chapter which set out to note cases of scepticism in regard to superstition has ended by including a great deal of such superstition. The sceptics themselves seem credulous on some points, and Lucian’s satire perhaps more reveals than refutes the prevalence of superstition among even the highly educated. The same is true of other literary satirists of the Roman Empire whose jibes against the astrologers and their devotees only attest the popularity of the art and who themselves very probably meant only to ridicule its more extreme pretensions and were perhaps at bottom themselves believers in the fundamentals of the art. Our authors to some extent, as we have pointed out, provided an arsenal of arguments from which later Christian writers took weapons for their assaults upon pagan magic and astrology. But sometimes subsequent writers confused scepticism with credulity, and the influence of our authors upon them became just the opposite of what they intended. Thus Ammianus Marcellinus, the soldier-historian of the falling Roman Empire upon whom Gibbon placed so much reliance, was so attached to divination that he even quoted its arch-opponent, Cicero, in support of it. For he actually concludes his discussion of the subject in these words: “Wherefore in this as in other matters Tully says most admirably,‘Signs of future events are shown by the gods.’”[1285]

Our chapter, which aimed to highlight instances of skepticism regarding superstition, has ended up including quite a bit of superstition itself. The skeptics seem to believe in some things, and Lucian’s satire often shows more about the prevalence of superstition among even the well-educated than it refutes. This also holds true for other literary satirists of the Roman Empire, whose criticisms of astrologers and their followers actually confirm the popularity of astrology. They likely only intended to mock the more extreme claims and may themselves have had some belief in the basics of the practice. Our authors, as we noted, provided a range of arguments that later Christian writers used as tools to attack pagan magic and astrology. However, sometimes subsequent writers mixed up skepticism with gullibility, causing the influence of our authors on them to turn into the opposite of what they intended. For instance, Ammianus Marcellinus, the soldier-historian of the declining Roman Empire, whom Gibbon trusted greatly, was so devoted to divination that he even cited its main critic, Cicero, in its favor. He actually ends his discussion on the topic with these words: “Therefore, in this as in other matters, Tully says most admirably, ‘Signs of future events are shown by the gods.’”[1285]

Lucian on writing history.

But in order to conclude our chapter on scepticism with a less obscurantist passage, let us return to Lucian. His essay, How to Write History, gives serious expression to those ideals of truth and impartiality which also lie behind his mockery of impostors and the over-credulous. “The historian’s one task,” in his estimation, “is to tell the thing as it happened.” He should be “fearless, incorruptible, independent, a believer in frankness, ... an impartial judge, kind to all but too kind to none.” “He has to make of his brain a mirror, unclouded, bright, and true of surface.” “Facts are not to be collected at haphazard but with careful,[Pg 286] laborious, repeated investigation.” “Prefer the disinterested account.”[1286] Such sentences and phrases as these reveal a scientific and critical spirit of high order and seem a vast improvement upon the frailty of Cicero’s historical criticism. But how far Lucian would have been able to follow his own advice is perhaps another matter.

But to wrap up our chapter on skepticism with a clearer note, let’s go back to Lucian. His essay, How to Write History, seriously expresses the ideals of truth and impartiality that also underlie his mockery of frauds and the gullible. “The historian’s main job,” in his view, “is to present events as they occurred.” He should be “fearless, incorruptible, independent, a believer in honesty, ... an impartial judge, kind to all but overly kind to none.” “He must make his brain a mirror, clear, bright, and true.” “Facts should not be gathered randomly but through careful, labor-intensive, repeated investigation.” “Choose the unbiased account.”[1286] These sentences and phrases showcase a high level of scientific and critical spirit and seem to significantly improve upon the weaknesses of Cicero’s historical criticism. However, how far Lucian could have been able to adhere to his own advice is a different story.


[Pg 287]

[Pg 287]

CHAPTER X
THE SPURIOUS MYSTIC WRITINGS OF HERMES, ORPHEUS, AND ZOROASTER

Mystic works of revelation—The Hermetic books—Poimandres and the Hermetic Corpus—Astrological treatises ascribed to Hermes—Hermetic works of alchemy—Nechepso and Petosiris—Manetho—The Lithica of Orpheus—Argument of the poem—Magic powers of stones—Magic rites to gain powers of divination—Power of gems compared with herbs—Magic herbs and demons in Orphic rites—Books ascribed to Zoroaster—The Chaldean Oracles.

Mystic works of revelation—The Hermetic books—Poimandres and the Hermetic Corpus—Astrological writings attributed to Hermes—Hermetic works on alchemy—Nechepso and Petosiris—Manetho—The Lithica of Orpheus—Summary of the poem—Magical properties of stones—Rituals to gain divination powers—The power of gems compared to herbs—Magical herbs and spirits in Orphic rituals—Books attributed to Zoroaster—The Chaldean Oracles.

Mystic works of revelation.

There were in circulation in the Roman Empire many writings which purported to be of divine origin and authorship, or at least the work of ancient culture-heroes and founders of religions who were of divine descent and divinely inspired. These oracular and mystic compositions usually pretend to great antiquity and often claim as their home such hoary lands as Egypt and Chaldea, although in the Hellenic past Apollo and in the Roman past the Sibylline books[1287] also afford convenient centers about which forgeries cluster. Assuming as these writings do to disclose the secrets of ancient priesthoods and to publish what should not be revealed to the vulgar crowd, they may be confidently expected to embody a great deal of superstition and magic along with their expositions of mystic theologies. Also the authors, editors, or publishers of astrological, alchemistic, and other pseudo-scientific treatises could not be expected to resist the temptation of claiming a venerable and cryptic origin for some of their books. Moreover, such pseudo-literature was not entirely unjustified in its affirmation of high antiquity. Few things in intellectual history antedate magic, and these spurious compositions are not especially[Pg 288] distinguished by new ideas, although they to some extent reflect the progress made in learning, occult as well as scientific, in the Hellenistic age. It must be added that much of their contents depends for its effect entirely upon its claim to eminent authorship and great antiquity and upon the impressionability of its public. To-day most of it seems trivial commonplace or marked by the empty vagueness characteristic of oracular utterances. I shall attempt no complete exposition or exhaustive treatment of such writings[1288] but touch upon a few examples which bear upon the relations of science and magic.

There were many writings circulating in the Roman Empire that claimed to be divinely inspired or at least authored by ancient culture heroes and founders of religions believed to have divine origins. These mystical and prophetic texts often pretended to be very old and commonly claimed their origins from ancient places like Egypt and Chaldea, though in Greece, Apollo and in Rome, the Sibylline books[1287] served as convenient focal points around which forgeries gathered. Since these writings claim to reveal the secrets of ancient priesthoods and disclose information meant to remain hidden from the general public, they likely include a lot of superstition and magic alongside their interpretations of mystical theologies. Additionally, the authors, editors, or publishers of astrological, alchemical, and other pseudo-scientific works often succumbed to the temptation to assert that some of their books had an ancient and mysterious origin. Moreover, this pseudo-literature wasn’t entirely wrong in claiming high antiquity. Few aspects of intellectual history predate magic, and these questionable texts aren't particularly known for presenting new ideas, though they somewhat reflect the learning advancements—both occult and scientific—made during the Hellenistic period. It should be noted that much of their content relies on its assertion of distinguished authorship and great age, as well as the suggestibility of its audience. Today, most of it seems trivial and overly familiar or characterized by the vague generalities typical of prophetic statements. I won’t attempt a comprehensive discussion or detailed analysis of these writings[1288] but will highlight a few examples that are relevant to the relationship between science and magic.

The Hermetic books.

Chief among these are the Hermetic books or writings attributed to Hermes the Egyptian or Trismegistus. “Under this name,” wrote Steinschneider in 1906, “there exists in many languages a literature, for the most part superstitious, which seems to have not yet been treated in its totality.”[1289] The Egyptian god Thoth or Tehuti, known in Greek as Θωύθ, Θώθ, and Τάτ, was identified with Hermes, and the epithet “thrice-great” is also derived from the Egyptian aā aā, “the great Great.” Citations of works ascribed to this Hermes Trismegistus can be traced back as early as the first century of our era.[1290] He is also mentioned or quoted by various church fathers from Athenagoras to Augustine and often figures in the magical papyri. The historian Ammianus Marcellinus[1291] in the fourth century ranks him with the great sages of the past such as Pythagoras, Socrates, and Apollonius of Tyana. Our two chief descriptions of the Hermetic books from the period of the Roman Empire are found in the Stromata[1292] of the Christian Clement of Alexandria (c.150-c.220 A.D.) and in the De mysteriis[1293] ascribed to the Neo-Platonist Iamblichus (died about 330[Pg 289] A. D.). Clement speaks of forty-two books by Hermes which are regarded as “indispensable.” Of these ten are called “Hieratic” and deal with the laws, the gods, and the training of the priests. Ten others detail the sacrifices, prayers, processions, festivals, and other rites of Egyptian worship. Two contain hymns to the gods and rules for the king. Six are medical, “treating of the structure of the body and of diseases and instruments and medicines and about the eyes and the last about women.” Four are astronomical or astrological, and the remaining ten deal with cosmography and geography or with the equipment of the priests and the paraphernalia of the sacred rites. Clement does not say so, but from his brief summary one can imagine how full these volumes probably were of occult virtues of natural substances, of magical procedure, and of intimate relations and interactions between nature, stars, and spirits. Iamblichus repeats the statement of Seleucus that Hermes wrote twenty thousand volumes and the assertion of Manetho that there were 36,525 books, a number doubtless connected with the supposed length of the year, three hundred and sixty-five and one-quarter days.[1294] Iamblichus adds that Hermes wrote one hundred treatises on the ethereal gods and one thousand concerning the celestial gods.[1295] He is aware, however, that most books attributed to Hermes were not really composed by him, since in other passages he speaks of “the books which are circulated under the name of Hermes,”[1296] and explains that “our ancestors ... inscribed all their own writings with the name of Hermes,”[1297] thus dedicating them to him as the patron deity of language and theology. By the time of Iamblichus these books had been translated from the Egyptian tongue into Greek.

Chief among these are the Hermetic books or writings attributed to Hermes the Egyptian or Trismegistus. “Under this name,” wrote Steinschneider in 1906, “there exists in many languages a literature, mostly superstitious, that seems to have not yet been fully explored.”[1289] The Egyptian god Thoth or Tehuti, known in Greek as Θωύθ, Θώθ, and Τάτ, was associated with Hermes, and the term “thrice-great” is also derived from the Egyptian aā aā, “the great Great.” References to works attributed to this Hermes Trismegistus can be traced back as early as the first century A.D.[1290] He is also mentioned or quoted by various church fathers from Athenagoras to Augustine and often appears in the magical papyri. The historian Ammianus Marcellinus[1291] in the fourth century ranks him with the great thinkers of the past like Pythagoras, Socrates, and Apollonius of Tyana. Our two main descriptions of the Hermetic books from the time of the Roman Empire are found in the Stromata[1292] by the Christian Clement of Alexandria (c.150-c.220 A.D.) and in the De mysteriis[1293] attributed to the Neo-Platonist Iamblichus (who died around 330 A.D.). Clement mentions forty-two books by Hermes that are considered “indispensable.” Of these, ten are called “Hieratic” and discuss the laws, the gods, and the training of the priests. Ten others focus on the sacrifices, prayers, processions, festivals, and other rites of Egyptian worship. Two contain hymns to the gods and rules for the king. Six are medical, “covering the structure of the body and diseases, instruments, medications, and related to the eyes and the last concerning women.” Four are astronomical or astrological, and the remaining ten deal with cosmography, geography, or with the equipment of the priests and the tools of the sacred rites. Clement doesn’t directly say it, but from his brief summary, one can imagine how packed these volumes likely were with the mystical properties of natural substances, magical practices, and deep connections and interactions between nature, stars, and spirits. Iamblichus restates Seleucus’s claim that Hermes authored twenty thousand volumes and Manetho’s assertion that there were 36,525 books, a number likely tied to the presumed length of the year, three hundred sixty-five and a quarter days.[1294] Iamblichus adds that Hermes wrote one hundred treatises on the ethereal gods and one thousand concerning the celestial gods.[1295] However, he recognizes that most books attributed to Hermes were not genuinely written by him, as in other sections he refers to “the books circulated under the name of Hermes,”[1296] and explains that “our ancestors ... labeled all their own writings with the name of Hermes,”[1297] dedicating them to him as the patron deity of language and theology. By Iamblichus's time, these books had been translated from Egyptian into Greek.

Poimandres and the Hermetic Corpus.

There has come down to us under the name of Hermes a collection of seventeen or eighteen fragments which is generally known as the Hermetic Corpus. Of the frag[Pg 290]ments the first and chief is entitled Poimandres (Ποιμάνδρης), a name which is sometimes applied to the entire Corpus. Another fragment entitled Asclepius, since it is in the form of a dialogue between him and “Mercurius Trismegistus,” exists in a Latin form which has been ascribed probably incorrectly to Apuleius of Madaura as translator (Asclepius ... Mercurii trismegisti dialogus Lucio Apuleio Madaurensi philosopho Platonico interprete). None of the Greek manuscripts of the Corpus seems older than the fourteenth century, although Reitzenstein thinks that they may all be derived from the version which Michael Psellus had before him in the eleventh century.[1298] But the concluding prayer of the Poimandres exists in a third century papyrus, and the alchemist Zosimus in the fourth century seems acquainted with the entire collection. The treatises in this Corpus are concerned primarily with religious philosophy or theosophy, with doctrines similar to those of Plato concerning the soul and to the teachings of the Gnostics. The moral and religious instruction is associated, however, with a physics and cosmology very favorable to astrology and magic. Of magic in the narrow sense there is little in the Corpus, but a Hermetic fragment preserved by Stobaeus affirms that “philosophy and magic nourish the soul.” Astrology plays a much more prominent part, and the stars are ranked as visible gods, of whom the sun is by far the greatest. All seven planets nevertheless control the changes in the world of nature; there are seven human types corresponding to them; and the twelve signs of the zodiac also govern the human body. Only the chosen few who possess gnosis or are capable of receiving nous can escape the decrees of fate as administered by the stars and ultimately return to the spiritual world, passing through “choruses of demons” and “courses of stars” and reaching the Ogdoad or eighth heaven above and beyond the spheres of the seven planets.[1299] Such[Pg 291] Gnostic cosmology and demonology, especially the location of demons amid the planetary spheres, provides favorable ground for the development of astrological necromancy.

There’s a collection of seventeen or eighteen fragments known as the Hermetic Corpus, attributed to Hermes. The most important of these fragments is called Poimandres (Ποιμάνδρης), a title that can also refer to the whole Corpus. Another fragment is titled Asclepius, which takes the form of a dialogue between him and “Mercurius Trismegistus.” This exists in a Latin version that is probably incorrectly attributed to Apuleius of Madaura as the translator (Asclepius ... Mercurii trismegisti dialogus Lucio Apuleio Madaurensi philosophico Platonico interprete). None of the Greek manuscripts of the Corpus appears to be older than the fourteenth century, although Reitzenstein believes they may all come from the version that Michael Psellus had in the eleventh century.[1298] However, the closing prayer of the Poimandres can be found in a third-century papyrus, and the alchemist Zosimus in the fourth century seems to have been familiar with the entire collection. The writings in this Corpus primarily focus on religious philosophy or theosophy, presenting ideas similar to those of Plato about the soul and the teachings of the Gnostics. This moral and religious guidance is mixed with a physics and cosmology that strongly favors astrology and magic. While there is little about magic in the strict sense in the Corpus, a Hermetic fragment preserved by Stobaeus states that “philosophy and magic nourish the soul.” Astrology plays a much larger role, ranking the stars as visible gods, with the sun being the most significant. All seven planets influence changes in the natural world; there are seven human types that correspond to them; and the twelve zodiac signs also govern the human body. Only a select few who possess gnosis or can receive nous can escape the fate determined by the stars and eventually return to the spiritual realm, passing through “choruses of demons” and “courses of stars” before reaching the Ogdoad or eighth heaven above and beyond the spheres of the seven planets.[1299] This Gnostic cosmology and demonology, especially regarding the placement of demons among the planetary spheres, lays a solid foundation for the development of astrological necromancy.

Astrological treatises ascribed to Hermes.

Not only is a belief in astrology implied throughout the Poimandres, but a number of separate astrological treatises are extant in whole or part under the name of Hermes Trismegistus,[1300] and he is frequently cited as an authority in other Greek astrological manuscripts.[1301] The treatises attributed to him comprise one upon general method,[1302] one on the names and powers of the twelve signs, one on astrological medicine addressed to Ammon the Egyptian,[1303] one on thunder and lightning, and some hexameters on the relation of earthquakes to the signs of the zodiac. This last is also ascribed to Orpheus.[1304] There are various allusions to and versions of tracts concerning the relation of herbs to the planets or signs of the zodiac or thirty-six decans.[1305] These treatises attribute magic virtues to plants, include a prayer to be repeated when plucking each herb, and tell how to use the[Pg 292] astrological figures of the decans, engraved on stones, as healing amulets.

Not only is a belief in astrology referenced throughout the Poimandres, but several separate astrological writings exist in whole or in part under the name of Hermes Trismegistus,[1300] and he is often cited as an authority in other Greek astrological texts.[1301] The writings attributed to him include one on general methods,[1302] one on the names and powers of the twelve signs, one on astrological medicine addressed to Ammon the Egyptian,[1303] one on thunder and lightning, and some hexameters on the connection between earthquakes and the zodiac signs. This last work is also attributed to Orpheus.[1304] There are various references and versions of tracts discussing the relationship between herbs and the planets or signs of the zodiac or the thirty-six decans.[1305] These writings ascribe magical properties to plants, include a prayer to recite when picking each herb, and explain how to use the[Pg 292] astrological figures of the decans, engraved on stones, as healing amulets.

Hermetic works of alchemy.

Works under the name of Hermes Trismegistus are cited by Greek alchemists of the closing Roman Empire, such as Zosimus, Stephanus, and Olympiodorus, but those Hermetic treatises of alchemy which are extant are of late date and much altered.[1306] Some treatises are preserved only in Arabic; others are medieval Latin fabrications. The Greek alchemists, however, seem to have recited the mystic hymn of Hermes from the Poimandres.[1307]

Works attributed to Hermes Trismegistus are referenced by Greek alchemists during the late Roman Empire, like Zosimus, Stephanus, and Olympiodorus, but the Hermetic texts on alchemy that still exist are much later and significantly altered.[1306] Some texts are only preserved in Arabic, while others are medieval Latin creations. However, it seems that the Greek alchemists recited the mystical hymn of Hermes from the Poimandres.[1307]

Nechepso and Petosiris.

Hellenistic and Roman astrology sought to extend its roots far back into Egyptian antiquity by putting forth spurious treatises under the names, not only of Hermes Trismegistus, but also of Nechepso and Petosiris,[1308] who were regarded respectively as an Egyptian king and an Egyptian priest who had lived at least seven centuries before Christ. Indeed, they were held to be the recipients of divine revelation from Hermes and Asclepius. A lengthy astrological treatise, which Pliny[1309] is the first to cite and from a fourteenth book of which Galen[1310] mentions a magic ring of jasper engraved with a dragon and rays, seems to have appeared in their names probably at Alexandria in the Hellenistic period. Only fragments and citations ascribed to Nechepso and Petosiris are now extant.[1311]

Hellenistic and Roman astrology tried to trace its origins back to ancient Egypt by publishing fake writings under the names of not just Hermes Trismegistus, but also Nechepso and Petosiris, who were considered an Egyptian king and an Egyptian priest that lived at least seven centuries before Christ. They were believed to have received divine insights from Hermes and Asclepius. A long astrological text, which Pliny is the first to mention, and from the fourteenth book of which Galen talks about a magic jasper ring engraved with a dragon and rays, likely surfaced in their names, probably in Alexandria during the Hellenistic period. Only fragments and quotes attributed to Nechepso and Petosiris survive today.

Manetho.

Yet another astrological work which claims to be drawn from the secret sacred books and cryptic monuments of ancient Egypt is ascribed to Manetho. It is a compilation[Pg 293] in verse of prognostications from the various constellations and is regarded as the work of several writers, of whom the oldest is placed in the reign of Alexander Severus in the third century.[1312]

Yet another astrology book that claims to be based on the secret sacred texts and mysterious stones of ancient Egypt is attributed to Manetho. It’s a compilation[Pg 293] in verse of predictions from the different constellations and is considered to be the work of multiple authors, with the earliest dating back to the reign of Alexander Severus in the third century.[1312]

The Lithica of Orpheus.

Orpheus is another author more cited than preserved by classical antiquity. Pliny called him the first writer on herbs and suspected him of magic. Ernest Riess affirms that Rohde (Psyche, p. 398) “has abundantly proved that Orpheus’ followers were among the chief promulgators of purifications and charms against evil spirits.”[1313] Among poems of some length extant under Orpheus’ name the one of most interest to us is the Lithica, where in 770 lines the virtues of some thirty gems are set forth with considerable allusion to magic.[1314] The authorship is uncertain, but the verse is supposed to follow the prose treatise by Damigeron who lived in the second century B. C. The date of the poem is now generally fixed in the fourth century of our era, although King[1315] argued for an earlier date. I agree with him that the allusion in lines 71-74 to decapitation on the charge of magic is, taken alone, too vague and blind to be associated with any particular event or time; editors since Tyrwhitt have connected it with the law of Constantius against magic and the persecution of magicians in 371 A. D. But King’s contention that the Lithica is by the same author as the Argonautica, also ascribed to Orpheus, and is therefore of early date, falls to the ground since the Argonautica, too, is now dated in the fourth century.

Orpheus is another writer who is more often referenced than actually preserved from classical times. Pliny called him the first author on herbs and suspected he was involved in magic. Ernest Riess states that Rohde (Psyche, p. 398) “has abundantly proven that Orpheus’ followers were among the main promoters of purifications and charms against evil spirits.”[1313] Among the longer poems attributed to Orpheus, the one most relevant to us is the Lithica, which outlines the properties of about thirty gems in 770 lines, with significant references to magic.[1314] The authorship is uncertain, but it's thought that the poem is based on a prose treatise by Damigeron, who lived in the second century B.C. The poem is now generally believed to have been written in the fourth century of our era, although King[1315] argued for an earlier date. I agree with him that the reference in lines 71-74 to decapitation on a magic charge is, when viewed in isolation, too vague to connect to any specific event or time; since Tyrwhitt, editors have linked it to Constantius' law against magic and the persecution of magicians in 371 A.D. However, King's argument that the Lithica is by the same author as the Argonautica, also attributed to Orpheus, and is therefore from an earlier date, fails because the Argonautica is now also dated to the fourth century.

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Argument of the poem.

The Lithica opens by representing Hermes as bestowing upon mankind the precious lore of the marvelous virtues of gems. In his cave are stored stones which banish ghosts, robbers, and snakes, which bring health, happiness, victory in war and games, honor at courts and success in love, and which insure safety on journeys, the favor of the gods, and enable one to read the hidden thoughts of others and to understand the language of the birds as they predict the future. Few persons, however, avail themselves of this mystic lore, and those who do so are liable to be executed on the charge of magic. After this introduction, which may be regarded as a piquant appetizer to whet the reader’s taste for further details, the virtues of individual stones are described, first in the words of Theodamas, a wise and divine man[1316] whom the author meets on his way to perform annual sacrifice at an altar of the Sun, where as a child he narrowly escaped from a deadly snake, and then in a speech of the seer Helenus to Philoctetes which Theodamas quotes. Greek gods are often mentioned; as the poem proceeds the virtues of a number of gems are attributed to Apollo rather than Hermes; and there are allusions to Greek mythology and the Trojan war. Some gems are found in animals, for instance, in the viper or the brain of the stag.

The Lithica starts by showing Hermes giving humanity the valuable knowledge of the amazing powers of gems. In his cave, there are stones that drive away ghosts, robbers, and snakes, bringing health, happiness, victory in battles and games, honor in courts, and success in love. They also ensure safety during trips, win the favor of the gods, allow one to read the hidden thoughts of others, and understand the language of birds predicting the future. However, few people take advantage of this mystical knowledge, and those who do risk being executed for practicing magic. After this introduction, which serves as an enticing teaser to engage the reader’s interest for more details, the properties of individual stones are explained, first through the words of Theodamas, a wise and divine man[1316] whom the author meets while on his way to make an annual sacrifice at a Sun altar, where as a child he nearly escaped from a deadly snake, and then in a speech from the seer Helenus to Philoctetes that Theodamas quotes. Greek gods are frequently mentioned; as the poem continues, several gems are credited to Apollo instead of Hermes, along with references to Greek mythology and the Trojan War. Some gems are found within animals, for example, in the viper or the brain of a stag.

Magic powers of stones.

Let us turn to some examples of the marvelous virtues of particular stones. The crystal wins favorable answers from the gods to prayers; kindles fire, if held over sticks, yet itself remains cold; as a ligature benefits kidney trouble. Sacrifices in which the adamant is employed win the favor of the gods; it is also called Lethaean because it makes one forget worries, or the milk-stone (galactis) because it renews the milk of sheep or goats when powdered in brine and sprinkled over them. Worn as an amulet it counteracts the evil eye and gains royal favor for its bearer. The agate is an agricultural amulet and should be attached to the plowman’s arm and the horns of the oxen. Other stones help vineyards, bring rain or avert hail and pests from the crops.[Pg 295] Lychnis prevents a pot from boiling on a fire and makes it boil when the fire is dead. The magnet was used by the witches Circe and Medea in their spells; an unchaste wife is unable to remain in the bed where this stone has been placed with an incantation. Other stones cure snake-bite and various diseases, serve as love-charms or aids in child-birth, or counteract incantations and enchantments.

Let’s look at some examples of the amazing qualities of certain stones. The crystal brings positive responses from the gods to prayers; it can start a fire when held over sticks, but it stays cool itself; it also helps with kidney issues. Sacrifices that use adamant gain the gods' favor; it’s known as Lethaean because it helps one forget troubles, or the milk-stone (galactis) because it refreshes the milk of sheep or goats when ground in brine and sprinkled on them. Worn as an amulet, it protects against the evil eye and earns royal favor for its wearer. The agate is a farming charm and should be attached to the plowman’s arm and the oxen’s horns. Other stones assist vineyards, bring rain, or protect crops from hail and pests.[Pg 295] Lychnis stops a pot from boiling over and makes it boil when the fire goes out. Witches like Circe and Medea used magnets in their spells; an unfaithful wife can't stay in the bed where this stone has been placed with a chant. Other stones can heal snake bites and various illnesses, act as love charms, assist in childbirth, or counteract spells and enchantments.

Magic rites to gain powers of divination.

To make the gem sideritis or oreites utter vocal oracles the operator must abstain for three weeks from animal food, the public baths, and the marriage bed; he is then to wash and clothe the gem like an infant and employ various sacrifices, incantations, and illuminations. The gem Liparaios, known to the learned Magi of Assyria, when burnt on a bloodless altar with hymns to the Sun and Earth attracts snakes from their holes to the flame. Three youths robed in white and carrying two-edged swords should cut up the snake who comes nearest the fire into nine pieces, three for the Sun, three for the earth, three for the wise and prophetic maiden. These pieces are then to be cooked with wine, salt, and spices and eaten by those who wish to learn the language of birds and beasts. But further the gods must be invoked by their secret names and libations poured of milk, wine, oil, and honey. What is not eaten must be buried, and the participants in the feast are then to return home wearing chaplets but otherwise naked and speaking to no one whom they may meet. On their arrival home they are to sacrifice mixed spices. It will be recalled that Apollonius of Tyana and the Arabs also learned the language of the birds by eating snake-flesh.

To make the gem sideritis or oreites deliver vocal oracles, the operator must avoid animal food, public baths, and sexual relations for three weeks. After that, they should wash and dress the gem like a baby and perform various sacrifices, spells, and rituals. The gem Liparaios, known to the wise Magi of Assyria, when burned on a bloodless altar with hymns to the Sun and Earth, draws snakes out of their hiding places toward the flame. Three young men dressed in white and wielding double-edged swords should cut the nearest snake to the fire into nine pieces: three for the Sun, three for the Earth, and three for the wise and prophetic maiden. These pieces are then cooked with wine, salt, and spices and consumed by those who want to understand the language of birds and beasts. Additionally, the gods must be called upon using their secret names, and offerings should be made with milk, wine, oil, and honey. What isn’t eaten should be buried, and the participants in the feast should return home wearing garlands but otherwise naked and not speaking to anyone they encounter. Upon returning home, they must sacrifice mixed spices. It's worth noting that Apollonius of Tyana and the Arabs also learned the language of the birds by consuming snake flesh.

Powers of gems compared with herbs.

Thus gems are potent in religion and divination, love-charms and child-birth, medicine and agriculture. The poem fails, however, to touch upon their uses in alchemy or relations to the stars, nor does it contain much of anything that can be called necromancy. But the author ranks the virtues of stones above those of herbs, whose powers disappear with age. Moreover, some plants are injurious, whereas the marvelous virtues of stones are almost all beneficial as well as[Pg 296] permanent. “There is great force in herbs,” he says, “but far greater in stones,”[1317] an observation often repeated in the middle ages.

Thus, gems are powerful in religion and divination, love spells and childbirth, medicine and farming. The poem, however, doesn't mention their uses in alchemy or their connections to the stars, nor does it include much related to necromancy. But the author places the virtues of stones above those of herbs, which lose their powers over time. Additionally, some plants can be harmful, while the wonderful qualities of stones are mostly beneficial and long-lasting. “Herbs have great power,” he states, “but stones have far greater power,” an observation often echoed in the Middle Ages. [Pg 296] [1317]

Magic herbs and demons in Orphic rites.

More stress is laid upon the power of demons and herbs in a description which has been left us by Saint Cyprian,[1318] bishop of Antioch in the third century, of some pagan mysteries upon Mount Olympus into which he was initiated when a boy of fifteen and which have been explained as Orphic rites. His initiation was under the charge of seven hierophants, lasted for forty days, and included instruction in the virtues of magic herbs and visions of the operations of demons. He was also taught the meaning of musical notes and harmonies, and saw how times and seasons were governed by good and evil spirits. In short, magic, pseudo-science, occult virtue, and perhaps astrology formed an important part of Orphic lore.

More emphasis is placed on the power of demons and herbs in a description left to us by Saint Cyprian, bishop of Antioch in the third century, regarding some pagan mysteries on Mount Olympus that he was initiated into at the age of fifteen, which have been explained as Orphic rites. His initiation was overseen by seven hierophants, lasted for forty days, and included teachings on the properties of magical herbs and visions of the workings of demons. He also learned about musical notes and harmonies and witnessed how times and seasons were influenced by good and evil spirits. In summary, magic, pseudo-science, occult knowledge, and possibly astrology were significant aspects of Orphic traditions.

Books ascribed to Zoroaster.

Cumont states in his Oriental Religions in Roman Paganism that “towards the end of the Alexandrine period the books ascribed to the half-mythical masters of the Persian science, Zoroaster, Hosthanes and Hystaspes, were translated into Greek, and until the end of paganism those names enjoyed a prodigious authority.”[1319] Pliny regarded Zoroaster as the founder of magic and we have met other examples of his reputation as a magician. Later we shall find him cited several times in the Byzantine Geoponica which seems to use a book ascribed to him on the sympathy and antipathy existing between natural objects.[1320] Naturally a number of pseudo-Zoroastrian books were in circulation, some of which Porphyry, the Neo-Platonist, is said to have suppressed. At least he tells us in his Life of Plotinus[1321] that certain Christians and other men[Pg 297] claimed to possess certain revelations of Zoroaster, but that he advanced many arguments to show that their book was not written by Zoroaster but was a recent composition.

Cumont states in his Oriental Religions in Roman Paganism that “towards the end of the Alexandrine period, the books attributed to the semi-mythical masters of Persian science, Zoroaster, Hosthanes, and Hystaspes, were translated into Greek, and until the end of paganism, those names held immense authority.”[1319] Pliny viewed Zoroaster as the founder of magic, and we have seen other instances of his reputation as a magician. Later, we'll find him referenced several times in the Byzantine Geoponica, which seems to refer to a book attributed to him on the relationships of sympathy and antipathy among natural objects.[1320] Naturally, a number of pseudo-Zoroastrian books were in circulation, some of which Porphyry, the Neo-Platonist, is said to have suppressed. At least he tells us in his Life of Plotinus[1321] that certain Christians and others claimed to have certain revelations from Zoroaster, but he presented many arguments to show that their book was not actually written by Zoroaster but was a recent creation.

The Chaldean Oracles.

There has been preserved, however, in the writings of the Neo-Platonists a collection of passages known as the Zoroastrian Logia or Chaldean Oracles[1322] and which “present ... a heterogeneous mass, now obscure and again bombastic, of commingled Platonic, Pythagorean, Stoic, Gnostic, and Persian tenets.”[1323] Not only are these often cited by the Neo-Platonists, but Porphyry, Iamblichus, and Proclus composed commentaries upon them.[1324] Some think that these citations and commentaries have reference to a single work put together by Julian the Chaldean in the period of the Antonines. This “mass of oriental superstitions, a medley of magic, theurgy, and delirious metaphysics,”[1325] was reverenced by the Neo-Platonists of the following centuries as a sacred authority equal to the Timaeus of Plato. Our next chapter will therefore deal with the writings of the Neo-Platonists upon whom this spurious mystic literature had so much influence.

There is, however, a collection of passages preserved in the writings of the Neo-Platonists known as the Zoroastrian Logia or Chaldean Oracles[1322], which “present ... a mixed bag, sometimes unclear and other times overly grand, of intertwined Platonic, Pythagorean, Stoic, Gnostic, and Persian ideas.”[1323] These are frequently cited by the Neo-Platonists, and Porphyry, Iamblichus, and Proclus wrote commentaries on them.[1324] Some believe these citations and commentaries refer to a single work compiled by Julian the Chaldean during the time of the Antonines. This “collection of eastern beliefs, a jumble of magic, theurgy, and chaotic metaphysics,”[1325] was regarded by the Neo-Platonists of later centuries as a sacred authority, comparable to Plato's Timaeus. Our next chapter will therefore explore the writings of the Neo-Platonists who were greatly influenced by this dubious mystical literature.


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CHAPTER XI
NEO-PLATONISM AND ITS RELATIONS TO ASTROLOGY AND THEURGY

Neo-Platonism and the occult—Plotinus on magic—The life of reason is alone free from magic—Plotinus unharmed by magic—Invoking the demon of Plotinus—Rite of strangling birds—Plotinus and astrology—The stars as signs—The divine star-souls—How do the stars cause and signify?—Other causes and signs than the stars—Stars not the cause of evil—Against the astrology of the Gnostics—Fate and free-will—Summary of the attitude of Plotinus to astrology—Porphyry’s Letter to Anebo—Its main argument—Questions concerning divine natures—Orders of spiritual beings—Nature of demons—The art of theurgy—Invocations and the power of words—Magic a human art: theurgy divine—Magic’s abuse of nature’s forces—Its evil character—Its deceit and unreality—Porphyry on modes of divination—Iamblichus on divination—Are the stars gods?—Is there an art of astrology?—Porphyry and astrology—Astrological images—Number mysticism—Porphyry as reported by Eusebius—The emperor Julian on theurgy and astrology—Julian and divination—Scientific divination according to Ammianus Marcellinus—Proclus on theurgy—Neo-Platonic account of magic borrowed by Christians—Neo-Platonists and alchemy.

Neo-Platonism and the occult—Plotinus on magic—The life of reason is the only one truly free from magic—Plotinus remains unaffected by magic—Summoning the spirit of Plotinus—Ritual of strangling birds—Plotinus and astrology—The stars as symbols—The divine star-souls—How do the stars influence and signify?—Other causes and symbols besides the stars—Stars are not the source of evil—Against the astrology of the Gnostics—Fate and free will—Summary of Plotinus's views on astrology—Porphyry’s Letter to Anebo—Its main argument—Questions about divine beings—Hierarchies of spiritual entities—Nature of demons—The practice of theurgy—Invocations and the power of words—Magic is a human skill: theurgy is divine—Magic's misuse of natural forces—Its negative nature—Its deception and unreality—Porphyry on methods of divination—Iamblichus on divination—Are the stars gods?—Is there a discipline of astrology?—Porphyry and astrology—Astrological symbols—Numerology—Porphyry as recounted by Eusebius—Emperor Julian on theurgy and astrology—Julian and divination—Scientific divination according to Ammianus Marcellinus—Proclus on theurgy—Neo-Platonic view of magic adopted by Christians—Neo-Platonists and alchemy.

Neo-Platonism and the occult.

That the Neo-Platonists were much given to the occult has been a common impression among those who have written upon the period of the decline of the Roman Empire, of the end of paganism, and the passing of classical philosophy. This is perhaps in some measure the result of Christian viewpoint and hostility; probably the Christians of the period would seem equally superstitious to a modern Neo-Platonist. If the lives of the philosophers by Eunapius sound like fairy tales,[1326] what do the lives of the saints of the same period sound like? If the Neo-Platonists were like our mediums,[Pg 299] what were the Christian exorcists like? But let us turn to the writings of the leading Neo-Platonists themselves, the only accurate mirror of their views.

That the Neo-Platonists were really into the occult has been a common belief among those who have studied the decline of the Roman Empire, the end of paganism, and the transition of classical philosophy. This may partly come from a Christian perspective and their opposition; it's likely that Christians from that time would seem just as superstitious to a modern Neo-Platonist. If the lives of the philosophers recorded by Eunapius sound like fairy tales, what do the lives of the saints from that same time sound like? If the Neo-Platonists were akin to our mediums, what were the Christian exorcists like? But let’s focus on the writings of the main Neo-Platonists themselves, which are the only true reflection of their beliefs.

Plotinus on magic.

Plotinus,[1327] who lived from about 204 to 270 A. D. and is generally regarded as the founder of Neo-Platonism, was apparently less given to occult sciences than some of his successors.[1328] One of his charges against the Gnostics[1329] is that they believe that they can move the higher and incorporeal powers by writing incantations and by spoken words and various other vocal utterances, all which he censures as mere magic and sorcery. He also attacks their belief that diseases are demons and can be expelled by words. This wins them a following among the crowd who are wont to marvel at the powers of magicians, but Plotinus insists that diseases are due to natural causes.[1330] Even he, however, accepted incantations and the charms of sorcerers and magicians as valid, and accounted for their potency by the sympathy or love and hatred which he said existed between different objects in nature, which operates even at a dis[Pg 300]tance, and which is an expression of one world-soul animating the universe.[1331]

Plotinus, [1327] who lived from around 204 to 270 A.D. and is generally seen as the founder of Neo-Platonism, seemed to be less interested in occult sciences than some of his successors.[1328] One of his criticisms of the Gnostics [1329] is that they think they can influence higher and incorporeal powers through incantations and spoken words, as well as other vocal expressions, all of which he views as simple magic and sorcery. He also challenges their belief that illnesses are demons that can be driven away with words. This attracts them a following among people who tend to be amazed by the abilities of magicians, but Plotinus insists that illnesses stem from natural causes.[1330] Even he, however, accepted the validity of incantations and the charms of sorcerers and magicians, explaining their effectiveness as a result of the sympathy or love and hatred he claimed existed between different objects in nature, which operates even at a distance, and is a reflection of one world-soul animating the universe.[1331]

The life of reason is alone free from magic.

Plotinus held further, however, that only the physical and irrational side of man’s nature was affected by drugs and sorcery, just as “even demons are not impassive in their irrational part,”[1332] and so are to some extent subject to magic. But the rational soul may free itself from all influence of magic.[1333] Moreover, remorselessly adds the clear-headed Plotinus with a burst of insight that may well be attributed to Hellenic genius, he who yields to the charms of love and family affection or seeks political power or aught else than Truth and true beauty, or even he who searches for beauty in inferior things; he who is deceived by appearances, he who follows irrational inclinations, is as truly bewitched as if he were the victim of magic and goetia so-called. The life of reason is alone free from magic.[1334] Whereat one is tempted to paraphrase a remark of Aelian[1335] and exclaim, “What do you think of that definition of magic, my dear anthropologists and sociologists and modern students of folk-lore?”

Plotinus further argued that only the physical and irrational aspects of human nature are affected by drugs and sorcery, just like “even demons aren’t indifferent in their irrational part,”[1332] and so they too are somewhat under the influence of magic. However, the rational soul can free itself from any magic influence.[1333] Moreover, Plotinus insistently states with a clarity that might be attributed to Hellenic genius, that anyone who gives in to the allure of love and family bonds, seeks political power, or looks for anything other than Truth and true beauty, or even someone who seeks beauty in lesser things; anyone who is misled by appearances, who follows irrational desires, is just as truly under a spell as if they were a victim of magic and goetia as it’s called. The life of reason is the only one that is free from magic.[1334] This prompts one to echo a remark from Aelian[1335] and say, “What do you think of that definition of magic, my dear anthropologists, sociologists, and modern folklorists?”

Plotinus unharmed by magic.

This immunity of the true philosopher and sincere follower of truth from magic received illustration, according to Porphyry,[1336] in the case of Plotinus himself, who suffered no harm from the magic arts which his enemy, Alexandrinus Olympius, directed against him. Instead the baleful defluxions from the stars which Olympius had tried to draw down upon Plotinus were turned upon himself. Porphyry also states[1337] that Plotinus was aware at the time of the “sidereal enchantments” of Olympius against him. Incidentally the episode provides one more proof of the essential unity of astrology and magic.

This immunity of the true philosopher and genuine seeker of truth from magic was illustrated, according to Porphyry,[1336] in the case of Plotinus himself, who faced no harm from the magical attacks of his enemy, Alexandrinus Olympius. Instead, the harmful influences from the stars that Olympius attempted to unleash on Plotinus fell back on himself. Porphyry also mentions[1337] that Plotinus was aware of Olympius's “sidereal enchantments” against him at the time. This incident further supports the fundamental connection between astrology and magic.

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Invoking the demon of Plotinus.

Plotinus, indeed, was regarded by his admirers as divinely inspired, as another incident from the Life by Porphyry will illustrate.[1338] An Egyptian priest had little difficulty in persuading Plotinus, who although of Roman parentage had been born in Egypt, to allow him to try to invoke his familiar demon. Plotinus was then teaching in Rome where he resided for twenty-six years, and the temple of Isis was the only pure place in the city which the priest could find for the ceremony. When the invocation had been duly performed, there appeared not a mere demon but a god. The apparition was not long enduring, however, nor would the priest permit them to question it, on the ground that one of the friends of Plotinus present had marred the success of the operation. This man had feared he might suffer some injury when the demon appeared and as a counter-charm had brought some birds which he held in his hands, apparently by the necks, for at the critical moment when the apparition appeared he suffocated them, whether from fright or from envy of Plotinus Porphyry declares himself unable to state.

Plotinus was seen by his fans as divinely inspired, as another story from the Life by Porphyry shows. An Egyptian priest easily convinced Plotinus, who, despite being of Roman descent, was born in Egypt, to let him try to summon his familiar demon. At that time, Plotinus was teaching in Rome, where he lived for twenty-six years, and the temple of Isis was the only sacred place in the city that the priest could find for the ritual. Once the invocation was completed, instead of a mere demon, a god appeared. However, the vision didn’t last long, and the priest wouldn’t allow them to ask questions, claiming that one of Plotinus’s friends had messed up the ritual's success. This man had been worried about getting harmed when the demon appeared and had brought some birds as a counter-charm, holding them by the necks. At the crucial moment when the apparition appeared, he suffocated the birds, and Porphyry admits he can’t tell whether it was out of fear or jealousy of Plotinus.

The rite of strangling birds.

This practice of grasping birds by the necks in both hands is shown by a number of works of art to have been a custom of great antiquity. We may see a winged Gorgon strangling a goose in either hand upon a plate of the seventh century B.C. from Rhodes now in the British Museum.[1339] A gold pendant of the ninth century B.C. from Aegina, now also in the British Museum, consists of a figure holding a water-bird by the neck in either hand, while from its thighs pairs of serpents issue on whose folds the birds stand with their bills touching the fangs of the snakes.[1340] There also is a figure of a winged goddess grasping two water-birds by the necks upon an ivory fibula excavated at Sparta.[1341]

This practice of grabbing birds by their necks with both hands has been depicted in various artworks and was a custom that dates back to ancient times. We can see a winged Gorgon choking a goose in each hand on a plate from the seventh century B.C. from Rhodes, now in the British Museum.[1339] A gold pendant from the ninth century B.C. found in Aegina, also in the British Museum, shows a figure holding a water-bird by the neck in each hand, with pairs of serpents emerging from its thighs, where the birds stand with their bills touching the snakes' fangs.[1340] There is also a depiction of a winged goddess holding two water-birds by their necks on an ivory brooch unearthed in Sparta.[1341]

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Plotinus and astrology.

Porphyry also tells us in the Life that Plotinus devoted considerable attention to the stars and refuted in his writings the unwarrantable claims of the casters of horoscopes.[1342] Such passages are found in the treatises on fate and on the soul, while one of his treatises is devoted entirely to the question, “Whether the stars effect anything?”[1343] This was one of four treatises which Plotinus a little before his death sent to Porphyry, and which are regarded as rather inferior to those composed by him when in the prime of life. In the next century the astrologer, Julius Firmicus Maternus, regards Plotinus as an enemy of astrology and represents him as dying a horrible and loathsome death from gangrene.[1344]

Porphyry also tells us in the Life that Plotinus paid a lot of attention to the stars and disproved in his writings the unfounded claims made by horoscope creators.[1342] Such passages can be found in the essays on fate and the soul, and one of his essays is entirely focused on the question, “Do the stars have any effect?”[1343] This was one of four essays that Plotinus sent to Porphyry shortly before his death, which are considered to be somewhat lesser in quality compared to those he wrote at the height of his career. In the next century, the astrologer Julius Firmicus Maternus views Plotinus as an opponent of astrology and depicts him as dying a terrible and disgusting death from gangrene.[1344]

The stars as signs.

As a matter of fact the criticisms made by Plotinus were not necessarily destructive to the art of astrology, but rather suggested a series of amendments by which it might be made more compatible with a Platonic view of the universe, deity, and human soul. These amendments also tended to meet Christian objections to the art. His criticisms were not new; Philo Judaeus had made similar ones over two centuries before.[1345] But the great influence of Plotinus gave added emphasis to these criticisms. For instance, the point made by him several times that the motion of the stars “does not cause everything but signifies the future concerning each”[1346] man and thing, is noted by Macrobius both in the Saturnalia[1347] and the Dream of Scipio;[1348] while in the twelfth century John of Salisbury, arguing against astrology, fears that its devotees will take refuge in the authority of Plotinus and say that they detract[Pg 303] nothing from the Creator’s power, since He established once for all an unalterable natural law and disposed all future events as He foresaw them. Thus the stars are merely His instruments.[1349]

Actually, the criticisms made by Plotinus weren’t necessarily harmful to the practice of astrology; instead, they proposed a series of changes that could make it more aligned with a Platonic view of the universe, God, and the human soul. These changes also addressed Christian objections to astrology. His critiques weren’t new; Philo Judaeus had raised similar points over two centuries earlier. However, Plotinus's significant influence added weight to these criticisms. For example, he often emphasized that the motion of the stars “does not cause everything but signifies the future concerning each” man and thing, a point noted by Macrobius in both the Saturnalia and the Dream of Scipio; while in the twelfth century, John of Salisbury, in his arguments against astrology, worried that its followers would rely on Plotinus’s authority and claim that they take nothing away from the Creator’s power, as He established an unchangeable natural law and predetermined all future events as He foresaw them. Therefore, the stars are merely His instruments.

The divine star-souls.

But let us see what Plotinus says himself rather than what others took to be his meaning. Like Plato, who regarded the stars as happy, divine, and eternal animals, Plotinus not only believes that the stars have souls but that their intellectual processes are far above the frailties of the human mind and nearer the omniscience of the world-soul. Memory, for example, is of no use to them,[1350] nor do they hear the prayers which men address to them.[1351] Plotinus often calls them gods. They are, however, parts of the universe, subordinate to the world-soul, and they cannot alter the fundamental principles of the universe, nor deprive other beings of their individuality, although they are able to make other beings better or worse.[1352]

But let’s see what Plotinus himself actually says instead of focusing on what others thought he meant. Like Plato, who viewed the stars as joyful, divine, and eternal beings, Plotinus not only believes that the stars have souls but also that their thinking processes are far superior to the weaknesses of the human mind and closer to the all-knowing world-soul. Memory, for instance, is useless to them,[1350] and they don’t hear the prayers that people send their way.[1351] Plotinus often refers to them as gods. However, they are still parts of the universe, subordinate to the world-soul, and they cannot change the fundamental principles of the universe, nor can they take away the individuality of other beings, even though they can influence other beings to be better or worse.[1352]

How do the stars cause and signify?

In his discussion of problems concerning the soul Plotinus says that “it is abundantly evident ... that the motion of the heavens affects things on earth and not only in bodies but also the dispositions of the soul,”[1353] and that each part of the heavens affects terrestrial and inferior objects. He does not, however, think that all this influence can be accounted for “exclusively by heat or cold,”—perhaps a dig at Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos.[1354] He also objects to ascribing the crimes of men to the will of the stars or every human act[Pg 304] to a sidereal decision,[1355] and to speaking of friendships and enmities as existing between the planets according as they are in this or that aspect towards one another.[1356] If then the admittedly vast influence of the stars cannot be satisfactorily accounted for either as material effects caused by them as bodies or as voluntary action taken by them, how is it to be explained? Plotinus accounts for it by the relation of sympathy which exists between all parts of the universe, that single living animal, and by the fact that the universe expresses itself in the figures formed by the movements of the celestial bodies, which “exert what influence they do exert on things here below through contemplation of the intelligible world.”[1357] These figures, or constellations in the astrological sense, have other powers than those of the bodies which participate in them, just as many plants and stones “among us” have marvelous occult powers for which heat and cold will not account.[1358] They both exert influence effectively and are signs of the future through their relation to the universal whole. In many things they are both causes and signs, in others they are signs only.[1359]

In his discussion of issues related to the soul, Plotinus states that “it is clear ... that the movement of the heavens impacts things on earth, not just physical bodies but also the state of the soul,”[1353] and that every part of the heavens influences earthly and lesser objects. However, he doesn't believe that this influence can be explained “solely by heat or cold,”—possibly a jab at Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos.[1354] He also argues against attributing human crimes to the stars’ influence or saying that every human action[Pg 304] is determined by a stellar choice,[1355] and against the idea that friendships and enmities exist between planets based on their positions relative to one another.[1356] If the significant influence of the stars cannot be satisfactorily explained as either material effects from their physical forms or as voluntary actions, how can we understand it? Plotinus explains it through the sympathetic connection between all parts of the universe, viewed as a single living organism, and the fact that the universe expresses itself through the shapes created by the movements of celestial bodies, which “exert whatever influence they have on things below through their contemplation of the intelligible world.”[1357] These shapes, or constellations in an astrological context, possess different powers than those of the bodies involved, similar to how many plants and stones “among us” have amazing hidden abilities that cannot be explained by heat and cold.[1358] They both exert effective influence and serve as signs of the future through their connection to the universal whole. In many aspects, they act as both causes and signs, while in others, they are only signs.[1359]

Other causes and signs than the stars.

For Plotinus, however, the universe is not a mechanical one where but one force prevails, namely, that produced by or represented by the constellations. The universe is full of variety with countless different powers, and the whole would not be a living animal unless each living thing in it lived its own life, and unless life were latent even in inanimate objects. It is true that some powers are more effective than others, and that those of the sky are more so than those of earth, and that many things lie under their power. Nevertheless Plotinus sees in the reproduction of life and species in the universe a force independent of the stars. In[Pg 305] the generation of any animal, for example, the stars contribute something, but the species must follow that of its forebears.[1360] And after they have been produced or begotten, terrestrial beings add something of their own. Nor are the stars the sole signs of the future. Plotinus holds that “all things are full of signs,” and that the sage can not merely predict from stars or birds, but infer one thing from another by virtue of the harmony and sympathy existing between all parts of the universe.[1361]

For Plotinus, though, the universe isn’t just a mechanical system ruled by a single force, like the one represented by the constellations. Instead, it’s full of diversity with countless different powers, and the whole wouldn’t be a living being unless each part lived its own life and unless life was present even in non-living things. It’s true that some powers are more impactful than others, and those of the sky are stronger than those of the earth, with many things falling under their influence. Still, Plotinus views the reproduction of life and species in the universe as a force that is independent of the stars. In[Pg 305] the birth of any animal, for example, the stars play a role, but the species must take after its ancestors.[1360] And once they have been born or created, land creatures contribute something unique of their own. The stars are not the only indicators of the future. Plotinus believes that “all things are full of signs,” and that a wise person can’t only predict based on stars or birds, but can also deduce one thing from another due to the harmony and connection that exists among all parts of the universe.[1361]

Stars not the cause of evil.

Nor can the gods or stars be said to cause evil on earth, since their influence is affected by other forces which mingle with it. Like the earlier Jewish Platonist, Philo, Plotinus denies that the planets are the cause of evil or change their own natures from good to evil as they enter new signs of the zodiac or take up different positions in relation to one another. He argues that they are not changeable beings, that they would not willingly injure men, or, if it is contended that they are mere bodies and have no wills, he replies that then they can produce only corporeal effects. He then solves the problem of evil in the usual manner by ascribing it to matter, in which reason and the celestial force are received unevenly, as light is broken and refracted in passing through water.[1362]

The gods and stars can't be said to cause evil on earth because their influence is affected by other forces that mix with it. Like the earlier Jewish Platonist, Philo, Plotinus argues that the planets don’t cause evil or change their nature from good to evil when they move into new zodiac signs or shift their positions in relation to each other. He claims they are not changeable beings and wouldn’t intentionally harm humans. If it's argued that they are just physical bodies without wills, he counters that they can only produce physical effects. He then addresses the problem of evil in the typical way by attributing it to matter, where reason and celestial power are unevenly received, just as light is broken and refracted when it passes through water.[1362]

Against the astrology of the Gnostics.

Plotinus repeats much the same line of argument in his book against the Gnostics, where he protests against “the tragedy of terrors which they think exists in the spheres of the universe,”[1363] and the tyranny they ascribe to the heavenly bodies. His belief is that the celestial spheres are in perfect harmony both with the universe as a whole and with our globe, completing the whole and constituting a great part of it, supplying beauty and order. And often they are to be regarded as signs rather than causes of the future. Their natures are constant, but the sequence of events may be varied by chance circumstances, such as different hours of[Pg 306] nativities, place of residence, and the dispositions of individual souls. Amid all this diversity one must also expect both good and evil, but not on that account call nature or the stars either evil themselves or the cause of evil.

Plotinus makes a similar argument in his book against the Gnostics, where he expresses his concern about "the tragedy of terrors that they believe exists in the spheres of the universe,"[1363] and the oppression they attribute to the celestial bodies. He believes that the heavenly spheres are in perfect harmony with the universe overall and with our planet, completing the whole and making up a significant part of it, providing beauty and order. Often, they should be viewed as signs rather than causes of the future. Their natures are unchanging, but the order of events can be influenced by random factors, like the time of birth, place of residence, and the tendencies of individual souls. Despite all this variety, one should also anticipate both good and bad outcomes, but that doesn’t mean we should label nature or the stars as evil or as the source of evil.

Fate and free-will.

As the allusion just made in the preceding paragraph to “the dispositions of individual souls” shows, Plotinus made a distinction between the extent of the control exercised by the stars over inanimate, animate, and rational beings. The stars signify all things in the sensible world but the soul is free unless it slips and is stained by the body and so comes under their control. Fate or the force of the stars is like a wind which shakes and tosses the ship of the body in which the soul makes its passage. Man as a part of the world does some things and suffers many things in accordance with destiny. Some men become slaves to this world and to external influences, as if they were bewitched. Others look to their inner souls and strive to free themselves from the sensible world and to rise above demonic nature and all fate of nativities and all necessity of this world, and to live in the intelligible world above[1364].

As the reference in the previous paragraph to “the dispositions of individual souls” indicates, Plotinus differentiated between how much control the stars have over inanimate, animate, and rational beings. The stars represent everything in the observable world, but the soul remains free unless it becomes trapped and tainted by the body, bringing it under their influence. Fate, or the power of the stars, is like a wind that rocks and jostles the ship of the body in which the soul travels. As a part of the world, humans do some things and endure many things according to destiny. Some people become enslaved to this world and external influences, almost as if they’re under a spell. Others turn inward, seeking to liberate themselves from the tangible world, rise above their lower nature, escape the fate tied to their birth, and live in the higher, intelligible realm above[1364].

Summary of the attitude of Plotinus to astrology.

Thus Plotinus arrives at practically what was to be the usual Christian position in the middle ages regarding the influence of the stars, maintaining the freedom of the human will and yet allowing a large field to astrological prediction. He is evidently more concerned to combat the notion that the stars cause evil or are to be feared as evil powers than he is to combat the belief in their influence and significations. His speaking of the stars both as signs and causes in a way doubles the possibility of prediction from them. If he attacked the language used by astrologers of the planets, and perhaps to a certain extent the technique of their art, he supported astrology by reconciling the existence of evil and of human freedom with a great influence of the stars and by his emphasis upon the importance of the figures made by the[Pg 307] movements of the heavenly bodies above any purely physical effects of their bodies as such. Thus he reinforced the conception of occult virtue, always one of the chief pillars, if not the chief support, of occult science and magic. On the other hand, men were not likely to reform a language and technique sanctioned by as great an astronomer as Ptolemy merely because a Neo-Platonist questioned its propriety.

Thus, Plotinus essentially arrives at what would become the typical Christian stance during the Middle Ages regarding the influence of the stars, maintaining the freedom of human will while allowing for a significant role of astrological prediction. He seems more focused on challenging the idea that stars cause evil or should be feared as malevolent forces than on opposing the belief in their influence and meanings. By referring to the stars as both signs and causes, he effectively doubles the potential for predictions from them. Although he criticized the language used by astrologers regarding the planets and, to some extent, the techniques of their craft, he supported astrology by reconciling the existence of evil and human freedom with a strong influence of the stars. He emphasized the significance of the patterns created by the movements of celestial bodies over any purely physical effects they might have. In doing so, he reinforced the idea of occult virtue, which has always been one of the main foundations, if not the primary support, of occult science and magic. However, it’s unlikely that people would modify a language and techniques supported by such a renowned astronomer as Ptolemy simply because a Neo-Platonist questioned its validity.

Porphyry’s Letter to Anebo.

Although Plotinus denied that diseases were due to demons, we once heard him speak of “demonic nature,” and one of the Enneads discusses Each man’s own demon. Here, however, the discussion is limited to the power presiding in each human soul, and nothing is said of magic. For the connection of demons with magic and for the art of theurgy we must turn to the writings of Porphyry and Iamblichus, and especially to The Letter to Anebo of Porphyry, who lived from about 233 to 305, and the reply thereto of the master Abammon, a work which is otherwise known as Liber de mysteriis[1365]. The attribution of the latter work to Iamblichus, who died about 330, is based upon an anonymous assertion prefixed to an ancient manuscript of Proclus and upon the fact that Proclus himself quotes a passage from the De mysteriis as the words of Iamblichus. This attribution has been questioned, but if not by Iamblichus, the work seems to be at least by some disciple of his with similar views[1366]. Other works of Iamblichus are largely philosophical and mathematical; among the chief works of Porphyry, apart from his literary work in connection with Plotinus, were his commentaries on Aristotle and fifteen books against the Christians.

Although Plotinus rejected the idea that diseases were caused by demons, we once heard him mention “demonic nature,” and one of the Enneads talks about Each man’s own demon. In this case, though, the discussion focuses on the power present in each human soul, and there’s no mention of magic. For the link between demons and magic, and for the practice of theurgy, we need to look at the writings of Porphyry and Iamblichus, especially at Porphyry’s The Letter to Anebo, who lived from around 233 to 305, and the reply from the master Abammon, also known as Liber de mysteriis[1365]. The attribution of the latter work to Iamblichus, who died around 330, comes from an anonymous claim in an ancient manuscript of Proclus, as well as the fact that Proclus quotes a part of De mysteriis as being the words of Iamblichus. This attribution has been questioned, but if it wasn’t written by Iamblichus, it seems to be by one of his disciples with similar viewpoints[1366]. Other works of Iamblichus are mostly philosophical and mathematical; key works of Porphyry, aside from his literary work related to Plotinus, include his commentaries on Aristotle and fifteen books against the Christians.

Its main argument.

The Letter to Anebo inquires concerning the nature of the gods, the demons, and the stars; asks for an explanation of divination and astrology, of the power of names and incantations; and questions the employment of invocations[Pg 308] and sacrifice. Other topics brought up are the rule of spirits over the world of nature, partitioned out among them for this purpose; the divine inspiration or demoniacal possession of human beings; and the occult sympathy between different things in the material universe. In especial the art of theurgy, a word said to be used now for the first time by Porphyry,[1367] is discussed. It may be roughly defined for the moment as a sort of pious necromancy or magical cult of the gods. Porphyry raises various objections to the procedure and logic of the theurgists, diviners, enchanters, and astrologers, which Iamblichus, as we shall henceforth call the author of the De mysteriis as a matter of convenience if not of certainty, endeavors to answer, and to justify the art of theurgy.

The Letter to Anebo asks about the nature of the gods, demons, and stars; seeks an explanation of divination and astrology, the power of names and spells; and questions the use of invocations[Pg 308] and sacrifices. Other topics discussed include the control of spirits over the natural world, which is divided among them for this purpose; the divine inspiration or demonic possession of humans; and the hidden connections between different things in the material universe. Particularly, the art of theurgy, a term supposedly first used by Porphyry, is examined. It can be roughly defined for now as a form of pious necromancy or magical worship of the gods. Porphyry raises several objections to the practices and reasoning of theurgists, diviners, enchanters, and astrologers, which Iamblichus, as we will refer to the author of the De mysteriis for simplicity’s sake if not certainty, attempts to address and defend the practice of theurgy.

Questions concerning divine natures.

We may first note the theory of demons which is elicited from Iamblichus in response to Porphyry’s trenchant and searching questions. The latter, declaring that ignorance and disingenuousness concerning divine natures are no less reprehensible than impiety and impurity, demands a scientific discussion of the gods as a holy and beneficial act. He asks why, if the divine power is infinite, indivisible, and incomprehensible, different places and different parts of the body are allotted to different gods. Why, if the gods are pure intellects, they are represented as having passions, are worshiped with phallic ritual, and are tempted with invocations and sacred offerings? Why boastful speech and fantastic action are taken as indications of the divine presence; and why, if the gods dwell in the heavens, theurgists invoke only terrestrial and subterranean deities? How superior beings can be invoked with commands by their inferiors, why the Sun and Moon are threatened, why the man must be just and chaste who invokes spirits in order to secure unjust ends or gratify lust, and why the worshiper must abstain from animal food and not touch a corpse when sacrifices to the gods consist of the bodies of dead victims? Porphyry[Pg 309] wishes further an explanation of the various genera of gods, visible and invisible, corporeal and incorporeal, beneficent and malicious, aquatic and aerial. He wants to know whether the stars are not gods, how gods differ from demons, and what the distinction is between souls and heroes.

We can first consider the theory of demons found in Iamblichus' responses to Porphyry's sharp and probing questions. Porphyry argues that ignorance and insincerity about divine beings are just as objectionable as impiety and impurity, and he calls for a scientific discussion of the gods as a sacred and beneficial endeavor. He questions why, if divine power is infinite, indivisible, and beyond comprehension, different locations and parts of the body are assigned to different gods. He wonders why, if the gods are purely intellectual, they are depicted as having emotions, worshiped with phallic rituals, and tempted with invocations and sacred offerings. He asks why boastful speech and extravagant actions are seen as signs of the divine presence, and why, if the gods reside in the heavens, theurgists only call upon earthly and underground deities. He raises questions about how lower beings can command higher ones, why the Sun and Moon are threatened, why a person must be just and chaste when invoking spirits to achieve unfair advantages or satisfy lust, and why worshipers must refrain from eating meat and avoid touching a corpse when sacrifices to the gods involve the bodies of slain victims. Porphyry[Pg 309] also seeks an explanation of the different kinds of gods—visible and invisible, physical and non-physical, beneficial and harmful, aquatic and aerial. He wants to know if the stars are gods, how gods differ from demons, and what sets souls apart from heroes.

Orders of spiritual beings.

Iamblichus in reply states that as heroes are elevated above souls, so demons are inferior and subservient to the gods and translate the infinite, ineffable, and invisible divine transcendent goodness into terms of visible forms, energy, and reason.[1368] He further distinguishes “the etherial, empyrean, and celestial gods,” and angels, archangels, and archons.[1369] As for corporeal, visible, aerial, and aquatic gods, he affirms that the gods have no bodies and no particular allotments of space, but that natural objects participate in or are related to the gods etherially or aerially or aquatically, each according to its nature.[1370] “The celestial divinities,” for example, “are not comprehended by bodies but contain bodies in their divine lives and energies. They are not themselves converted to body, but they have a body which is converted to its divine cause, and that body does not impede their intellectual and incorporeal perfection.”[1371] Iamblichus denies that there are any maleficent gods, saying that “it is much better to acknowledge our inability to explain the occurrence of evil than to admit anything impossible and false concerning the gods.”[1372] But he admits the existence of both good and evil demons and makes of the latter a convenient scapegoat upon whom to saddle any inconsistencies or impurities in religious rites and magical ceremony.

Iamblichus responds by saying that just as heroes are above souls, demons are lower and serve the gods, translating the infinite, indescribable, and unseen divine transcendent goodness into visible forms, energy, and reason.[1368] He also makes a distinction between “the etherial, empyrean, and celestial gods,” as well as angels, archangels, and archons.[1369] Regarding the physical, visible, aerial, and aquatic gods, he asserts that the gods don't have bodies and aren't confined to specific spaces, but that natural objects are connected to the gods etherially, aerially, or aquatically, each according to its own nature.[1370] For example, “the celestial divinities” “are not understood through bodies but have bodies within their divine lives and energies. They themselves do not become physical, but they possess a body that is transformed into its divine purpose, and that body does not hinder their intellectual and incorporeal perfection.”[1371] Iamblichus argues against the idea of any malevolent gods, stating that “it is much better to acknowledge our inability to explain the existence of evil than to accept anything impossible or false about the gods.”[1372] However, he acknowledges the presence of both good and evil demons and uses the latter as a convenient scapegoat for any inconsistencies or impurities in religious practices and magical ceremonies.

Nature of demons.

Iamblichus does not, however, hold the view of Apuleius that demons are subject to passions. They are impassive and incapable of suffering.[1373] He scorns the notion that even the worst demons can be allured by the vapors of animal sacrifice or that petty mortals can supply such beings with anything;[1374] it is rather in the consumption of foul matter[Pg 310] by pure fire in the act of sacrifice that they take delight. Demons are not, however, like the gods entirely separated from bodies. The world is divided up into prefectures among them and they are more or less inseparable from and identified with the natural objects which they govern.[1375] Thus they may serve to enmesh the soul in the bonds of matter and of fate, and to afflict the body with disease.[1376] Also the evil demons “are surrounded by certain noxious, blood-devouring, and fierce wild beasts,” probably of the type of vampires and empousas.[1377] Iamblichus further holds that there is a class of demons who are without judgment and reason, each of whom has some one function to perform and is not adapted to do anything else.[1378] Such demons or forces in nature men may well address as superiors in invoking them, since they are superior to men in their one special function; but when they have once been invoked, man as a rational being may also well issue commands to them as his irrational inferiors.[1379]

Iamblichus does not agree with Apuleius that demons experience emotions. They are apathetic and incapable of suffering. [1373] He dismisses the idea that even the worst demons can be tempted by the fumes of animal sacrifices or that ordinary people can offer anything to such beings; [1374] rather, they take pleasure in the burning of foul matter by pure fire during sacrifice. Demons are not entirely separate from bodies like the gods are. The world is divided into areas among them, and they are mostly intertwined with and identified with the natural objects they govern. [1375] Thus, they can trap the soul in the constraints of matter and fate, and cause the body to suffer from illness. [1376] Moreover, the evil demons “are surrounded by certain noxious, blood-devouring, and fierce wild beasts,” likely similar to vampires and empousas. [1377] Iamblichus also believes there is a type of demons who lack judgment and reason, each assigned a specific function and unable to do anything beyond that. [1378] Such demons or forces in nature can be addressed as superiors when invoked, as they are superior to humans in their particular role; but once they have been called upon, a rational human can also issue commands to them as their irrational inferiors. [1379]

The art of theurgy.

Iamblichus also undertakes the defense of theurgy and carefully distinguishes it from magic, as we shall soon see. It is also different from science, since it does not merely employ the physical forces of the natural universe,[1380] and from philosophy, since its ineffable works are beyond the reach of mere intelligence, and those who merely philosophize theoretically cannot hope for a theurgic union or communion with the gods.[1381] Even theurgists cannot as a rule endure the light of spiritual beings higher than heroes, demons, and angels,[1382] and it is an exceedingly rare occurrence for one of them to be united with the supramundane gods.[1383] This theurgy, or “the art of divine works,” operates by means of “arcane signatures” and “the power of inexplicable symbols.”[1384] It is thus that Iamblichus explains away most of the details in sacred rites and sacrifices to which Porphyry[Pg 311] had objected as obscene or material and as implying that the gods themselves were passive and passionate. They are mystic symbols, “consecrated from eternity” for some hidden reason “which is more excellent than reason.”[1385] Occult virtues indeed! We have already heard Iamblichus state that natural objects participate in or are related to the gods etherially or aerially or aquatically; theurgists therefore quite properly employ in their art certain stones, herbs, aromatics, and sacred animals.[1386] By employing such potent symbols mere man takes on such a sacred character himself that he is able to command many spiritual powers.[1387]

Iamblichus also defends theurgy and clearly distinguishes it from magic, as we will soon see. It’s also different from science, since it doesn’t just use the physical forces of the natural world, and from philosophy, since its profound works go beyond the understanding of mere intelligence. Those who only engage in theoretical philosophy cannot expect to achieve a theurgic union or communion with the gods. Even those who practice theurgy typically cannot handle the presence of spiritual beings that are higher than heroes, demons, and angels, and it’s incredibly rare for someone to connect with the transcendent gods. This theurgy, or “the art of divine works,” operates through “hidden signatures” and “the power of inexplicable symbols.” This is how Iamblichus addresses most of the details in the sacred rites and sacrifices that Porphyry had criticized as obscene or material, suggesting that the gods themselves were passive and emotional. They are mystical symbols, “consecrated from eternity” for some hidden purpose “which is more excellent than reason.” Incredible occult virtues indeed! We have already heard Iamblichus mention that natural objects connect to or relate to the gods etherically or aerially or aquatically; therefore, theurgists rightfully use certain stones, herbs, aromatics, and sacred animals in their practice. By using such powerful symbols, ordinary people take on a sacred quality themselves, allowing them to command many spiritual powers.

Invocations and the power of words.

Invocations and prayers are also much used in theurgical operations. But such invocations do not draw down the impassive and pure gods to this world; rather they purify those who employ them from their passions and impurity and exalt them to union with the pure and the divine.[1388] These prayers are symbolic, too. They do not appeal to human passions or reason, “for they are perfectly unknown and arcane and are alone known to the God whom they invoke.”[1389] In another passage[1390] Iamblichus replies to Porphyry’s objection that such prayers are often composed of meaningless words and names without signification by declaring—somewhat inconsistently with his previous assertion that these invocations are “perfectly unknown”—that some of the names “which we can scientifically analyze” comprehend “the whole divine essence, power and order.” Moreover, if translated into another language, they do not have exactly the same meaning, and even if they do, they no longer retain the same power as in the original tongue. We shall meet a similar passage concerning the power of words and divine names in the church father Origen who lived earlier in the third century than Porphyry and Iamblichus. Iamblichus concludes that “it is necessary that[Pg 312] ancient prayers ... should be preserved invariably the same.”[1391]

Invocations and prayers are also frequently used in theurgical operations. However, these invocations don’t summon the detached and pure gods to this world; instead, they cleanse those who use them from their desires and impurities and elevate them toward unity with the pure and divine.[1388] These prayers are symbolic as well. They don’t appeal to human emotions or logic, “for they are completely unknown and mystical and are only known to the God they call upon.”[1389] In another passage[1390], Iamblichus responds to Porphyry’s claim that such prayers often consist of meaningless words and names without significance by stating—somewhat inconsistently with his earlier claim that these invocations are “completely unknown”—that some of the names “which we can scientifically analyze” encompass “the entire divine essence, power, and order.” Furthermore, when translated into another language, they don’t carry exactly the same meaning, and even if they do, they lose their power compared to the original language. We will encounter a similar discussion about the power of words and divine names in the church father Origen, who lived earlier in the third century than Porphyry and Iamblichus. Iamblichus concludes that “it is essential that [Pg 312] ancient prayers ... should be preserved exactly the same.”[1391]

Magic a human art: theurgy divine.

Neither Porphyry nor Iamblichus, I believe, employs the word, “magic,” but they both often allude to its practitioners and methods by such expressions as “jugglers” and “enchanters” or by contrasting what is done “artificially” or by means of art with theurgical operations. In the last case the distinction is between what on the one hand is regarded as a divine mystery or revelation and what on the other hand is looked upon as a mere human art and contrivance. And “nothing ... which is fashioned by human art is genuine and pure.”[1392] Christian writers drew a like distinction between prophecy or miracle and divination or magic. Sometimes, however, Iamblichus speaks of theurgy itself as an art, an involuntary admission of the close resemblance between its methods and those of magic. We are also told that if the theurgist makes a slip in his procedure, he thereby reduces it to the level of magic.[1393]

Neither Porphyry nor Iamblichus, I believe, uses the word "magic," but they both often refer to its practitioners and methods with terms like "jugglers" and "enchanters" or by contrasting what is done "artificially" or through art with theurgical practices. In the latter case, the distinction is between what is considered a divine mystery or revelation and what is seen as a mere human skill or trick. And "nothing ... which is crafted by human skill is genuine and pure." [1392] Christian writers made a similar distinction between prophecy or miracle and divination or magic. However, at times, Iamblichus refers to theurgy itself as an art, an unintentional acknowledgment of the close similarity between its methods and those of magic. We are also told that if the theurgist makes a mistake in his process, he reduces it to the level of magic.[1393]

Magic’s abuse of nature’s forces.

Another distinction is that theurgy aims at communion with the gods while magic has to do rather with “the physical or corporeal powers of the universe.”[1394] Both Porphyry and Iamblichus believed that harmony, sympathy, and mutual attraction existed between the various objects in the universe, which Iamblichus asserted was one animal.[1395] Thus it is possible for man to draw distant things to himself or to unite them to, or separate them from, one another.[1396] But art may also use this force of sympathy between objects in an extreme and unseemly manner, and this disorderly forcing of nature, we are left to infer, constitutes an essential feature of magic, whose procedure is not truly natural or scientific.

Another distinction is that theurgy focuses on connecting with the gods, while magic deals more with “the physical or material powers of the universe.”[1394] Both Porphyry and Iamblichus believed that harmony, sympathy, and mutual attraction existed among various objects in the universe, which Iamblichus claimed was one single living being.[1395] Therefore, it’s possible for a person to draw distant things toward themselves or to connect them to or separate them from each other.[1396] However, art can also exploit this sympathetic connection between objects in a drastic and inappropriate way, and this chaotic manipulation of nature, we can deduce, is a key aspect of magic, whose methods are not truly natural or scientific.

Its evil character.

Magic not only disorders the law and harmony, and makes a perverse and contrary use of natural forces. Its practitioners are also represented as aiming at evil ends and as[Pg 313] themselves of evil character.[1397] They may try by their illicit and impure procedure to have intercourse with the gods or with pure spirits, but they are unable to accomplish this. All that they succeed in doing is to secure the alliance of evil demons by associating with whom they become more depraved than ever. Such wicked demons may pose as angels of light by requiring that those who invoke them should be just or chaste, but afterwards they show their true colors by assisting in crimes and the gratification of lusts.[1398] It is they, too, who assuming the guise of superior spirits are responsible for the boastful and arrogant utterances of which Porphyry complained in persons supposed to be divinely inspired.[1399]

Magic not only disrupts the law and harmony but also misuses natural forces in harmful ways. Those who practice it are often portrayed as seeking evil outcomes and as having evil natures themselves. They might attempt, through their illegitimate and unclean methods, to connect with the gods or pure spirits, but they are ultimately unsuccessful. All they end up achieving is forming alliances with wicked demons, and by doing so, they become even more corrupt. These malevolent demons may present themselves as angels of light, claiming that those who call upon them must be just or pure, but they eventually reveal their true nature by aiding in crimes and satisfying base desires. They are also the ones, disguising themselves as higher spirits, who incite the boastful and arrogant claims that Porphyry criticized in individuals believed to be divinely inspired.

Its deceit and unreality.

Finally magic is unstable and fantastic. “The imaginations artificially produced by enchantment” are not real objects. Those who foretell the future by “standing on characters” are no theurgists, but employ a superficial, false, and deceptive procedure which can attract only evil demons.[1400] These demons are themselves deceitful and produce “fictitious images.”[1401] Porphyry in the Letter to Anebo also alluded to the frauds of “jugglers.” Although the attitude both of Porphyry and Iamblichus is thus professedly unfavorable to the magic arts, we find that one of Iamblichus’s disciples, named Sopater, was executed under Constantine on a charge of having charmed the winds.[1402]

Finally, magic is unstable and fantastic. “The imaginations created by enchantment” are not real objects. Those who predict the future by “standing on characters” are not true theurgists, but use a superficial, false, and deceptive method that can only attract evil demons.[1400] These demons are themselves deceitful and create “fake images.”[1401] Porphyry in the Letter to Anebo also mentioned the tricks of “jugglers.” Although both Porphyry and Iamblichus clearly have a negative view of magic, we find that one of Iamblichus’s students, a man named Sopater, was executed under Constantine for allegedly charming the winds.[1402]

Porphyry on modes of divination.

How is divination to be placed in reference to magic and theurgy? Porphyry had inquired concerning various methods of divination: in sleep, in trances, and when fully conscious; in ecstasy, in disease, and in states of mental aberration or enchantment. He mentioned divination on hearing drums and cymbals, by drinking water and other potions, by inhaling vapor; divination in darkness, in a wall, in the open air or in the sunlight; by observing entrails or the flight of birds or the motion of the stars, or even by means[Pg 314] of meal. Yet other modes of determining the future which he lists are by characters, images, incantations, and invocations, with which the use of stones and herbs is often combined. These details make it evident how impossible it is to draw any dividing line between the methods of magic and divination, and Porphyry himself states that those who invoke the gods concerning the future not only “have about them stones and herbs,” but are able to bind and to free from bonds, to open closed doors, and to change men’s intentions. Among the virtues of parts of animals mentioned in his treatise upon abstinence from animal food are the powers of divination which may be obtained by eating the heart of a hawk or crow.[1403]

How should we understand divination in relation to magic and theurgy? Porphyry explored different methods of divination: during sleep, in trances, and while fully awake; in ecstasy, in sickness, and in states of mental confusion or enchantment. He discussed divination through the sounds of drums and cymbals, by drinking water and other potions, by inhaling vapor; in darkness, in walls, outdoors, or in sunlight; by examining entrails, observing the flight of birds, the movement of stars, or even by using flour. He also listed other ways to predict the future using symbols, images, spells, and invocations, often combined with stones and herbs. These details show how difficult it is to clearly separate the practices of magic from divination, and Porphyry himself notes that those who call upon the gods for guidance not only “have stones and herbs with them,” but can also bind or free someone from constraints, unlock closed doors, and change people's intentions. Among the powers of animal parts described in his work on abstaining from meat are the divinatory abilities that can come from consuming the heart of a hawk or crow.

Iamblichus on divination.

Porphyry states that all diviners attribute their predictions to gods or demons, but that he wonders if foreknowledge may not be a power of the human soul or perhaps accountable for by the sympathy which exists between different parts of the universe. Iamblichus holds, however, that divination is neither a human art nor the work of nature but of divine origin.[1404] He perhaps regards it as little more than a branch of theurgy. He distinguishes between human dreams which are sometimes true, sometimes false, and dreams and visions divinely sent.[1405] If one is able to predict the future by drinking water, it is because the water has been divinely illuminated.[1406] That we can predict when the mind is diseased and disordered, and that stupid or simple-minded men are often better able to prophesy than the wise and learned, are for him but further proofs that foreknowledge is a divine gift and not a human science, while divination by such means as rods, pebbles, grains of corn and wheat simply excites the more his pious admiration at the greatness of divine power.[1407] He disapproves of divination by standing on characters,[1408] but sees no reason why divination in darkness, in a wall, or in sunlight, or by potions and incantations, may not be divinely directed. He will not,[Pg 315] however, connect the disordered imaginations excited by disease with divine presentiments.[1409] From true divination he also separates the “natural prescience” of certain animals whose acuteness of sense or occult sympathy with other parts and forces of nature enables them to perceive some coming events before men do. Their power resembles prophecy, “yet falls short of it in stability and truth.”[1410] Augury is an art whose conjectures have great probability, but they are based upon divine signs or portents effected in nature by the agency of demons.[1411]

Porphyry claims that all diviners credit their predictions to gods or demons, but he questions whether foreknowledge might be a capability of the human soul or perhaps explained by the connections that exist between different parts of the universe. Iamblichus, however, believes that divination is neither a human skill nor a natural occurrence, but is of divine origin.[1404] He may view it as merely a branch of theurgy. He differentiates between human dreams that can be true or false, and dreams and visions sent by divine influence.[1405] If someone can predict the future by drinking water, it’s because the water has been divinely illuminated.[1406] The fact that we can predict when the mind is sick and disordered, and that simple or foolish people often prophesy better than the wise and learned, serves for him as additional evidence that foreknowledge is a divine gift and not a human science, while divination through methods like rods, pebbles, grains of corn, and wheat only deepens his pious admiration for the greatness of divine power.[1407] He disapproves of divination by standing on characters,[1408] but sees no issue with divination in darkness, on a wall, in sunlight, or through potions and incantations, as these may also be divinely guided. He will not,[Pg 315] however, link the chaotic imaginations stirred by illness with divine intuitions.[1409] He also distinguishes true divination from the “natural prescience” of certain animals, whose heightened senses or hidden connections with other parts and forces of nature allow them to perceive certain upcoming events before humans do. Their ability is similar to prophecy, “yet falls short of it in stability and truth.”[1410] Augury is an art whose predictions have a high likelihood of being correct, but they rely on divine signs or omens created in nature by the influence of demons.[1411]

Are the stars gods?

The stars are on a totally different plane from the other substances employed in divination. To Porphyry’s question whether they are not gods Iamblichus is not content to reply that the celestial divinities comprehend these heavenly bodies and that the bodies in no way impede “their intellectual and incorporeal perfection.”[1412] He must needs go on to argue that the stars themselves, as simple indivisible bodies, unchanging in quality and uniform in movement, closely approach to “the incorporeal essence of the gods.” He then triumphantly if illogically concludes, “Thus therefore the visible celestials are all of them gods and after a certain manner incorporeal.” We may add the opinion of Chaeremon and others, noted by Porphyry, that the only gods were the physical ones of the Egyptians and the planets, signs of the zodiac, decans, and horoscope; all religious myths were explained by Chaeremon as astrological allegories.

The stars exist on a completely different level than the other elements used in divination. When Porphyry asks if they aren't gods, Iamblichus isn't satisfied with just saying that the celestial gods include these heavenly bodies and that those bodies don't interfere with “their intellectual and incorporeal perfection.” [1412] He insists on arguing that the stars themselves, as simple, indivisible entities, unchanging in nature and consistent in movement, closely resemble “the incorporeal essence of the gods.” He then concludes, albeit illogically, with triumph, “Therefore, all the visible celestial bodies are gods and in a certain way incorporeal.” We can also consider the view of Chaeremon and others, mentioned by Porphyry, who believed that the only gods were the physical ones of the Egyptians, along with the planets, signs of the zodiac, decans, and horoscopes; all religious myths were interpreted by Chaeremon as astrological allegories.

Is there an art of astrology?

Porphyry objected that those who thus reduce religion to astrology submit everything to fate and leave the human soul no freedom, and furthermore that in any case astrology is an unattainable science. Iamblichus defends it against these objections, insisting that the universe is divided under the rule of planets, signs, and decans;[1413] that the Egyptians[Pg 316] do not make everything physical but ascribe two souls to man, one of which obeys the revolutions of the stars, while the other is intellectual and free;[1414] and that there is a systematic art of astrology based on divine revelation and the long observations of the Chaldeans, although like any other science it may at times degenerate and become contaminated by error.[1415] Iamblichus further regards as ridiculous the contention of those “who ascribe depravity to the celestial bodies because their participants sometimes produce evil.”[1416] In the brief separate treatise, De fato,[1417] he again holds that all things are bound by the indissoluble chain of necessity which men call fate, but that the gods can loose the bonds of fate, and that the human mind, too, has power to rise above nature, unite with the gods, and enjoy eternal life.

Porphyry argued that reducing religion to astrology means submitting everything to fate and taking away the freedom of the human soul. He also claimed that astrology is an impossible science. Iamblichus defends astrology against these criticisms, insisting that the universe is governed by planets, signs, and decans; that the Egyptians do not see everything as physical and believe humans have two souls—one that follows the movements of the stars and another that is intellectual and free; and that there is a structured art of astrology based on divine revelation and extensive observations by the Chaldeans, although like any other science, it can sometimes decline and be tainted by error. Iamblichus also finds it absurd that some people blame celestial bodies for evil just because their influences can sometimes lead to negative outcomes. In his short independent work, De fato, he reiterates that everything is connected by an unbreakable chain of necessity that people refer to as fate, but he believes that the gods can break these chains, and that the human mind also has the ability to transcend nature, connect with the gods, and attain eternal life.

Porphyry and astrology.

Whether Porphyry in his other extant works evidences a belief in astrology or not, and whether he wrote an Introduction to the Tetrabiblos or astrological handbook of Ptolemy, has been disputed.[1418] This Introduction ascribed to Porphyry was much cited by subsequent astrologers[1419] and was printed in 1559 together with a much longer anonymous commentary on the Tetrabiblos which some ascribe to Proclus.[1420]

Whether Porphyry's other surviving works show he believed in astrology or not, and whether he wrote an Introduction to the Tetrabiblos or an astrological handbook by Ptolemy, has been debated.[1418] This Introduction attributed to Porphyry was heavily referenced by later astrologers[1419] and was published in 1559 alongside a much longer anonymous commentary on the Tetrabiblos, which some credit to Proclus.[1420]

Astrological images.

Towards astrological images at least, Porphyry shows himself in the Letter to Anebo more favorable than Iamblichus, saying, “Nor are the artificers of efficacious images to be despised, for they observe the motion of celestial bodies.” Iamblichus, on the other hand, rather grudgingly admits that “the image-making art attracts a certain very obscure genesiurgic portion from the celestial effluxions.”[1421] He seems to have the same feeling against images as against[Pg 317] characters, perhaps regarding both as bordering upon idolatry.[1422]

Towards astrological images, Porphyry is more favorable in the Letter to Anebo than Iamblichus, stating, “The creators of effective images shouldn’t be looked down upon, as they pay attention to the movements of celestial bodies.” In contrast, Iamblichus reluctantly acknowledges that “the art of image-making draws a certain very obscure generative power from the celestial energies.”[1421] He seems to feel similarly about images as he does about characters, possibly considering both to be close to idolatry.[1422]

Number mysticism.

Plotinus, Porphyry, and Iamblichus were all given to number mysticism. The sixth book of the sixth Ennead is entirely devoted to this subject, while Porphyry and Iamblichus both wrote Lives of Pythagoras and treatises upon his doctrine of number.

Plotinus, Porphyry, and Iamblichus were all into number mysticism. The sixth book of the sixth Ennead is entirely focused on this topic, while Porphyry and Iamblichus both wrote Lives of Pythagoras and essays on his ideas about numbers.

Porphyry as reported by Eusebius.

Other works by Porphyry than the Letter to Anebo are cited or quoted a good deal by Eusebius in Praeparatio evangelica, especially his Περὶ τῆς ἐκ λογίων φιλοσοφίας, but the extracts are made for Eusebius’s own purposes, which are to discredit pagan religion, and neither express Porphyry’s complete thought nor probably even tend to prove his original point. Besides showing that Porphyry was inconsistent in distinguishing the different victims to be sacrificed to terrestrial and subterranean, aerial, celestial, and sea gods in the above-mentioned work, when in his De abstinentia a rebus animatis he held that beings who delighted in animal sacrifice were no gods but mere demons, Eusebius quotes him a good deal to show that the pagan gods were nothing but demons, that they themselves might be called magicians and astrologers, that they loved characters, and that they made their predictions of the future not from their own foreknowledge but from the stars by the art of astrology, and that like men they could not even always read the decrees of the stars aright. The belief is also mentioned that the fate foretold from the stars may be avoided by resort to magic.[1423]

Other works by Porphyry besides the Letter to Anebo are frequently cited or quoted by Eusebius in Praeparatio evangelica, especially his Περὶ τῆς ἐκ λογίων φιλοσοφίας, but Eusebius uses these extracts for his own agenda, which is to discredit pagan religion. This means they don't fully capture Porphyry's thoughts and likely don’t support his original arguments. Additionally, Eusebius highlights Porphyry's inconsistency in distinguishing the various victims meant for sacrifice to the gods of land, sea, air, and sky in the mentioned work, while in his De abstinentia a rebus animatis, Porphyry argued that beings who enjoyed animal sacrifice were not gods but mere demons. Eusebius quotes him extensively to illustrate that the pagan gods are actually demons, that they could be referred to as magicians and astrologers, that they valued symbols, and that they made future predictions not through their own foresight but through astrology based on the stars, often failing to interpret the stars' decrees accurately. There's also a belief mentioned that the fate indicated by the stars can be avoided through magic.[1423]

The Emperor Julian on theurgy and astrology.

The Emperor Julian was an enthusiastic follower of Iamblichus whom he praises[1424] in his Hymn to the Sovereign Sun delivered at the Saturnalia of 361 A. D. He also describes “the blessed theurgists” as able to comprehend unspeakable mysteries which are hidden from the crowd, such as Julian the Chaldean prophesied concerning the god[Pg 318] of the seven rays.[1425] The emperor tells us that from his youth he was regarded as over-curious (περιεργότερον, a word which almost implies the practice of magic) and as a diviner by the stars (ἀστρόμαντιν). His Hymn to the Sun contains a good deal of astrological detail, speaks of the universe as eternal and divine, and regards planets, signs, and decans as “the visible gods.” In short, “there is in the heavens a great multitude of gods.”[1426] The Sun, however, is superior to the other planets, and as Aristotle has pointed out “makes the simplest movement of all the heavenly bodies that travel in a direction opposite to the whole.”[1427] The Sun is also the link between the visible universe and the intelligible world, and Julian infers from his middle station among the planets that he is also king among the intellectual gods.[1428] For behind his visible self is the great Invisible. He frees our souls entirely from the power of “Genesis,” or the force of the stars exercised at nativity, and lifts them to the world of the pure intellect.[1429]

The Emperor Julian was an enthusiastic follower of Iamblichus, whom he praises in his Hymn to the Sovereign Sun given during the Saturnalia of 361 A.D. He also describes “the blessed theurgists” as capable of understanding unspeakable mysteries that are hidden from the masses, like those prophesied by Julian the Chaldean regarding the god of the seven rays. The emperor mentions that from a young age, he was seen as overly curious (περιεργότερον, a term that almost suggests the practice of magic) and as a diviner by the stars (ἀστρόμαντιν). His Hymn to the Sun includes a lot of astrological detail, describes the universe as eternal and divine, and views planets, signs, and decans as “the visible gods.” In short, “there is in the heavens a great multitude of gods.” However, the Sun is superior to the other planets, and as Aristotle has noted, “makes the simplest movement of all the heavenly bodies that travel in a direction opposite to the whole.” The Sun is also the connection between the visible universe and the intelligible world, and Julian concludes from his central position among the planets that he is also the king among the intellectual gods. Behind his visible self lies the great Invisible. He completely frees our souls from the influence of “Genesis,” or the power of the stars exerted at birth, and elevates them to the realm of pure intellect.

Julian and divination.

Julian believed in almost every form of pagan divination as well as in astrology. To the oracles of Apollo he ascribed the civilizing of the greater part of the world through the foundation of Greek colonies and the revelation of religious and political law.[1430] The historian Ammianus Marcellinus[1431] tells us that Julian was continually inspecting entrails of victims and interpreting dreams and omens, and that he even proposed to re-open a prophetic fountain whose predictions were supposed to have enabled Hadrian to become emperor, after which that emperor blocked it up from fear that someone else might supplant him through its instrumentality. In another passage[1432] he defends Julian from the charge of magic, saying, “Inasmuch as malicious persons have attributed the use of evil arts to learn the future to this ruler who was a learned inquirer into all branches of knowledge, we shall briefly indicate how a wise man is able[Pg 319] to acquire this by no means trivial variety of learning. The spirit behind all the elements, seeing that it is incessantly and everywhere active in the prophetic movement of perennial bodies, bestows upon us the gift of divination by the different arts which we employ; and the forces of nature, propitiated by varied rites, as from exhaustless springs provide mankind with prophetic utterances.”

Julian believed in almost every form of pagan divination as well as in astrology. He credited the oracles of Apollo with civilizing much of the world through the establishment of Greek colonies and the revelation of religious and political laws.[1430] The historian Ammianus Marcellinus[1431] tells us that Julian was always examining the entrails of sacrificial animals and interpreting dreams and omens. He even suggested reopening a prophetic fountain, which was thought to have helped Hadrian become emperor. However, Hadrian had it sealed up, fearing that someone might replace him through its predictions. In another passage[1432], he defends Julian against accusations of magic, stating, "Since envious individuals have claimed that this ruler, who was a keen seeker of knowledge in all areas, used dark arts to predict the future, we will briefly show how a wise person can acquire this not-so-simple knowledge. The spirit behind all elements, being continuously active in the prophetic movements of enduring entities, grants us the gift of divination through the various arts we use; and the forces of nature, appeased by different rituals, provide humanity with prophetic insights from endless sources."

Scientific divination.

Ammianus thus regards the arts of divination as serious sciences based upon natural forces, although of course in the characteristic Neo-Platonic way of thinking he confuses the spiritual and physical and substitutes propitiatory rites for scientific experiments. His phrase, “the prophetic movement of perennial bodies” almost certainly means the stars and shows his belief in astrology. In another passage[1433] he indicates the widespread trust in astrology among the Roman nobles of his time, the later fourth century, by saying that even those “who deny that there are superior powers in the sky,” nevertheless think it imprudent to appear in public or dine or bathe without having first consulted an almanac as to the whereabouts of Mercury or the exact position of the moon in Cancer. The passage is satirical, no doubt, but Ammianus probably objects quite as much to their disbelief in superior powers in the sky as he does to the excess of their superstition. That astrology and divination may be studied scientifically he again indicates in a description of learning at Alexandria. Besides praising the medical training to be had there, and mentioning the study of geometry, music, astronomy, and arithmetic, he says, “In addition to these subjects they cultivate the science which reveals the ways of the fates.”[1434]

Ammianus considers the arts of divination to be serious sciences based on natural forces. However, in the typical Neo-Platonic way of thinking, he mixes the spiritual and physical aspects and replaces scientific experiments with ritualistic practices. His phrase, “the prophetic movement of perennial bodies,” likely refers to the stars, reflecting his belief in astrology. In another section[1433], he points out the widespread belief in astrology among the Roman elite of his time, in the later fourth century, by noting that even those “who deny that there are superior powers in the sky,” still find it unwise to go out, eat, or bathe without first checking an almanac for the position of Mercury or the moon in Cancer. This passage is definitely satirical, but Ammianus probably disapproves just as much of their disbelief in higher powers as he does of their excessive superstition. He also suggests that astrology and divination can be studied scientifically by discussing education in Alexandria. Along with praising the medical training available there and mentioning studies in geometry, music, astronomy, and arithmetic, he states, “In addition to these subjects they cultivate the science which reveals the ways of the fates.”[1434]

Proclus on theurgy.

Iamblichus’s account of theurgy is repeated in more condensed form by Proclus (412-485) in a brief treatise or fragment which is extant only in its Latin translation by the Florentine humanist Ficinus, entitled De sacrificio et magia.[1435] Neither magic nor theurgy, however, is mentioned[Pg 320] by name in the Latin text. Proclus states that the priests of old built up their sacred science by observing the sympathy existing between natural objects and by arguing from manifest to occult powers. They saw how things on earth were associated with things in the heavens and further discovered how to bring down divine virtue to this lower world by the force of likeness which binds things together. Proclus gives several examples of plants, stones, and animals which evidence such association. The cock, for instance, is reverenced by the lion because both are under the same planet, the sun, but the cock even more so than the lion. Therefore demons who appear with the heads of lions (leonina fronte) vanish suddenly at the sight of a cock unless they chance to be demons of the solar order. After thus indicating the importance of astrology as well as occult virtue in theurgy or magic, Proclus tells how demons are invoked. Sometimes a single herb or stone “suffices for the divine work”; sometimes several substances and rites must be combined “to summon that divinity.” When they had secured the presence of the demons, the priests proceeded, partly under the instruction of the demons and partly by their own industrious interpretation of symbols, to a study of the gods. “Finally, leaving behind natural objects and forces and even to a great extent the demons, they won communion with the gods.”

Iamblichus's description of theurgy is summarized in a shorter form by Proclus (412-485) in a brief treatise or fragment that only exists in its Latin translation by the Florentine humanist Ficinus, titled De sacrificio et magia.[1435] However, neither magic nor theurgy is mentioned by name in the Latin text. Proclus explains that ancient priests developed their sacred knowledge by observing the connections between natural objects and reasoning from visible to hidden powers. They recognized how earthly things were linked to celestial ones and discovered how to draw down divine power to this lower world through the principle of similarity that unites things. Proclus provides several examples of plants, stones, and animals that illustrate this connection. For instance, the lion respects the rooster because both are influenced by the sun, but the rooster even more so than the lion. Consequently, demons that appear with lion heads (leonina fronte) suddenly disappear at the sight of a rooster, unless they happen to be demons of the solar order. After highlighting the significance of astrology and hidden power in theurgy or magic, Proclus explains how demons are called forth. Sometimes a single herb or stone "is enough for the divine work"; other times, several substances and rituals must be combined "to summon that divinity." Once they had secured the demons' presence, the priests moved forward, partly guided by the demons and partly through their own diligent interpretation of symbols, to study the gods. "Ultimately, leaving behind natural objects and forces, and even mostly the demons, they achieved communion with the gods."

Neo-Platonic account of magic borrowed by Christians.

Despite the writings of Porphyry and other Neo-Platonists against Christianity, much use was made by Christian theologians of the fourth and fifth centuries of the Neo-Platonic accounts of magic, astrology, and divination, especially of Porphyry’s Letter to Anebo. Eusebius in his Praeparatio Evangelica[1436] made large extracts from it on these themes and also from Porphyry’s work on the Chaldean oracles. Augustine in The City of God[1437] accepted Por[Pg 321]phyry as an authority on the subjects of theurgy and magic. On the other hand, we do not find the Christian writers repeating the attitude of Plotinus that the life of reason is alone free from magic, except as they substitute the word “Christianity” for “the life of reason.”

Despite the writings of Porphyry and other Neo-Platonists against Christianity, Christian theologians in the fourth and fifth centuries heavily relied on Neo-Platonic discussions of magic, astrology, and divination, especially Porphyry’s Letter to Anebo. Eusebius, in his Praeparatio Evangelica[1436], included extensive excerpts on these topics, as well as from Porphyry’s work on the Chaldean oracles. Augustine in The City of God[1437] regarded Porphyry as an authority on the subjects of theurgy and magic. Conversely, we don't see Christian writers echoing Plotinus’ view that only a life of reason is free from magic, except that they replace the term “the life of reason” with “Christianity.”

Neo-Platonists and alchemy.

The Neo-Platonists showed some interest in alchemy as well as in theurgy and astrology. Berthelot published in his Collection des Alchimistes Grecs “a little tract of positive chemistry” which is extant under the name of Iamblichus; and Proclus treated of the relations between the metals and planets and the generation of the metals under the influence of the stars.[1438] Of Synesius, who was both a Neo-Platonist and a Christian bishop, and who seems to have written works of alchemy, we shall treat in a later chapter.

The Neo-Platonists were interested in alchemy, theurgy, and astrology. Berthelot published a “brief piece of practical chemistry” in his Collection des Alchimistes Grecs that is still available today under the name of Iamblichus. Proclus discussed the connections between metals and planets and how metals are generated under the influence of stars.[1438] We will cover Synesius, who was both a Neo-Platonist and a Christian bishop and appears to have written works on alchemy, in a later chapter.


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CHAPTER XII
AELIAN, SOLINUS AND HORAPOLLO

Aelian On the Nature of Animals—General character of the work—Its hodge-podge of unclassified detail—Solinus in the middle ages—His date—General character of his work; its relation to Pliny—Animals and gems—Occult medicine—Democritus and Zoroaster not regarded as magicians—Some bits of astrology—Alexander the Great—The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo—Marvels of animals—Animals and astrology—The cynocephalus—Horapollo the cosmopolitan.

Aelian On the Nature of Animals—Overview of the work—Its mix of unorganized details—Solinus during the Middle Ages—His timeline—Overall tone of his work; its connection to Pliny—Animals and gemstones—Occult healing—Democritus and Zoroaster not seen as magicians—A few pieces on astrology—Alexander the Great—The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo—Wonders of animals—Animals and astrology—The cynocephalus—Horapollo, the cosmopolitan.

Aelian On the Nature of Animals.

From mystic and theurgic compositions we return to works of the declining Roman Empire which deal more directly with nature but, it must be confessed, in a manner somewhat fantastic. About the beginning of the third century, Aelian of Praeneste, who is included by Philostratus in his Lives of the Sophists, wrote On the Nature of Animals.[1439] Its seventeen books, written in Greek, which Aelian used fluently despite his Latin birth, are believed to have reached us partly in interpolated form through two families of manuscripts, of which the older and less interpolated text is found in a thirteenth century manuscript at Paris and a somewhat earlier Vatican codex.[1440] A number of its chapters are similar to and perhaps borrowed from Pliny’s Natural History; at any rate they are commonplaces of ancient science; but the work also has a marked individuality. Parallels have also been noted between this work and the later Hexaemeron of the church father Basil. Aelian was much cited in Byzantine literature and learning, and if he was not directly used in the Latin west, at least the attitude[Pg 323] toward animals which he displays and his selection of material concerning them are as apt precursors of medieval Latin as of medieval Greek scientific literature.

From mystical and theurgic writings, we turn to works from the declining Roman Empire that focus more on nature, though it must be admitted, in a somewhat fantastical way. Around the beginning of the third century, Aelian of Praeneste, who is mentioned by Philostratus in his Lives of the Sophists, wrote On the Nature of Animals.[1439] Its seventeen books, written in Greek—a language Aelian spoke fluently despite his Latin origins—are thought to have reached us in part through two families of manuscripts, with the older, less altered text found in a thirteenth-century manuscript in Paris and an earlier Vatican codex.[1440] Some chapters are similar to and possibly borrowed from Pliny’s Natural History; they represent common themes in ancient science; however, the work also shows a distinct individuality. Similarities have also been noted between this work and Basil's later Hexaemeron. Aelian was frequently referenced in Byzantine literature and scholarship, and while he may not have been directly used in the Latin West, the perspective he presents towards animals and his selection of material concerning them serve as important precursors to both medieval Latin and medieval Greek scientific literature.

General character of the work.

In preface and epilogue Aelian himself adequately indicates the character of his work. He is impressed by the customs and characteristics of animals, and marvels at their wisdom and native shrewdness, their justice and modesty, their affection and piety, which should put human beings to blush. Thus Aelian’s work is marked by that tendency which runs through ancient and medieval literature to admire actions in the irrational brutes which seem to indicate almost human intelligence and virtue on their part, and to moralize therefrom at the expense of human beings. Another striking feature of his work is its utterly whimsical and haphazard order. He mentions things simply as they happen to occur to him. This fact, too, he recognizes, but refuses to apologize for, stating that it suits him, if it does not suit anyone else, and that he regards a mixed-up order as more motley, variegated, and pleasing. Not only does he attempt no classification whatever of his animals and mention snakes and quadrupeds and birds in the same breath; he also does not complete the treatment of a given animal in one passage but may scatter detached items about it throughout his work. There is, for instance, probably at least one chapter concerning elephants in each of his seventeen books.

In the preface and conclusion, Aelian clearly shows the nature of his work. He is fascinated by the habits and traits of animals, and he is amazed by their intelligence and instinct, their fairness and humility, their love and devotion, which should make humans feel ashamed. Aelian’s work reflects the tendency in ancient and medieval literature to admire behaviors in animals that seem to demonstrate almost human-like intelligence and morality, leading to moral lessons at the expense of humanity. Another notable aspect of his work is its completely random and chaotic structure. He discusses things as they come to his mind. He acknowledges this but refuses to apologize, stating that it works for him, even if it doesn’t work for others, and he believes that a mixed-up structure is more colorful, diverse, and enjoyable. Not only does he make no effort to categorize his animals—mentioning snakes, four-legged creatures, and birds all in the same context—but he also does not finish discussing a particular animal in one section; instead, he may spread related details throughout his writings. For example, there is likely at least one chapter about elephants in each of his seventeen books.

Its hodge-podge of unclassified detail.

It would therefore be absurd for us to attempt any logical arrangement in discussing his contents; we may do justice to him most adequately by adopting his own lack of method and noting a few items and topics taken more or less at random from his work. Ants never go out in the new moon. Yet they neither gaze at the sky, nor count the number of days on their fingers, like the learned Babylonians and Chaldeans, but have this marvelous gift from nature.[1441] In sexual intercourse the female viper conceives through the mouth and bites off the head of the male; afterwards her young gnaw their way out of her vitals. “What have your[Pg 324] Oresteses and Alcmaeons to say to that, my dear tragedians?”[1442] Doves put laurel boughs in their nests to guard against fascination and the evil eye, and the hoopoe similarly employs ἀδίαvτον or καλλίτριχον as an amulet;[1443] and other unreasoning animals guard against sorcery by some mystic and marvelous natural power. Another chapter treats of divinations from the crow and how hairs are dyed black with its eggs.[1444] Others tell us of the generation of serpents from the marrow of a dead man’s spine,[1445] and of venomous women like Medea and Circe who are worse than the asp with its incurable sting, since they kill by mere touch.[1446]

It would be ridiculous for us to try to organize our discussion of his content logically. We can best do justice to him by embracing his lack of method and randomly noting a few items and topics from his work. Ants never come out during the new moon. However, they don’t look at the sky or count the days like the learned Babylonians and Chaldeans; instead, they have this incredible gift from nature. In sexual intercourse, the female viper conceives through the mouth and bites off the head of the male; then her young gnaw their way out of her body. “What do your Oresteses and Alcmaeons have to say about that, my dear tragedians?” Doves place laurel boughs in their nests to protect against charms and the evil eye, and the hoopoe also uses ἀδίαvτον or καλλίτριχον as a charm; and other creatures protect themselves against sorcery through some strange and wonderful natural ability. Another chapter discusses divinations from the crow and how hairs are dyed black with its eggs. Others tell us that serpents are generated from the marrow of a dead man's spine, and of venomous women like Medea and Circe who are worse than the asp with its incurable sting, since they kill just by touching.

We go on to read of swift little beasts called Pyrigoni who are generated from fire and live in it, of salamanders who extinguish flames, of the remedies used by the tortoise against snakes, of the chastity of doves whose marriages never result in divorce, and of the incontinence of the partridge.[1447] Also of the jealousies of certain animals like the stag which hides its right horn, the lizard who devours its cast-off skin, and the mare who eats the hippomanes from its colt, lest men obtain these precious substances.[1448] Of the care taken by storks, herons, and pelicans of their aged parents.[1449] How the swallow by the virtue of an herb gives sight to its young who are born blind, and how a hoopoe found an herb whose virtue dissolved the mud with which the caretaker of a building had plugged up the hole in the wall which it used for its nest.[1450] How the lion and basilisk fear the cock, and of a lake without fish in a place where the cocks do not crow.[1451]

We read about quick little creatures called Pyrigoni that are born from fire and live in it, about salamanders that put out flames, about the ways tortoises defend themselves against snakes, about the fidelity of doves whose marriages never end in divorce, and about the promiscuity of the partridge.[1447] We also learn about the jealousies of certain animals like the stag that hides its right antler, the lizard that eats its shed skin, and the mare that consumes the hippomanes from its foal to prevent humans from getting these valuable substances.[1448] We hear about the care storks, herons, and pelicans show toward their elderly parents.[1449] We learn how the swallow, through an herb, gives sight to its young that are born blind, and about how a hoopoe discovered an herb that dissolved the mud the caretaker had used to seal the hole in the wall that it used for its nest.[1450] We find out how the lion and basilisk are afraid of the rooster, and about a lake that has no fish in a place where roosters don’t crow.[1451]

How elephants venerate the waxing moon; how the weasel eats rue when about to fight the snake; and of the jeal[Pg 325]ousy of the hedgehog and lynx, the latter concealing his precious urine, the other watering his own hide when he is captured in order to spoil it.[1452] How the Indians fight griffins when collecting gold.[1453] How the presence of a cock aids a woman’s delivery.[1454] Of unnamed beasts in Libya who know how to count and leave an eleventh part of their prey untouched.[1455] That the sea dragon is easily captured with the left hand but not with the right.[1456] Dragons know the force of herbs and cure themselves with some and increase their venom with others.[1457] How dogs, cows, and other animals sense a famine or plague beforehand.[1458] How the Egyptians by their magic charm birds from the sky and snakes from their holes.[1459] When it rains in Egypt, mice are born from the small drops and plague the country. Traps and fences and ditches are of no avail against them, as they can leap over trenches and walls. Consequently the Egyptians are forced to pray God to end the calamity,[1460]—an interesting variant on the Old Testament account of the plagues of Egypt.

How elephants honor the waxing moon; how the weasel eats rue when preparing to battle the snake; and the jealousy of the hedgehog and lynx, the latter hiding his valuable urine, the former watering his own skin when caught to spoil it. [1452] How Indians fight griffins when gathering gold. [1453] How having a rooster around helps a woman during childbirth. [1454] Of unnamed creatures in Libya who can count and leave one-tenth of their prey untouched. [1455] That the sea dragon is easily caught with the left hand but not with the right. [1456] Dragons understand the power of herbs and heal themselves with some while increasing their venom with others. [1457] How dogs, cows, and other animals sense a famine or plague before it happens. [1458] How the Egyptians use their magic to charm birds from the sky and snakes from their holes. [1459] When it rains in Egypt, mice are born from the tiny droplets and plague the land. Traps, fences, and ditches are useless against them, as they can jump over trenches and walls. As a result, the Egyptians have to pray to God to end the disaster, [1460]—an interesting twist on the Old Testament story of the plagues of Egypt.

In dogs there exists a certain dialectical faculty of ratiocination.[1461] The weather may be predicted from birds, quadrupeds, and flies.[1462] The she-goat can cure suffusion of its eyes.[1463] Eagles drop tortoises on rocks to break their shells and the bald-headed poet Aeschylus met his death by having his pate mistaken thus for a smooth round stone.[1464] Some predict the future by birds, others by entrails, or by grains, sieves, and cheeses; the Lycians practice divination by fish.[1465] A stork whom a widow of Tarentum helped when it was too young to fly brought her a luminous precious stone the following year.[1466] Solon did not have to enact a law ordering[Pg 326] children to support their aged parents in the case of lions, whose cubs are taught by nature filial piety toward their elders.[1467] Only the horn of the Scythian ass can hold the water of the Arcadian river Styx; Alexander the Great sent a sample of it to Delphi with some accompanying verses which Aelian quotes.[1468] In Epirus dragons sacred to Apollo are employed in divination, and in the Lavinian Grove dragons spit out again the frumenty offered them by unchaste virgins.[1469] By flying beneath it an eagle saved the life of its young one who had been thrown down from a tower.[1470] Different fish eat different sea herbs.[1471] There are fish who live in boiling water.[1472] There are scattered mentions of the marvels of India throughout Aelian’s work, and in his sixteenth book the first fourteen chapters are almost exclusively concerned with the animals of that land.

In dogs, there's a certain reasoning ability. The weather can be predicted by observing birds, quadrupeds, and flies. The she-goat can cure its eye problems. Eagles drop tortoises on rocks to crack their shells, and the bald poet Aeschylus died because his head was mistaken for a smooth round stone. Some people predict the future using birds, others by looking at entrails, grains, sieves, and cheeses; the Lycians practice divination with fish. A stork that a widow from Tarentum helped while it was still too young to fly returned to her with a shining precious stone the next year. Solon didn’t need to create a law requiring children to care for their elderly parents, unlike lions, whose cubs are naturally taught to honor their parents. Only the horn of the Scythian donkey can hold the water from the Arcadian river Styx; Alexander the Great sent a sample of it to Delphi along with some verses that Aelian quotes. In Epirus, dragons sacred to Apollo are used for divination, and in the Lavinian Grove, dragons spit out the frumenty offered to them by unchaste virgins. An eagle saved its young one by flying beneath it after the chick was thrown from a tower. Different fish eat different sea plants. There are fish that can live in boiling water. Aelian’s work has scattered mentions of the wonders of India, and in his sixteenth book, the first fourteen chapters are almost entirely focused on the animals from that land.

Solinus in the middle ages.

A well-known work in the middle ages dating from the period of the Roman Empire was the Collectanea rerum memorabilium or Polyhistor of Solinus. Mommsen’s edition lists 153 manuscripts from 32 places,[1473] and we shall find many citations of Solinus in our later medieval authors. Martianus Capella and Isidore were the first to make extensive use of his work. In the thirteenth century Albertus Magnus had little respect for Solinus as an authority and expressed more than once the quite accurate opinion that his work was full of lies. Nevertheless copies of it continued to abound in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and by 1554 five printed editions had appeared. “From it directly come most of the fables in works of object so different as those of Dicuil, Isidore, Capella, and Priscian.”[1474]

A well-known work from the Middle Ages, dating back to the Roman Empire, was the Collectanea rerum memorabilium or Polyhistor by Solinus. Mommsen’s edition lists 153 manuscripts from 32 locations, [1473], and we'll see many references to Solinus in later medieval authors. Martianus Capella and Isidore were the first to extensively use his work. In the thirteenth century, Albertus Magnus had little regard for Solinus as an authority and frequently noted the quite accurate opinion that his work was full of falsehoods. Nevertheless, copies continued to be plentiful in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and by 1554, five printed editions had been released. “From it directly come most of the fables in works of such different subjects as those of Dicuil, Isidore, Capella, and Priscian.” [1474]

His date.

The first extant author to make use of Solinus is Augustine in The City of God, while he is first named in the Genealogus of 455 A. D. None of the manuscripts of the work[Pg 327] antedate the ninth century, but many of them have copied an earlier subscription from a manuscript written “by the zeal and diligence of our lord Theodosius, the unconquered prince.” This is taken to refer to the emperor Theodosius II, 401-450. The work itself, however, has no Christian characteristics; on the contrary it is very fond of mentioning places famed in pagan religion and Greek mythology and of recounting miracles and marvels connected with heathen shrines and rites. Indeed, Solinus seldom, if ever, mentions anything later than the first century of our era. He speaks of Byzantium, not of Constantinople, and makes no mention of the Roman provinces as divided in the system of Diocletian. His book, however, is a compilation from earlier writings so that we need not expect allusions to his own age. The Latin style and general literary make-up of the work are characteristic of the declining empire and early medieval period. Mommsen was inclined to date Solinus in the third rather than the fourth century, but the work seems to have been revised about the sixth century, after which date it became customary to call it the Polyhistor rather than the Collectanea rerum memorabilium. It is also referred to, however, as De mirabilibus mundi, or Wonders of the World.

The first known author to reference Solinus is Augustine in The City of God, while he is first mentioned in the Genealogus from 455 A.D. None of the existing manuscripts of the work date back earlier than the ninth century, but many of them have copied an earlier note from a manuscript written “by the zeal and diligence of our lord Theodosius, the unconquered prince.” This likely refers to Emperor Theodosius II, who reigned from 401 to 450. However, the work itself has no Christian elements; instead, it often highlights places known for their pagan worship and Greek mythology, recounting miracles and wonders associated with pagan shrines and rituals. In fact, Solinus rarely, if ever, refers to anything later than the first century A.D. He refers to Byzantium, not Constantinople, and does not mention the Roman provinces as divided according to Diocletian's system. His book is a compilation of earlier writings, so we shouldn't expect references to his own time. The Latin style and overall literary structure of the work reflect the declining empire and early medieval period. Mommsen believed Solinus should be dated to the third century rather than the fourth, but the work seems to have been revised around the sixth century, after which it became common to call it the Polyhistor instead of the Collectanea rerum memorabilium. It is also referred to as De mirabilibus mundi, or Wonders of the World.

General character of his work: its relation to Pliny.

The work is primarily a geography and is arranged by countries and places, beginning with Rome and Italy. As each locality is considered, Solinus sometimes tells a little of its history, but is especially inclined to recount miraculous religious events or natural marvels associated with that particular region. Thus in describing two lakes he rather apologizes for mentioning the first at all because it can scarcely be called miraculous, but assures us that the second “is regarded as very extraordinary.”[1475] Sometimes he digresses to other topics such as calendar reform.[1476] Solinus draws both his geographical data and further details very largely from Pliny’s Natural History; but inasmuch as Pliny treated of these matters in separate books, Solinus has[Pg 328] to re-organize the material. He also selects simply a few particulars from Pliny’s wealth of detail on any given subject, and furthermore considerably alters Pliny’s wording, sometimes condensing the thought, sometimes amplifying the phraseology—apparently in an effort to make the point clearer and easier reading. Of Pliny’s thirty-seven books only those from the third to the thirteenth inclusive and the last book are used to any extent by Solinus. That is to say, he either was acquainted with only, or confined himself to, those books dealing with geography, man and other animals, and gems, omitting almost entirely, except for the twelfth and thirteenth books, Pliny’s elaborate treatment of vegetation and of medicinal simples[1477] and discussion of metals and the fine arts. Solinus does not acknowledge his great debt to Pliny in particular, although he keeps alluding to the fulness with which everything has already been discussed by past authors, and although he cites other writers who are almost unknown to us. Of his known sources Pomponius Mela is the chief after Pliny but is used much less. On the other hand, the number of passages for which Mommsen was unable to give any source is not inconsiderable. As may have been already inferred, the work of Solinus is brief; the text alone would scarcely fill one hundred pages.[1478]

The work is mainly a geography book organized by countries and places, starting with Rome and Italy. As Solinus discusses each location, he occasionally shares a bit of its history but is particularly focused on recounting miraculous religious events or natural wonders associated with that area. For instance, when describing two lakes, he surprisingly downplays the first one, arguing it's not really miraculous, but assures us that the second “is considered very extraordinary.” [1475] Sometimes he veers off into other topics like calendar reform.[1476] Solinus extensively borrows his geographical information and additional details from Pliny’s Natural History; however, since Pliny covered these topics in separate books, Solinus has[Pg 328] to reorganize the material. He also selects just a few details from Pliny’s extensive knowledge on any subject and significantly changes Pliny’s wording, sometimes simplifying the ideas and sometimes expanding the phrases—likely to make the content clearer and easier to read. Out of Pliny’s thirty-seven books, Solinus primarily relies on those from the third to the thirteenth and the last book. This means he either only knew those books related to geography, humans, other animals, and gems, while almost completely omitting Pliny’s in-depth discussions on plants and medicinal herbs[1477] as well as his insights on metals and the fine arts. Solinus doesn't explicitly acknowledge how much he depends on Pliny, although he frequently hints at how thoroughly earlier authors have covered these topics, and mentions other writers who are nearly unknown to us. Among his known sources, Pomponius Mela is the main one after Pliny, but he is referenced much less. On the other hand, there are quite a few sections for which Mommsen could not identify any source. As might already be guessed, Solinus's work is concise; the text alone would hardly fill one hundred pages.[1478]

Animals and gems.

It would perhaps be rash to conjecture which quality commended the book most to the following period: its handy size, or its easy style and fairly systematic arrangement, or its emphasis upon marvels. The last characteristic is at least the most germane to our investigation. Solinus rendered the service, if we may so term it, of reducing Pliny’s treatment of animals and precious stones in particular to a few common examples, which either were already the best known or became so as a result of his selection. Indeed, King was of the opinion that the descriptions of gems in Solinus were more precise, technical, and systematic than[Pg 329] those in Pliny, and found his notices “often extremely useful.”[1479] Solinus describes such animals as the wolf, lynx, bear, lion, hyena, onager or wild ass, basilisk, crocodile, hippopotamus, phoenix, dolphin, and chameleon; and recounts the marvelous properties of such gems as achates or agate, galactites, catochites, crystal, gagates, adamant, heliotrope, hyacinth, and paeanites. The dragons of India and Ethiopia also occupy his attention, as they did that of Philostratus in the Life of Apollonius of Tyana; indeed, he repeats in different words the statement found in Philostratus that they swim far out to sea.[1480] In Sardinia, on the contrary, there are no snakes, but a poisonous ant exists there. Fortunately there are also healing waters there with which to counteract its venom, but there is also native to Sardinia an herb called Sardonia which causes those who eat it to die of laughter.[1481]

It might be a bit hasty to guess which aspect made the book most appealing to the next generation: its small size, its straightforward style and organized layout, or its focus on wonders. The last trait is definitely the most relevant to our study. Solinus helped by summarizing Pliny's discussions on animals and precious stones into a few recognizable examples, which were either already well-known or became so thanks to his choices. In fact, King believed that Solinus's descriptions of gems were more detailed, technical, and organized than those in Pliny, finding his insights “often extremely useful.”[1479] Solinus talks about animals like the wolf, lynx, bear, lion, hyena, wild ass, basilisk, crocodile, hippopotamus, phoenix, dolphin, and chameleon; he also shares the fascinating qualities of gems like agate, galactites, catochites, crystal, gagates, diamond, heliotrope, hyacinth, and paeanites. He also focuses on the dragons of India and Ethiopia, echoing Philostratus in the Life of Apollonius of Tyana, as he paraphrases Philostratus’s claim that they swim far out to sea.[1480] In Sardinia, however, there are no snakes, but there is a poisonous ant. Fortunately, there are healing waters that can counteract its venom, but there is also a local plant called Sardonia that causes anyone who eats it to die from laughter.[1481]

Occult medicine.

Although Solinus makes no use of Pliny’s medical books, he shows considerable interest in the healing properties of simples and in medicine. He tells us that those who slept in the shrine of Aesculapius at Epidaurus were warned in dreams how to heal their diseases,[1482] and that the third daughter of Aeetes, named Angitia, devoted herself “to resisting disease by the salubrious science” of medicine.[1483] According to Solinus Circe as well as Medea was a daughter of Aeetes, but usually in Greek mythology she is represented as his sister.

Although Solinus doesn't reference Pliny’s medical texts, he shows a strong interest in the healing properties of herbal remedies and medicine. He mentions that those who slept in the shrine of Aesculapius at Epidaurus were given dreams that guided them on how to cure their illnesses,[1482] and that the third daughter of Aeetes, named Angitia, dedicated herself “to fighting disease through the beneficial science” of medicine.[1483] According to Solinus, both Circe and Medea were daughters of Aeetes, but in most Greek myths, she is typically described as his sister.

[Pg 330]

[Pg 330]

Democritus and Zoroaster not regarded as magicians.

This allusion to Circe and Medea shows that magic, to which medicine and pharmacy are apparently akin, does not pass unnoticed in Solinus’s page. He copies from Mela the account of the periodical transformation of the Neuri into wolves.[1484] But instead of accusing Democritus of having employed magic, as Pliny does, Solinus represents him as engaging in contests with the Magi, in which he made frequent use of the stone catochites in order to demonstrate the occult power of nature.[1485] That is to say, Democritus was apparently opposing science to magic and showing that all the latter’s feats could be duplicated or improved upon by employing natural forces. In two other passages[1486] Solinus calls Democritus physicus, or scientist, and affirms that his birth in Abdera did more to make that town famous than any other thing connected with it, despite the fact that it was founded by and named after the sister of Diomedes. Zoroaster, too, whom Pliny called the founder of the magic art, is not spoken of as a magician by Solinus, although he is mentioned three times and is described as “most skilled in the best arts,” and is cited concerning the power of coral and of the gem aetites.[1487]

This reference to Circe and Medea indicates that magic, which is apparently related to medicine and pharmacy, does not go unnoticed in Solinus’s writings. He takes from Mela the description of the Neuri transforming into wolves periodically. But instead of accusing Democritus of using magic, like Pliny does, Solinus portrays him as competing with the Magi, frequently using the stone catochites to showcase the hidden powers of nature. In other words, Democritus seemed to be contrasting science with magic, demonstrating that all the magical feats could be replicated or enhanced by using natural forces. In two other sections, Solinus refers to Democritus as a scientist and states that his birth in Abdera brought more fame to the town than anything else associated with it, despite it being founded by and named after Diomedes’s sister. Zoroaster, whom Pliny referred to as the founder of magic, is not labeled as a magician by Solinus, even though he is mentioned three times and called “most skilled in the best arts,” and is referenced regarding the power of coral and the gem aetites.

Some bits of astrology.

It is not part of Solinus’s plan to describe the heavens, but he occasionally alludes to “the discipline of the stars,”[1488] as he calls astronomy or astrology. On the authority of L. Tarrutius, “most renowned of astrologers,”[1489] he tells us that the foundations of the walls of Rome were laid by Romulus in his twenty-second year on the eleventh day of the kalends of May between the second and third hours, when Jupiter was in Pisces, the sun in Taurus, the moon in Libra, and the other four planets in the sign of the scorpion. He also[Pg 331] speaks of the star Arcturus destroying the Argive fleet off Euboea on its return from Ilium.[1490]

It’s not part of Solinus’s plan to describe the heavens, but he occasionally mentions “the discipline of the stars,”[1488] referring to astronomy or astrology. Based on the authority of L. Tarrutius, “most renowned of astrologers,”[1489] he tells us that the foundations of the walls of Rome were laid by Romulus in his twenty-second year on the eleventh day of the kalends of May between the second and third hours, when Jupiter was in Pisces, the sun in Taurus, the moon in Libra, and the other four planets were in the sign of Scorpio. He also[Pg 331] mentions the star Arcturus destroying the Argive fleet off Euboea on its return from Ilium.[1490]

Alexander the Great.

Alexander the Great figures prominently in the pages of Alexander Solinus, being mentioned a score of times, and this too corresponds to the medieval interest in the Macedonian conqueror. Stories concerning him are repeated from Pliny, but Solinus also displays further information. He insists that Philip was truly his father, although he adds that Olympias strove to acquire a nobler father for him, when she affirmed that she had had intercourse with a dragon, and that Alexander tried to have himself considered of divine descent.[1491] The statement concerning Olympias suggests the story of Nectanebus, of which a later chapter will treat, but that individual is not mentioned, although Aristotle and Callisthenes are spoken of as Alexander’s tutors, so that it is doubtful if Solinus was acquainted with the Pseudo-Callisthenes. He describes Alexander’s line of march with fair accuracy and not in the totally incorrect manner of the Pseudo-Callisthenes.

Alexander the Great is a big focus in the writings of Alexander Solinus, mentioned numerous times, reflecting the medieval fascination with the Macedonian conqueror. Stories about him are repeated from Pliny, but Solinus also offers additional details. He firmly states that Philip was truly his father, though he adds that Olympias tried to claim a more prestigious lineage for him by saying she had slept with a dragon, and that Alexander sought to be seen as having divine ancestry. The mention of Olympias hints at the story of Nectanebus, which will be explored in a later chapter, but that figure isn’t named, even though Aristotle and Callisthenes are noted as Alexander’s teachers. This raises doubts about whether Solinus was familiar with the Pseudo-Callisthenes. He accurately describes Alexander’s route and does so much more correctly than the Pseudo-Callisthenes.

The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo.

In seeking a third text and author of the same type as Aelian and Solinus to round out the present chapter, our choice unhesitatingly falls upon the Hieroglyphics of Horapollo, a work which pretends to explain the meaning of the written symbols employed by the ancient Egyptian priests, but which is really principally concerned with the same marvelous habits and properties of animals of which Aelian treated. In brief the idea is that these characteristics of animals must be known in order to comprehend the significance of the animal figures in the ancient hieroglyphic writing. Horapollo is supposed to have written in the Egyptian language in perhaps the fourth or fifth century of our era,[1492] but his work is extant only in the Greek translation of it made by a Philip who lived a century or two later and who seems to have made some additions of his own.[1493]

In looking for a third text and author similar to Aelian and Solinus to complete this chapter, we confidently choose the Hieroglyphics by Horapollo. This work claims to explain the meanings of the written symbols used by ancient Egyptian priests, but it mainly focuses on the fascinating habits and characteristics of animals that Aelian discussed. Essentially, the idea is that understanding these animal traits is necessary to grasp the significance of the animal figures in ancient hieroglyphic writing. Horapollo is believed to have written in Egyptian during the fourth or fifth century of our era,[1492] but his work only survives in a Greek translation by a Philip who lived a century or two later and who appears to have added some of his own material.[1493]

[Pg 332]

[Pg 332]

Marvels of animals.

The zoology of Horapollo is for the most part not novel, but repeats the same erroneous notions that may be found in Aristotle’s History of Animals, Pliny’s Natural History, Aelian, and other ancient authors. Again we hear of the basilisk’s fatal breath, of the beaver’s discarded testicles, of the unnatural methods of conception of the weasel and viper, of the bear’s licking its cubs into shape, of the kindness of storks to their parents, of wasps generated from a dead horse, of the phoenix, of the swan’s song, of the sick lion’s eating an ape to cure himself, of the bull tamed by tying it to the branch of a wild fig tree, of the elephant’s fear of a ram or a dog and how it buries its tusks.[1494] Less familiar perhaps are the assertions that the mare miscarries, if she merely treads on a wolf’s tracks;[1495] that the pigeon cures itself by placing laurel in its nest;[1496] that putting the wings of a bat on an ant-hill will prevent the ants from coming out.[1497] The statement that if the hyena, when hunted, turns to the right, it will slay its pursuer, while if it turns to the left, it will be slain by him, is also found in Pliny.[1498] But his long enumeration of virtues ascribed to parts of the hyena by the Magi does not include the assertion in Horapollo’s next chapter[1499] that a man girded with a hyena skin can pass through the ranks of his enemies without injury, although it ascribes somewhat similar virtues to the animal’s skin. In Horapollo it is the hawk rather than the eagle which surpasses other winged creatures in its ability to gaze at the sun; hence physicians use the hawkweed in eye-cures.[1500]

The zoology of Horapollo mostly isn't original but repeats the same mistaken ideas found in Aristotle’s History of Animals, Pliny’s Natural History, Aelian, and other ancient writers. We still hear about the basilisk’s deadly breath, the beaver's discarded testicles, the strange ways the weasel and viper reproduce, the bear licking its cubs into shape, the storks taking care of their parents, wasps coming from a dead horse, the phoenix, the swan’s song, the sick lion eating an ape to heal itself, the bull being tamed by tying it to a wild fig tree, and the elephant’s fear of a ram or a dog and how it buries its tusks. Less well-known are the claims that a mare will miscarry if she steps on a wolf’s tracks, that a pigeon heals itself by putting laurel in its nest, and that placing bat wings on an ant hill will stop the ants from coming out. The claim that if a hyena turns to the right while being hunted, it will kill its pursuer, but if it turns to the left, it will be killed, is also in Pliny. However, his long list of virtues given to parts of the hyena by the Magi doesn’t mention the claim in Horapollo’s next chapter that a person wearing a hyena skin can pass through enemy ranks unharmed, even though it does attribute somewhat similar virtues to the animal's skin. In Horapollo, it's the hawk, not the eagle, that stands out among other birds for its ability to look at the sun; hence, physicians use hawkweed in eye treatments.

[Pg 333]

[Pg 333]

Animals and astrology.

Animals also serve as astronomical or astrological symbols in the system of hieroglyphic writing as interpreted by Horapollo. Not only does a palm tree represent the year because it puts forth a new branch every new moon,[1501] but the phoenix denotes the magnus annus in the course of which the heavenly bodies complete their revolutions.[1502] The scarab rolls his ball of dung from east to west and gives it the shape of the universe.[1503] He buries it for twenty-eight days conformably to the course of the moon through the zodiac, but he has thirty toes to correspond to the days of the month. As there is no female scarab, so there is no male vulture. The female vulture symbolizes the Egyptian year by spending five days in conceiving by the wind, one hundred and twenty in pregnancy, the same period in rearing its young, and the remaining one hundred and twenty days in preparing itself to repeat the process.[1504] The vulture also visits battlefields seven days in advance and by the direction of its glance indicates which army will be defeated.

Animals also act as astronomical or astrological symbols in the hieroglyphic writing system as explained by Horapollo. A palm tree represents the year because it grows a new branch every new moon,[1501] and the phoenix signifies the magnus annus, during which the heavenly bodies complete their orbits.[1502] The scarab rolls its ball of dung from east to west, shaping it like the universe.[1503] It buries it for twenty-eight days, following the moon's path through the zodiac, but it has thirty toes corresponding to the days of the month. Since there is no female scarab, there is also no male vulture. The female vulture represents the Egyptian year by spending five days conceiving by the wind, one hundred and twenty days pregnant, the same length of time raising its young, and the last one hundred and twenty days getting ready to start the process again.[1504] The vulture also checks battlefields seven days ahead and, by the direction of its gaze, shows which army will lose.

The cynocephalus.

The cynocephalus, dog-headed ape, or baboon, was mentioned several times by Pliny, but Horapollo gives more specific information concerning it, chiefly of an astrological character. It is born circumcised and is reared in temples in order to learn from it the exact hour of lunar eclipses, at which times it neither sees nor eats, while the female ex genitalibus sanguinem emittit. The cynocephalus represents the inhabitable world which has seventy-two primitive parts, because the animal dies and is buried piecemeal by the priests during a period of as many days, until at the end of the seventy-second day life has entirely departed from the last remnant of its carcass.[1505] The cynocephalus not only marks the time of eclipses but at the equinoxes makes water twelve times by day and by night, marking off the hours; hence a figure of it is carved by the Egyptians on their water-clocks.[1506] Horapollo associates together the god of the universe and fate and the stars which are five in number, for he believes[Pg 334] that five planets carry out the economy of the universe and that they are subject to God’s government.[1507]

The cynocephalus, or dog-headed ape, was mentioned several times by Pliny, but Horapollo provides more specific details, especially from an astrological perspective. It is born circumcised and is raised in temples to determine the exact time of lunar eclipses; during these events, it neither sees nor eats, while the female ex genitalibus sanguinem emittit. The cynocephalus symbolizes the habitable world, which has seventy-two fundamental parts, because the animal dies and is buried piece by piece by the priests over a span of as many days, until, by the end of the seventy-second day, life is completely gone from the last remnant of its body. [1505] The cynocephalus not only indicates eclipse timings but also, during the equinoxes, creates water twelve times a day and night, marking off the hours; hence, a figure of it is carved by the Egyptians on their water clocks. [1506] Horapollo connects the god of the universe with fate and the five stars, as he believes [Pg 334] that five planets govern the universe's order and that they are under God's authority. [1507]

Horapollo the cosmopolitan.

Horapollo cannot be given high rank either as a zoologist and astronomer, or a philologer and archaeologist; but at least he was no narrow nationalist and had some respect for history. The Egyptians, he says, “denote a man who has never left his own country by a human figure with the head of an ass, because he neither hears any history nor knows of what is going on abroad.”[1508]

Horapollo can't be considered a top expert in zoology, astronomy, philology, or archaeology; however, he wasn't a narrow-minded nationalist and showed some respect for history. He states that Egyptians represent a person who has never left his own country with a human figure that has the head of a donkey, because such a person neither hears any history nor knows what's happening elsewhere.


[Pg 335]

[Pg 335]

BOOK II. EARLY CHRISTIAN THOUGHT

Foreword.
Chapter 13. The Book of Enoch.
Chapter 14. Philo Judaeus.
Chapter 15. The Gnostics.
Chapter 16. The Christian Apocrypha.
Chapter 17. The Recognitions of Clement and Simon Magus.
Chapter 18. The Confession of Cyprian and some similar stories.
Chapter 19. Origen and Celsus.
Chapter 20. Other Christian Discussion of Magic before Augustine.
Chapter 21. Christianity and Natural Science; Basil, Epiphanius, and the Physiologus.
Chapter 22. Augustine on Magic and Astrology.
Chapter 23. The Fusion of Pagan and Christian Thought in the Fourth and Fifth Centuries.

[Pg 337]

[Pg 337]

BOOK II. EARLY CHRISTIAN THOUGHT

BOOK II. EARLY CHRISTIAN THOUGHT


FOREWORD

We now turn back chronologically to the point from which we started in our survey of classical science and magic in order to trace the development of Christian thought in regard to the same subjects. How far did Christianity break with ancient science and superstition? To what extent did it borrow from them?

We now go back in time to the point where we began our exploration of classical science and magic to examine how Christian thought developed on these topics. How much did Christianity separate itself from ancient science and superstition? To what degree did it take ideas from them?

Magic and religion.

It has often been remarked that, as a new religion comes to prevail in a society, the old rites are discredited and prohibited as magic. The faith and ceremonies of the majority, performed publicly, are called religion: the discarded cult, now practiced only privately and covertly by a minority, is stigmatized as magic and contrary to the general good. Thus we shall hear Christian writers condemn the pagan oracles and auguries as arts of divination, and classify the ancient gods as demons of the same sort as those invoked in the magic arts. Conversely, when a new religion is being introduced, is as yet regarded as a foreign faith, and is still only the private worship of a minority, the majority regard it as outlandish magic. And this we shall find illustrated by the accusations of sorcery and magic heaped upon Jesus by the Jews, and upon the Jews and the early Christians by a world long accustomed to pagan rites. The same bandying back and forth of the charge of magic occurred between Mohammed and the Meccans.[1509]

It’s often been noted that when a new religion takes hold in a society, the old traditions are discredited and labeled as magic. The beliefs and rituals of the majority, practiced openly, are deemed religion: the old practices, now only followed privately by a minority, are branded as magic and seen as harmful to the common good. So, we see Christian writers condemning pagan oracles and divination practices, classifying ancient gods as demons similar to those involved in magic. On the flip side, when a new religion is introduced and perceived as a foreign belief, still practiced privately by a minority, the majority view it as strange magic. This is exemplified by the accusations of sorcery against Jesus from the Jews, and against the Jews and early Christians by a world used to pagan rituals. A similar back-and-forth of magic accusations occurred between Mohammed and the people of Mecca.[1509]

Relation between early Christian and medieval literature.

It is perhaps generally assumed that the men of the middle ages were widely read in and deeply influenced by the fathers of the early church, but at least for our subject this influence has hardly been treated either broadly or[Pg 338] in detail. Indeed, the predilection of the humanists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries for anything written in Greek and their aversion to medieval Latin has too long operated as a bar to the study of medieval literature in general. And scholars who have edited or studied the Greek, Syriac, and other ancient texts connected with early Christianity have perhaps too often neglected the Latin versions preserved in medieval manuscripts, or, while treasuring up every hint that Photius lets fall, have failed to note the citations and allusions in medieval Latin encyclopedists. Yet it is often the case that the manuscripts containing the Latin versions are of earlier date than those which seem to preserve the Greek original text.

It’s commonly believed that men in the Middle Ages were well-read and significantly influenced by the early church fathers, but when it comes to our topic, this influence hasn't been explored thoroughly or in detail. In fact, the preference of Renaissance humanists in the 15th and 16th centuries for anything written in Greek and their dislike for medieval Latin has long hindered the study of medieval literature as a whole. Moreover, scholars who have edited or examined the Greek, Syriac, and other ancient texts related to early Christianity have often overlooked the Latin versions found in medieval manuscripts. While they may cherish every detail that Photius shares, they frequently fail to recognize the citations and references in medieval Latin encyclopedists. Interestingly, the manuscripts containing the Latin versions are often older than those that appear to preserve the Greek original text.

Method of presenting early Christian thought.

There is so much repetition and resemblance between the numerous Christian writers in Greek and Latin of the Roman Empire that I have even less than in the case of their classical contemporaries attempted a complete presentation of them, but, while not intending to omit any account of the first importance in the history of magic or experimental science, have aimed to make a selection of representative persons and typical passages. At the same time, in the case of those authors and works which are discussed, the aim is to present their thought in sufficiently specific detail to enable the reader to estimate for himself their scientific or superstitious character and their relations to classical thought on the one hand and medieval thought on the other.

There is so much repetition and similarity among the many Christian writers in Greek and Latin during the Roman Empire that I have done even less to present them fully compared to their classical contemporaries. However, while I don’t intend to skip any crucial accounts in the history of magic or experimental science, I have aimed to create a selection of representative figures and key passages. At the same time, for the authors and works discussed, the goal is to present their ideas in enough detail so that the reader can evaluate their scientific or superstitious nature, as well as their connections to classical thought on one side and medieval thought on the other.

Before we treat of Christian writings themselves it is essential to notice some related lines of thought and groups of writings which either preceded or accompanied the development of Christian thought and literature, and which either influenced even orthodox thought powerfully, or illustrate foreign elements, aberrations, side-currents, and undertows which none the less cannot be disregarded in tracing the main current of Christian belief. We therefore shall successively treat of the literature extant under the name of Enoch, of the works of Philo Judaeus, of the doctrines of the Gnostics, of the Christian Apocrypha, of the Pseudo[Pg 339]-Clementines and Simon Magus, and of the Confession of Cyprian and some similar stories. We shall then make Origen’s Reply to Celsus, in which the conflict of classical and Christian conceptions is well illustrated, our point of departure in an examination of the attitude of the early fathers towards magic and science. Succeeding chapters will treat of the attitude toward magic of other fathers before Augustine, of Christianity and natural science as shown in Basil’s Hexaemeron, Epiphanius’ Panarion, and the Physiologus, and of Augustine himself. A final chapter on the fusion of paganism and Christianity in the fourth and fifth centuries will terminate this second division of our investigation and also serve as a supplement to the preceding division and an introduction to the third book on the early middle ages. Our arrangement is thus in part topical rather than strictly chronological. The dates of many authors and works are too dubious, there is too much of the apocryphal and interpolated, and we have to rely too much upon later writers for the views of earlier ones, to make a strictly or even primarily chronological arrangement either advisable or feasible.

Before we discuss Christian writings themselves, it's important to acknowledge some related ideas and groups of texts that either preceded or emerged alongside the growth of Christian thought and literature. These works significantly influenced even orthodox beliefs or reflect foreign elements, deviations, side currents, and undercurrents that cannot be overlooked when tracing the main stream of Christian belief. Therefore, we will sequentially consider the literature attributed to Enoch, the works of Philo Judaeus, the Gnostic doctrines, the Christian Apocrypha, the Pseudo[Pg 339]-Clementines and Simon Magus, as well as the Confession of Cyprian and some similar accounts. We will then use Origen’s Reply to Celsus, which clearly illustrates the conflict between classical and Christian ideas, as our starting point to examine the early church fathers’ attitudes toward magic and science. Subsequent chapters will explore the perspectives on magic held by other fathers before Augustine, the relationship between Christianity and natural science as shown in Basil’s Hexaemeron, Epiphanius’ Panarion, and the Physiologus, as well as Augustine himself. A final chapter will delve into the merging of paganism and Christianity in the fourth and fifth centuries, wrapping up this second part of our study while also serving as a supplement to the previous section and an introduction to the third book on the early Middle Ages. Our arrangement is therefore partly topical rather than strictly chronological. The dates of many authors and works are too uncertain, there is a considerable amount of apocryphal and interpolated material, and we rely too heavily on later writers for the thoughts of earlier ones to make a strictly chronological structure either wise or practical.


[Pg 340]

[Pg 340]

CHAPTER XIII
THE BOOK OF ENOCH

Enoch’s reputation as an astrologer in the middle ages—Date and influence of the literature ascribed to Enoch—Angels governing the universe; stars and angels—The fallen angels teach men magic and other arts—The stars as sinners—Effect of sin upon nature—Celestial phenomena—Mountains and metals—Strange animals.

Enoch's reputation as an astrologer in the Middle Ages—Date and influence of the literature attributed to Enoch—Angels that govern the universe; stars and angels—The fallen angels teach humans magic and other skills—The stars as sinners—Impact of sin on nature—Celestial phenomena—Mountains and metals—Strange animals.

Enoch’s reputation as an astrologer in the middle ages.

In collections of medieval manuscripts there often is found a treatise on fifteen stars, fifteen herbs, fifteen stones, and fifteen figures engraved upon them, which is attributed sometimes to Hermes, presumably Trismegistus, and sometimes to Enoch, the patriarch, who “walked with God and was not.”[1510] Indeed in the prologue to a Hermetic work on astrology in a medieval manuscript we are told that Enoch and the first of the three Hermeses or Mercuries are identical.[1511] This[Pg 341] treatise probably has no direct relation to the Book of Enoch, which we shall discuss in this chapter and which was composed in the pre-Christian period. But it is interesting to observe that the same reputation for astrology, which led the middle ages sometimes to ascribe this treatise to Enoch, is likewise found in “the first notice of a book of Enoch,” which “appears to be due to a Jewish or Samaritan Hellenist,” which “has come down to us successively through Alexander Polyhistor and Eusebius,” and which states that Enoch was the founder of astrology.[1512] The statement in Genesis that Enoch lived three hundred and sixty-five years would also lead men to associate him with the solar year and stars.

In collections of medieval manuscripts, there is often a treatise that talks about fifteen stars, fifteen herbs, fifteen stones, and fifteen figures engraved on them. This work is sometimes attributed to Hermes, presumably Trismegistus, and other times to Enoch, the patriarch, who “walked with God and was not.” [1510] In the prologue of a Hermetic work on astrology found in a medieval manuscript, it's mentioned that Enoch and the first of the three Hermeses or Mercuries are the same person. [1511] This [Pg 341] treatise likely has no direct connection to the Book of Enoch, which we will discuss in this chapter and which was written in the pre-Christian era. However, it's interesting to note that the same association with astrology, which led people in the Middle Ages to sometimes credit this treatise to Enoch, also appears in “the first mention of a book of Enoch,” which “seems to be attributed to a Jewish or Samaritan Hellenist,” and “has been passed down to us through Alexander Polyhistor and Eusebius,” stating that Enoch was the founder of astrology. [1512] The reference in Genesis that Enoch lived for three hundred and sixty-five years would also cause people to connect him with the solar year and stars.

Date and influence of the literature ascribed to Enoch.

The Book of Enoch is “the precipitate of a literature, once very active, which revolved ... round Enoch,” and in the form which has come down to us is a patchwork from “several originally independent books.”[1513] It is extant in the form of Greek fragments preserved in the Chronography of G. Syncellus,[1514] or but lately discovered in (Upper) Egypt, and in more complete but also more recent manuscripts giving an Ethiopic and a Slavonic version.[1515] These last two versions are quite different both in language and content, while some of the citations of Enoch in ancient writers apply to neither of these versions. While “Ethiopic did not exist as a literary language before 350 A. D.,”[1516] and none[Pg 342] of the extant manuscripts of the Ethiopic version is earlier than the fifteenth century,[1517] Charles believes that they are based upon a Greek translation of the Hebrew and Aramaic original, and that even the interpolations in this were made by an editor living before the Christian era. He asserts that “nearly all the writers of the New Testament were familiar with it,” and influenced by it,—in fact that its influence on the New Testament was greater than that of all the other apocrypha together, and that it “had all the weight of a canonical book” with the early church fathers.[1518] After 300 A. D., however, it became discredited, except as we have seen among Ethiopic and Slavonic Christians. Before 300 Origen in his Reply to Celsus[1519] accuses his opponent of quoting the Book of Enoch as a Christian authority concerning the fallen angels. Origen objects that “the books which bear the name Enoch do not at all circulate in the Churches as divine.” Augustine, in the City of God,[1520] written between 413 and 426, admits that Enoch “left some divine writings, for this is asserted by the Apostle Jude in his canonical epistle.” But he doubts if any of the writings current in his own day are genuine and thinks that they have been wisely excluded from the course of Scripture. Lods writes that after the ninth century in the east and from a much earlier date in the west, the Book of Enoch is not mentioned, “At the most some medieval rabbis seem still to know of it.”[1521] Yet Alexander Neckam, in the twelfth century, speaks as if Latin Christendom of that date had some acquaintance with the Enoch literature. We shall note some passages in Saint Hildegard which seem parallel to others in the Book of Enoch, while Vincent of Beauvais in his Speculum naturale in the thirteenth century, in justifying a certain discriminating use of the apocryphal books, points out that Jude quotes Enoch whose book is now called apocryphal.[1522]

The Book of Enoch is “the remnant of a literary tradition, once quite vibrant, that centered around Enoch,” and in the version we have today is a collection from “several originally separate books.” [1513] It survives as Greek fragments found in the Chronography of G. Syncellus, [1514] or recently discovered in (Upper) Egypt, along with more complete but also more recent manuscripts that provide an Ethiopic and a Slavonic version. [1515] These last two versions differ significantly in both language and content, while some references to Enoch in ancient writings do not correspond to either of these versions. While “Ethiopic did not exist as a literary language before 350 A.D.,” [1516] and none of the existing manuscripts of the Ethiopic version is earlier than the fifteenth century, [1517] Charles believes that they are based on a Greek translation of the original Hebrew and Aramaic, suggesting that even the additions made to this were by an editor who lived before the Christian era. He claims that “nearly all the writers of the New Testament were familiar with it,” and were influenced by it—in fact, that its impact on the New Testament was greater than that of all other apocryphal texts combined, and that it “held the same weight as a canonical book” with the early church fathers. [1518] However, after 300 A.D., it lost credibility, except as noted among Ethiopic and Slavonic Christians. Before 300, Origen in his Reply to Celsus [1519] accuses Celsus of citing the Book of Enoch as a Christian authority regarding fallen angels. Origen argues that “the books named after Enoch do not circulate among the Churches as divine.” Augustine, in the City of God, [1520] written between 413 and 426, acknowledges that Enoch “left some divine writings, for this is asserted by the Apostle Jude in his canonical epistle.” But he questions the authenticity of any of the writings that were known in his time and believes they have been rightly excluded from the canon of Scripture. Lods notes that after the ninth century in the east and from a much earlier time in the west, the Book of Enoch is no longer mentioned, “At most, some medieval rabbis still seem to be aware of it.” [1521] Yet Alexander Neckam, in the twelfth century, suggests that Latin Christendom at that time had some familiarity with the Enoch literature. We will mention some passages in Saint Hildegard that appear to parallel others in the Book of Enoch, while Vincent of Beauvais in his Speculum naturale in the thirteenth century, justifying a selective use of apocryphal books, points out that Jude quotes Enoch, whose book is now termed apocryphal. [1522]

[Pg 343]

[Pg 343]

Angels governing the universe: stars and angels.

The Enoch literature has much to say concerning angels, and implies their control of nature, man, and the future. We hear of Raphael, “who is set over all the diseases and wounds of the children of men”; Gabriel, “who is set over all the powers”; Phanuel, “who is set over the repentance and hope of those who inherit eternal life.”[1523] The revolution of the stars is described as “according to the number of the angels,” and in the Slavonic version the number of those angels is stated as two hundred.[1524] Indeed the stars themselves are often personified and we read “how they keep faith with each other” and even of “all the stars whose privy members are like those of horses.”[1525] The Ethiopic version also speaks of the angels or spirits of hoar-frost, dew, hail, snow and so forth.[1526] In the Slavonic version Enoch finds in the sixth heaven the angels who attend to the phases of the moon and the revolutions of stars and sun and who superintend the good or evil condition of the world. He finds angels set over the years and seasons, the rivers and sea, the fruits of the earth, and even an angel over every herb.[1527]

The Enoch literature talks a lot about angels and suggests they have power over nature, humanity, and the future. We hear about Raphael, “who oversees all the diseases and wounds of humans”; Gabriel, “who is in charge of all the powers”; Phanuel, “who looks after the repentance and hope of those who will inherit eternal life.”[1523] The movement of the stars is said to be “according to the number of the angels,” and in the Slavonic version, that number is mentioned as two hundred.[1524] Indeed, the stars are often personified, and we read about “how they remain faithful to each other” and even “all the stars, whose private parts are like those of horses.”[1525] The Ethiopic version also refers to the angels or spirits of frost, dew, hail, snow, and so on.[1526] In the Slavonic version, Enoch encounters the angels in the sixth heaven who manage the phases of the moon and the movements of the stars and sun, overseeing the world's good or evil conditions. He discovers angels responsible for the years and seasons, the rivers and seas, the fruits of the earth, and even an angel for every herb.[1527]

The fallen angels teach men magic and other arts.

The fallen angels in particular are mentioned in the Book of Enoch. Two hundred angels lusted after the comely daughters of men and bound themselves by oaths to marry them.[1528] After having thus taken unto themselves wives, they instructed the human race in the art of magic and the science of botany—or to be more exact, “charms and enchantments” and “the cutting of roots and of woods.” In another chapter various individual angels are named who taught respectively the enchanters and botanists, the breaking of charms, astrology, and various branches thereof.[1529] In the Greek fragment preserved by Syncellus there are further mentioned pharmacy, and what probably denote geomancy (“sign of[Pg 344] the earth”) and aeromancy (aeroskopia). Through this revelation of mysteries which should have been kept hid we are told that men “know all the secrets of the angels, and all the violence of the Satans, and all their occult power, and all the power of those who practice sorcery, and the power of witchcraft, and the power of those who make molten images for the whole earth.”[1530] The revelation included, moreover, not only magic arts, witchcraft, divination, and astrology, but also natural sciences, such as botany and pharmacy—which, however, are apparently regarded as closely akin to magic—and useful arts such as mining metals, manufacturing armor and weapons, and “writing with ink and paper”—“and thereby many sinned from eternity to eternity and until this day.”[1531] As the preceding remark indicates, the author is decidedly of the opinion that men were not created to the end that they should write with pen and ink. “For man was created exactly like the angels to the intent that he should continue righteous and pure, ... but through this their knowledge men are perishing.”[1532] Perhaps the writer means to censure writing as magical and thinks of it only as mystic signs and characters. Magic is always regarded as evil in the Enoch literature, and witchcraft, enchantments, and “devilish magic” are given a prominent place in a list in the Slavonic version[1533] of evil deeds done upon earth.

The fallen angels, in particular, are mentioned in the Book of Enoch. Two hundred angels were attracted to the beautiful daughters of men and promised to marry them. [1528] After taking wives for themselves, they taught humans about magic and plant science—or more specifically, “charms and enchantments” and “the cutting of roots and woods.” In another chapter, various individual angels are named who taught certain skills like breaking charms, astrology, and its various branches. [1529] In the Greek fragment preserved by Syncellus, pharmacy is mentioned, along with what likely refers to geomancy (“sign of[Pg 344] the earth”) and aeromancy (aeroskopia). Through this revelation of secrets that should have remained hidden, we learn that people “know all the secrets of the angels, all the violence of the Satans, all their hidden powers, the power of those who practice sorcery, the power of witchcraft, and the power of those who create molten images for the entire earth.” [1530] The revelation also included not just magic arts, witchcraft, divination, and astrology, but also natural sciences like botany and pharmacy—which seem to be closely related to magic—and practical skills such as mining metals, making armor and weapons, and “writing with ink and paper”—“and thus many have sinned from eternity to eternity and until this day.” [1531] As the previous remark indicates, the author clearly believes that humans were not made to write with pen and ink. “For man was created just like the angels so that he would remain righteous and pure, ... but because of this knowledge, people are perishing.” [1532] Perhaps the writer intends to criticize writing as something magical and only thinks of it as mystical signs and symbols. Magic is always viewed as evil in the Enoch literature, and witchcraft, enchantments, and “devilish magic” are prominently listed in the Slavonic version [1533] of evil deeds committed on earth.

The stars as sinners.

In connection with the fallen angels we find the stars regarded as capable of sin as well as personified. In the Ethiopic version there is more than one mention of seven stars that transgressed the command of God and are bound against the day of judgment or for the space of ten thousand years.[1534] One passage tells how “judgment was held first over the stars, and they were judged and found guilty, and went to the place of condemnation, and they were cast into an abyss.”[1535] A similar identification of the stars with the fallen angels is found in one of the visions of Saint[Pg 345] Hildegard in the twelfth century. She writes, “I saw a great star most splendid and beautiful, and with it an exceeding multitude of falling sparks which with the star followed southward. And they examined Him upon His throne almost as something hostile, and turning from Him, they sought rather the north. And suddenly they were all annihilated, being turned into black coals ... and cast into the abyss that I could see them no more.”[1536] She then interprets the vision as signifying the fall of the angels.

In connection with the fallen angels, we see stars considered capable of sin, as well as being personified. In the Ethiopic version, there are multiple mentions of seven stars that broke God's command and are bound until the day of judgment or for ten thousand years.[1534] One passage describes how “judgment was first held over the stars, and they were judged and found guilty, and went to the place of condemnation, and they were cast into an abyss.”[1535] A similar connection between the stars and the fallen angels appears in one of Saint[Pg 345] Hildegard's visions from the twelfth century. She writes, “I saw a great star, most magnificent and beautiful, and with it an immense number of falling sparks that followed the star southward. They looked at Him on His throne almost as if He were hostile, and turning away, they instead sought the north. And suddenly, they were all destroyed, turning into black coals... and cast into the abyss where I could no longer see them.”[1536] She then interprets the vision as representing the fall of the angels.

Effect of sin upon nature.

An idea which we shall find a number of times in other ancient and medieval writers appears also in the Book of Enoch. It is that human sin upsets the world of nature, and in this particular case, even the period of the moon and the orbits of the stars.[1537] Hildegard again roughly parallels the Enoch literature by holding that the original harmony of the four elements upon this earth was changed into a confused and disorderly mixture after the fall of man.[1538]

An idea that we will encounter multiple times in other ancient and medieval writers also appears in the Book of Enoch. It suggests that human sin disrupts the natural world, and in this case, even the phases of the moon and the paths of the stars. [1537] Hildegard similarly parallels the Enoch literature by claiming that the original harmony of the four elements on Earth was turned into a chaotic and disordered mix after the fall of man. [1538]

Celestial phenomena

The natural world, although intimately associated with the spiritual world and hardly distinguished from it in the Enoch literature, receives considerable attention, and much of the discussion in both the Ethiopic and Slavonic versions is of a scientific rather than ethical or apocalyptic character. One section of the Ethiopic version is described by Charles[1539] as the Book of Celestial Physics and upholds a calendar based upon the lunar year. The Slavonic version, on the other hand, while mentioning the lunar year of 354 days and the solar year of 365 and ¼ days, seems to prefer the latter, since the years of Enoch’s life are given as 365, and he writes 366 books concerning what he has seen in his visions and voyages.[1540] The Book of Enoch supposes a plurality of heavens.[1541] In the Slavonic version Enoch is[Pg 346] taken through the seven heavens, or ten heavens in one manuscript, with the signs of the zodiac in the eighth and ninth. An account is also given of the creation, and the waters above the firmament, which were to give the early Christian apologists and medieval clerical scientists so much difficulty, are described as follows: “And thus I made firm the waters, that is, the depths, and I surrounded the waters with light, and I created seven circles, and I fashioned them like crystal, moist and dry, that is to say, like glass and ice, and as for the waters and also the other elements I showed each of them their paths, (viz.) to the seven stars, each of them in their heaven, how they should go.”[1542] The order of the seven planets in their circles is given as follows: in the first and highest circle the star Kruno, then Aphrodite or Venus, Ares (Mars), the sun, Zeus (Jupiter), Hermes (Mercury), and the moon.[1543] God also tells Enoch that the duration of the world will be for a week of years, that is, seven thousand, after which “let there be at the beginning of the eighth thousand a time when there is no computation and no end; neither years nor months nor weeks nor days nor hours.”[1544]

The natural world, though closely linked to the spiritual world and barely separated from it in the Enoch literature, gets a lot of focus, and much of the discussion in both the Ethiopic and Slavonic versions is more scientific than ethical or apocalyptic. Charles describes one section of the Ethiopic version as the Book of Celestial Physics and supports a calendar based on the lunar year. The Slavonic version, on the other hand, mentions the lunar year of 354 days and the solar year of 365 and ¼ days but seems to favor the solar year since the years of Enoch’s life are stated as 365, and he writes 366 books about what he has seen in his visions and travels. The Book of Enoch suggests that there are multiple heavens. In the Slavonic version, Enoch is taken through seven heavens, or ten heavens in one manuscript, with the signs of the zodiac in the eighth and ninth. There’s also an account of creation, and the waters above the firmament, which later caused a lot of trouble for early Christian apologists and medieval scholars, are described as follows: “And thus I made firm the waters, that is, the depths, and I surrounded the waters with light, and I created seven circles, and I fashioned them like crystal, moist and dry, that is to say, like glass and ice, and as for the waters and also the other elements I showed each of them their paths, (viz.) to the seven stars, each of them in their heaven, how they should go.” The order of the seven planets in their circles is listed as follows: in the first and highest circle the star Kruno, then Aphrodite or Venus, Ares (Mars), the sun, Zeus (Jupiter), Hermes (Mercury), and the moon. God also tells Enoch that the duration of the world will be a week of years, which is seven thousand, after which “let there be at the beginning of the eighth thousand a time when there is no computation and no end; neither years nor months nor weeks nor days nor hours.”

Mountains and metals.

Turning from celestial physics to terrestrial phenomena, we may note a few allusions to minerals, vegetation, and animals. “Seven mountains of magnificent stones” are more than once mentioned in the Ethiopic version and are described as each different from the other.[1545] Another passage speaks of “seven mountains full of choice nard and aromatic trees and cinnamon and pepper.”[1546] But whether[Pg 347] these groups of seven mountains are to be astrologically related to the seven planets is not definitely stated. We are also left in doubt whether the following passage may have some astrological or even alchemical significance, or whether it is merely a figurative prophecy like that in the Book of Daniel concerning the image seen by Nebuchadnezzar in his dream. “There mine eyes saw all the hidden things of heaven that shall be, an iron mountain, and one of copper, and one of silver, and one of gold, and one of soft metal, and one of lead.”[1547] At any rate Enoch has come very near to listing the seven metals usually associated with the seven planets. In another passage we are informed that while silver and “soft metal” come from the earth, lead and tin are produced by a fountain in which an eminent angel stands.[1548]

Turning from celestial physics to earthly phenomena, we can note a few references to minerals, plants, and animals. “Seven mountains of magnificent stones” are mentioned multiple times in the Ethiopic version and are described as each being different from the others.[1545] Another section talks about “seven mountains full of choice nard and fragrant trees and cinnamon and pepper.”[1546] However, it's not clearly stated whether these groups of seven mountains are astrological in relation to the seven planets. We're also uncertain if the following passage might have some astrological or even alchemical meaning, or if it’s simply a symbolic prophecy like the one in the Book of Daniel about the image that Nebuchadnezzar saw in his dream. “There, my eyes saw all the hidden things of heaven that shall be: an iron mountain, one of copper, one of silver, one of gold, one of soft metal, and one of lead.”[1547] In any case, Enoch comes very close to listing the seven metals typically associated with the seven planets. In another passage, we learn that while silver and “soft metal” come from the earth, lead and tin are produced by a fountain where an eminent angel stands.[1548]

Strange animals.

As for animals we are informed that Behemoth is male and Leviathan female.[1549] When Enoch went to the ends of the earth he saw there great beasts and birds who differed in appearance, beauty, and voice.[1550] In the Slavonic version we hear a good deal of phoenixes and chalkydri, who seem to be flying dragons. These creatures are described as “strange in appearance with the feet and tails of lions and the heads of crocodiles. Their appearance was of a purple color like the rainbow; their size, nine hundred measures. Their wings were like those of angels, each with twelve, and they attend the chariot of the sun, and go with him, bringing heat and dew as they are ordered by God.”[1551]

As for animals, we’re told that Behemoth is male and Leviathan is female. [1549] When Enoch traveled to the ends of the earth, he witnessed great beasts and birds that varied in appearance, beauty, and sound. [1550] In the Slavonic version, we hear a lot about phoenixes and chalkydri, which appear to be flying dragons. These creatures are described as “strange-looking with the feet and tails of lions and the heads of crocodiles. They had a purple hue like a rainbow; their size measured nine hundred units. Their wings were like those of angels, each having twelve, and they follow the sun’s chariot, accompanying it, bringing heat and dew as commanded by God.” [1551]


[Pg 348]

[Pg 348]

CHAPTER XIV
PHILO JUDAEUS

Bibliographical note—Philo the mediator between Hellenistic and Jewish-Christian thought—His influence upon the middle ages was indirect—Good and bad magic—Stars not gods nor first causes—But rational and virtuous animals, and God’s viceroys over inferiors—They do not cause evil; but it is possible to predict the future from their motions—Jewish astrology—Perfection of the number seven—And of fifty—Also of four and six—Spirits of the air—Interpretation of dreams—Politics are akin to magic—A thought repeated by Moses Maimonides and Albertus Magnus.

Bibliographical note—Philo as the link between Hellenistic and Jewish-Christian thought—His impact on the Middle Ages was indirect—Good and bad magic—Stars are not gods or primary causes—Instead, they are rational and virtuous beings, serving as God’s representatives over lesser beings—They do not create evil; however, it is possible to predict the future based on their movements—Jewish astrology—The perfection of the number seven—And of fifty—Also of four and six—Spirits of the air—Dream interpretation—Politics are similar to magic—A concept echoed by Moses Maimonides and Albertus Magnus.

But since every city in which laws are properly established has a regular constitution, it became necessary for this citizen of the world to adopt the same constitution as that which prevailed in the universal world. And this constitution is the right reason of nature.

But since every city that has good laws has a proper constitution, it became necessary for this citizen of the world to adopt the same constitution as that of the universal world. And this constitution is the rational order of nature.

On Creation, cap. 50.

On Creation, ch. 50.

Philo the mediator between Hellenistic and Jewish-Christian thought.

There probably is no other man who marks so well the fusion of Hellenic and Hebrew ideas and the transition from them to Christian thought as Philo Judaeus.[1552] He flourished at Alexandria in the first years of our era—the exact dates both of his birth and of his death are uncertain—and speaks of himself as an old man at the time of[Pg 349] his participation in the embassy of Jews to the Emperor Gaius or Caligula in 40 A.D. He repeats the doctrines of the Greek philosophers and anticipates much that the church fathers discuss. Before the Neo-Platonists he regards matter as the source of all evil and feels the necessity of mediators, angels or demons, between God and man. Before the medieval revival of Aristotle and natural philosophy he tries to reconcile the Mosaic account of creation with belief in a world soul, and monotheism with astrology. Before the rise of Christian monasticism he describes in his treatise On the Contemplative Life an ascetic community of Therapeutae at Lake Maerotis.[1553] After Pythagoras he enlarges upon the mystic significance of numbers. After Plato he repeats the conception of an ideal city of God[Pg 350] which was to gain such a hold upon Christian imagination.[1554] After the Stoics he proclaims the doctrine of the law of nature, holds that the institution of human slavery is absolutely contrary to it, and writes “a treatise to prove that every virtuous man is free” and that to be virtuous is to live in conformity to nature.[1555] He had previously written another treatise designed to show that “every wicked man was a slave,”[1556] and he held a theory which we met in the Enoch literature and shall meet again in a number of subsequent writers that sin was punished naturally by forces of nature such as floods and thunderbolts. He did not originate the practice of allegorical interpretation of the Bible but he is our first great extant example thereof. He even went so far as to regard the tree of life and the story of the serpent tempting Eve as purely symbolical, an attitude which found little favor with Christian writers.[1557] His effort by means of the allegorical method to find in the books of the Pentateuch all the attractive concepts and theories which he had learned from the Greeks became later in the Christian apologists an assertion that Plato and Pythagoras had borrowed their doctrines from Abraham and Moses. His doctrine of the logos had a powerful influence upon the writers of the New Testament and the theology of the early church.[1558] Yet Philo affirms that no more perfect good than philosophy exists in human life and in both literary style and erudition he is a Hellene to his very finger tips. The recent tendency, seen especially in German scholarship, to deny the writers of the Roman Empire any capacity for original thought and to trace back their ideas to unextant authors of a supposedly much more productive Hellenistic age has perhaps been carried too far. But if we may not regard Philo as a great originator, and it is evident that he borrowed many of his ideas, he was at any rate a great[Pg 351] transmitter of thought, a mediator after his own heart between Jews and Greeks, and between them both and the Christian writers to come. Standing at the close of the Hellenistic age and at the opening of the Roman period, he occupies in the history of speculative and theological thought an analogous position to that of Pliny the Elder in the history of natural science, gathering up the lore of the past, perhaps improving it with some additions of his own, and exercising a profound influence upon the age to come.

There probably isn’t anyone else who represents the combination of Greek and Jewish ideas and the transition to Christian thought as well as Philo Judaeus. He lived in Alexandria during the early years of our era—the exact dates of his birth and death are unclear—and refers to himself as an old man when he participated in the delegation of Jews to Emperor Gaius or Caligula in 40 A.D. He shares the teachings of Greek philosophers and anticipates many topics discussed by the church fathers. Before the Neo-Platonists, he viewed matter as the root of all evil and recognized the need for mediators, whether angels or demons, between God and humanity. Before the medieval revival of Aristotle and natural philosophy, he attempted to reconcile the Mosaic creation account with the belief in a world soul and monotheism with astrology. Prior to the emergence of Christian monasticism, he described an ascetic community of Therapeutae at Lake Maerotis in his treatise On the Contemplative Life. Following Pythagoras, he elaborated on the mystical significance of numbers. After Plato, he repeated the idea of an ideal city of God, which would greatly influence Christian thought. After the Stoics, he asserted the doctrine of the law of nature, argued that human slavery is completely against it, and wrote “a treatise to prove that every virtuous man is free” and that to live virtuously is to align with nature. He had earlier composed another treatise aimed at demonstrating that “every wicked man was a slave,” and he held a theory we encountered in the Enoch literature and will see again in later writers—that sins were punished naturally by forces of nature like floods and lightning. He didn’t create the practice of allegorical interpretation of the Bible, but he is the first major extant example of it. He even interpreted the tree of life and the story of the serpent tempting Eve as purely symbolic, an idea that wasn’t well received by Christian authors. His use of allegory to uncover appealing concepts and theories from the Pentateuch that he learned from the Greeks led later Christian apologists to claim that Plato and Pythagoras had borrowed their ideas from Abraham and Moses. His concept of the logos had a significant influence on the New Testament writers and early church theology. However, Philo asserts that nothing represents a higher good in human life than philosophy, and in both style and knowledge, he embodies Greek culture completely. The recent trend, particularly in German scholarship, to deny Roman Empire writers any original thought and attribute their ideas to unknown authors from a supposedly richer Hellenistic era may have gone too far. But while we may not see Philo as a major innovator—it's clear he borrowed many of his ideas—he was certainly a great transmitter of thought, a mediator at heart between Jews and Greeks, and between both groups and future Christian writers. Positioning himself at the end of the Hellenistic era and the start of the Roman period, he holds a comparable role in the history of speculative and theological thought to that of Pliny the Elder in the history of natural science, collecting the knowledge of the past, possibly enhancing it with some of his own additions, and having a profound impact on the future.

His influence upon the middle ages was indirect.

Philo’s medieval influence, however, was probably more indirect than Pliny’s and passed itself on through yet other mediators to the more remote times. Comparatively speaking, the Natural History of Pliny probably was more important in the middle ages than in the early Roman Empire when other authorities prevailed in the Greek-speaking world. Philo’s influence on the other hand must soon be transmitted through Christian, and then again through Latin, mediums. This is indicated by the fact that to-day many of his works are wholly lost or extant only in fragments[1559] or in Armenian versions,[1560] and that we have no sure information as to the order in which they were composed.[1561] But his initial force is none the less of the greatest moment, and seems amply sufficient to justify us in selecting his writings as one of our starting points. The extent to which one is apt to find in the writings of Philo passages which are forerunners of the statements of subsequent writers, may be illustrated by the familiar story of King Canute and the tide. Philo in his work On Dreams[1562] speaks of the custom of the Germans of charging the incoming tide with their drawn swords. But what especially concern us are Philo’s[Pg 352] statements concerning magic, astrology, the stars, the perfection and power of numbers, demons, and the interpretation of dreams.

Philo’s influence in the medieval period was likely more indirect than that of Pliny, and it reached later times through various other mediators. In comparison, Pliny's Natural History was likely more significant during the Middle Ages than during the early Roman Empire when other authorities were more prominent in the Greek-speaking world. On the other hand, Philo’s impact was soon conveyed through Christian, and later Latin, channels. This is shown by the fact that today, many of his works are completely lost or only survive in fragments[1559] or in Armenian versions,[1560] and we lack reliable information about the order in which they were written.[1561] However, the initial impact of his works is nonetheless highly significant, and it seems more than enough to warrant considering his writings as one of our starting points. You can often find in Philo’s texts passages that anticipate statements from later writers, as illustrated by the well-known story of King Canute and the tide. In his work On Dreams[1562], Philo discusses the German custom of confronting the incoming tide with drawn swords. But what is particularly relevant to us are Philo’s[Pg 352] remarks about magic, astrology, celestial bodies, the perfection and power of numbers, demons, and dream interpretation.

Good and bad magic.

Philo draws a distinction between magic in the good and bad sense. The former and true magical art is the lore of learned Persians called Magi who investigate nature more minutely and deeply than is usual and explain divine virtues clearly.[1563] The latter magic is a spurious imitation of the other, practised by quacks and impostors, old-wives and slaves, who by means of incantations and the like procedure profess to change men from love to hatred or vice versa and who “deceive unsuspecting persons and waste whole families away by degrees and without making any noise.” It is to this adulterated and evil magic that Philo again refers when he likens political life to Joseph’s coat of many colors, stained with the blood of wars, and in which a very little truth is mixed up with a great deal of sophistry akin to that of the augurs, ventriloquists, sorcerers, jugglers and enchanters, “from whose treacherous arts it is very difficult to escape.”[1564] This distinction between a magic of the wise and of nature and that of vulgar impostors is one which we shall find in many subsequent writers, although it was not recognized by Pliny. Philo also antecedes numerous Christian commentators upon the Book of Numbers[1565] in considering the vexed question whether Balaam was an evil enchanter and diviner, or a divine prophet, or whether he combined magic and prophecy, and thus indicated that the former art is not evil but has divine approval. Philo’s conclusion is the more usual one that Balaam was a celebrated diviner and magician, and that it is impossible that “holy inspiration should be combined with magic,” but that in the particular case of his blessing Israel the spirit of divine[Pg 353] prophecy took possession of him and “drove all his artificial system of cunning divination out of his soul.”[1566]

Philo distinguishes between magic used for good and magic used for bad purposes. The former, true magical practice comes from the knowledge of the learned Persians known as Magi, who study nature more deeply than is typical and clearly explain divine powers. [1563] The latter form of magic is a false imitation performed by fraudsters, charlatans, old wives, and slaves, who claim to use spells and similar methods to turn love into hatred or vice versa, deceiving unsuspecting people and gradually destroying entire families without drawing attention. It is this corrupted and malicious magic that Philo refers to when he compares political life to Joseph’s coat of many colors, stained by the blood of wars, in which a small amount of truth is mixed with a lot of sophistry similar to that of augurs, ventriloquists, sorcerers, jugglers, and enchanters, "from whose deceitful tricks it is very hard to escape." [1564] This distinction between the wisdom of natural magic and the trickery of common impostors appears in many later writers, even though Pliny did not recognize it. Philo also anticipates many Christian commentators on the Book of Numbers [1565] when debating whether Balaam was a wicked magician and diviner, a divine prophet, or a blend of both, suggesting that the former art is not evil but does have divine approval. Philo concludes, in line with common thought, that Balaam was a famous diviner and magician, asserting that “holy inspiration cannot coexist with magic,” but in the specific instance of his blessing Israel, the spirit of divine prophecy overtook him and “expelled all his cunning methods of divination from his soul.” [1566]

Stars not gods nor first causes.

Philo has considerably more to say upon the subject of astrology than upon that of magic. He was especially concerned to deny that the stars were first causes or independent gods. He chided the Chaldean adepts in genethlialogy for recognizing no other god than the universe and no other causes than those apparent to the senses, and for regarding fate and necessity as gods and the periodical revolutions of the heavenly bodies as the cause of all good and evil.[1567] Philo more than once exhorts the reader to follow Abraham’s example in leaving Chaldea and the science of genethlialogy and coming to Charran to a comprehension of the true nature of God.[1568] He agreed with Moses that the stars should not be worshiped and that they had been created by God, and more than that, not created until the fourth day, in order that it might be perfectly clear to men that they were not the primary causes of things.[1569]

Philo has a lot more to say about astrology than he does about magic. He was particularly focused on denying that the stars were the primary causes or independent gods. He criticized the Chaldean experts in astrology for only recognizing the universe as a god and believing that only the causes they could see mattered, viewing fate and necessity as gods and the regular movements of celestial bodies as the source of all good and evil.[1567] Philo repeatedly encourages the reader to follow Abraham’s example by leaving Chaldea and the study of astrology to come to Charran for a true understanding of God.[1568] He agreed with Moses that the stars should not be worshipped and that they were created by God, and importantly, they were only created on the fourth day to make it absolutely clear to people that they are not the primary causes of anything.[1569]

But rational and virtuous animals: and God’s viceroys over inferiors.

Philo, nevertheless, despite his attack on the Chaldeans, believed in much which we should call astrological. The stars, although not independent gods, are nevertheless divine images of surpassing beauty and possess divine natures, although they are not incorporeal beings. Philo distinguishes between the stars, men, and other animals as follows. The beasts are capable of neither virtue nor vice; human beings are capable of both; the stars are intelligent animals, but incapable of any evil and wholly virtuous.[1570] They were native-born citizens of the world long before its first human citizen had been naturalized.[1571] God, moreover, did not post[Pg 354]pone their creation until the fourth day because superiors are subject to inferiors. On the contrary they are the viceroys of the Father of all and in the vast city of this universe the ruling class is made up of the planets and fixed stars, and the subject class consists of all the natures beneath the moon.[1572] A relation of natural sympathy exists between the different parts of the universe, and all things upon the earth are dependent upon the stars.[1573]

Philo, however, despite his criticism of the Chaldeans, believed in much that we would consider astrology. The stars, although not independent gods, are still divine representations of exceptional beauty and possess divine qualities, even though they are not incorporeal beings. Philo differentiates between the stars, humans, and other animals in the following way. Beasts are incapable of either virtue or vice; humans can experience both; the stars are intelligent beings but cannot commit any evil and are entirely virtuous. [1570] They were natural citizens of the world long before the first human citizen was acknowledged. [1571] Furthermore, God did not delay their creation until the fourth day because higher beings are subject to lower ones. Instead, they are the representatives of the Father of all, and in the vast city of this universe, the ruling class consists of the planets and fixed stars, while the subordinate class includes all the entities beneath the moon. [1572] A natural connection exists between the different parts of the universe, and everything on earth relies on the stars. [1573]

They do not cause evil: but it is possible to predict the future from their motions.

Philo of course will not admit that evil is caused either by the virtuous stars or by God working through them. As has been said, he attributed evil to matter or to “the natural changes of the elements,”[1574] drawing a line between God and nature in much the fashion of the church fathers later. But he granted that “before now some men have conjecturally predicted disturbances and commotions of the earth from the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, and innumerable other events which have turned out most exactly true.”[1575] Philo’s interest in astronomy and astrology is further suggested by his interpretation of the eleven stars of Joseph’s dream as referring to the signs of the zodiac,[1576] Joseph himself making the twelfth; and by his interpreting the ladder in Jacob’s dream which stretched between earth and heaven as referring to the air,[1577] into which earth’s evaporations dissolve, while the moon is not pure ether like the other stars but itself contains some air. This accounts, Philo thinks, for the spots upon the moon—an explanation which I do not remember having met in subsequent writers.

Philo, of course, would never admit that evil comes from the virtuous stars or from God working through them. As mentioned, he blamed evil on matter or “the natural changes of the elements,”[1574] creating a distinction between God and nature similar to that of the later church fathers. However, he acknowledged that “before now, some people have speculated that disturbances and commotions of the earth could be predicted from the movements of the heavenly bodies, and countless other events that turned out to be very accurate.”[1575] Philo’s interest in astronomy and astrology is further indicated by his interpretation of the eleven stars in Joseph’s dream as representing the signs of the zodiac,[1576] with Joseph as the twelfth; and by his interpretation of the ladder in Jacob’s dream, which reached between earth and heaven, as referring to the air,[1577] into which the earth's vapors dissolve, while the moon is not pure ether like the other stars but actually contains some air. Philo believes this explains the spots on the moon—an explanation I don't remember encountering in later writers.

Jewish astrology.

Josephus[1578] and the Jews in general of Philo’s time were equally devoted to astrology according to Münter, who says: “Only their astrology was subordinated to theism. The one God always appeared as the master of the host of heaven. But they regarded the stars as living divine beings and[Pg 355] powers of heaven.”[1579] In the Talmud later we read that the hour of Abraham’s birth was announced by the stars and that he feared from his observations of the constellations that he would go childless. Münter also gives examples of the belief of the rabbis in the influence of the stars upon the destiny of the Jewish people and upon the fate of individual men, and of their belief that a star would announce the coming of the Messiah.[1580]

Josephus[1578] and the Jews in Philo’s time were similarly committed to astrology, as Münter states: “But their astrology was secondary to theism. The one God was always seen as the ruler of the heavenly hosts. However, they viewed the stars as living divine beings and powerful forces in the heavens.”[Pg 355] In the Talmud, we later read that the stars announced the hour of Abraham’s birth, and he was concerned from his observations of the constellations that he would remain childless. Münter also cites examples of the rabbis' belief in the stars' influence on the fate of the Jewish people and individuals, and their belief that a star would signal the arrival of the Messiah.[1580]

Perfection of the number seven.

From Philo’s astrology it is an easy step to his frequent reveries concerning the perfection and mystic significance of certain numbers,—a train of thought which was continued by many of the church fathers, and is also found in various pagan writers of the Roman Empire.[1581] Thomas Browne in his enquiry into “Vulgar Errors”[1582] was inclined to hold Philo even more responsible than Pythagoras or Plato for the dissemination of such doctrines. Philo himself recognizes the close connection between astrology and number mysticism, when, after affirming the dependence of all earthly things upon the heavenly bodies, he adds: “It is in heaven, too, that the ratio of the number seven began.”[1583] Philo doubts if it is possible to express adequately the glories of the number seven, but he feels that he ought at least to attempt it and devotes a dozen chapters of his treatise on the creation of the world to it,[1584] to say nothing of other passages. He notes that there are seven planets, seven circles of heaven, four quarters of the moon of seven days each, that such constellations as the Pleiades and Ursa Major consist of seven stars, and that children born at the end of[Pg 356] seven months live, while those who see the light in the eighth month die. In diseases the seventh is a critical day. Also there are either seven ages of man’s life, as Hippocrates says, or, in accordance with Solon’s lines, man’s three-score years and ten may be subdivided into ten periods of seven years each. The lyre of seven strings corresponds to the seven planets, and in speech there are seven vowels. There are seven divisions of the head—eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth, seven divisions of the body, seven kinds of motion, seven things seen, and even the senses are seven rather than five if we add the vocal and generative organs.[1585]

From Philo’s astrology, it’s a simple leap to his frequent daydreams about the perfection and mystical significance of certain numbers—a line of thinking that many church fathers continued and can also be found in various pagan writers from the Roman Empire. Thomas Browne, in his exploration of “Vulgar Errors,” was inclined to believe that Philo was even more responsible than Pythagoras or Plato for spreading these ideas. Philo himself acknowledges the close link between astrology and number mysticism when he states that everything on earth depends on the heavenly bodies, adding, “It is in heaven, too, that the ratio of the number seven began.” Philo wonders if it’s possible to fully express the glories of the number seven, but he feels he should at least try and dedicates a dozen chapters of his treatise on the creation of the world to it, not to mention other passages. He observes that there are seven planets, seven circles of heaven, four quarters of the moon each lasting seven days, that constellations like the Pleiades and Ursa Major consist of seven stars, and that children born at the end of seven months live, while those born in the eighth month die. In illnesses, the seventh day is critical. He notes there are either seven ages of man’s life, as Hippocrates says, or, following Solon’s lines, man’s threescore years and ten can be divided into ten periods of seven years each. The lyre with seven strings corresponds to the seven planets, and in language, there are seven vowels. There are seven divisions of the head—eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth, seven divisions of the body, seven kinds of movement, seven things seen, and even the senses count as seven rather than five if we include the vocal and reproductive organs.

And of fifty.

Philo’s ideal sect, the Therapeutae, are wont to assemble as a prelude to their greatest feast at the end of seven weeks, “venerating not only the simple week of seven days but also its multiplied power,”[1586] but the chief festival itself occurs on the fiftieth day, “the most holy and natural of numbers, being compounded of the power of the right-angled triangle, which is the principle of the origination and condition of the whole.”[1587]

Philo’s ideal group, the Therapeutae, usually gather before their biggest celebration at the end of seven weeks, “honoring not just the simple week of seven days but also its multiplied significance,”[1586] but the main festival takes place on the fiftieth day, “the most sacred and natural of numbers, made up of the power of the right-angled triangle, which is the foundation and essence of everything.”[1587]

Also of four and six.

The numbers four and six, however, yield little to seven and fifty in the matter of perfection. It was the fourth day that God chose for the creation of the heavenly bodies, and He did not need six days for the entire work of creation, but it was fitting that that perfect work should be accomplished in a perfect number of days. Six is the product of the first female number, two, and the first male number, three. Indeed, the first three numbers, one, two, and three, whether added or multiplied, give six.[1588] As for four, there are that many elements and seasons; it is the only number produced by the same number—two—whether added to[Pg 357] itself or multiplied by itself; it is the first square and as such the emblem of justice and equality; it also represents the cube or solid, as the number one stands for a point, two for a line, and three for a surface.[1589] Furthermore four is the source of “the all-perfect decade,” since one and two and three and four make ten. At this we begin to suspect, and with considerable justification, as the writings of other devotees of the philosophy of numbers would show, that the number of perfect numbers is legion. We may not, however, follow Philo much farther on this topic. Suffice it to add that he finds the fifth day fitting for the creation of animals possessed of five senses,[1590] while he divides the ten plagues of Egypt into three dealing with the more solid elements, earth and water, and performed by Aaron; three dealing with air and fire which were entrusted to Moses; the seventh was committed to both Aaron and Moses; while the other three God reserved for Himself.[1591]

The numbers four and six don’t compare much to seven and fifty when it comes to perfection. It was the fourth day that God chose to create the heavenly bodies, and He didn’t need six days for the whole creation process, but it made sense for that perfect work to be completed in a perfect number of days. Six is the product of the first female number, two, and the first male number, three. In fact, the first three numbers—one, two, and three—whether added or multiplied, equal six. As for four, it represents the four elements and seasons; it's the only number that comes from itself—two—whether added to itself or multiplied by itself; it’s the first square number and symbolizes justice and equality; it also represents the cube or solid, with the number one standing for a point, two for a line, and three for a surface. Moreover, four is the source of “the all-perfect decade,” since one, two, three, and four add up to ten. This leads us to suspect—justifiably, as shown by the writings of other number enthusiasts—that there are many perfect numbers. However, we won’t delve deeper into Philo's views on this topic. It’s enough to mention that he finds the fifth day suitable for creating animals with five senses, while he divides the ten plagues of Egypt into three concerning the more solid elements, earth and water, performed by Aaron; three dealing with air and fire, which were assigned to Moses; the seventh was handled by both Aaron and Moses, while the other three were reserved for God.

Spirits of the air.

Philo believed in a world of spirits, both the angels of the Jews and the demons of the Greeks. When God said: “Let us make man,” Philo believed that He was addressing those assistant spirits who should be held responsible for the viciousness to which man alone of all creation is liable.[1592] Of the divine rational natures Philo regarded some as incorporeal, others like the stars as possessed of bodies.[1593] He also believed that there were spirits in the air as well as afar off in heaven. He could not see why the air should not be inhabited when there were stars in the ether and fish in the sea as well as other animals upon land.[1594] Indeed he argued that it would be absurd that the element which was essential for the vitality even of land and aquatic animals should have no living beings of its own. That these spirits of the air must be invisible did not trouble him, since the human soul is also invisible.

Philo believed in a world of spirits, including both the angels of the Jews and the demons of the Greeks. When God said, “Let us make man,” Philo thought He was speaking to those assistant spirits who should be held accountable for the wickedness that only humans, of all creation, seem to fall into.[1592] Among the divine rational beings, Philo saw some as incorporeal, while others, like the stars, had physical bodies.[1593] He also believed there were spirits in the air as well as far away in heaven. He didn’t understand why the air shouldn’t be inhabited when there are stars in the sky, fish in the sea, and other animals on land.[1594] In fact, he argued that it would be ridiculous for the element that is essential for the life of land and water animals to have no living beings of its own. The fact that these air spirits must be invisible didn’t bother him, since the human soul is also invisible.

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Interpretation of dreams.

Of Philo’s five books on dreams only two are extant. They suffice to show, however, that he accepted the art of divination from dreams. Of dreams he distinguished three varieties: those direct from God which require no interpretation; those in which the dreamer’s mind moves in unison with the world soul, and which are neither entirely clear nor yet very obscure—an instance is Jacob’s vision of the ladder; and third, those in which the mind is moved by a prophetic frenzy of its own, and which require the science of interpretation—such dreams were Joseph’s concerning his brothers, and those of the butler and the baker at Pharaoh’s court.[1595]

Of Philo’s five books on dreams, only two still exist. However, they are enough to show that he believed in the practice of divination through dreams. He identified three types of dreams: those that come directly from God and need no interpretation; those where the dreamer’s mind connects with the world soul, which are neither completely clear nor entirely obscure—an example is Jacob’s vision of the ladder; and third, those in which the mind is influenced by a prophetic frenzy and require interpretation—such as Joseph’s dreams about his brothers and those of the butler and the baker at Pharaoh’s court.[1595]

Politics akin to magic.

The recent war and its accompaniments and sequels have brought home to some the conviction that our modern civilization is after all not vastly superior to that of some preceding ages. To those who still imagine that because modern science has freed us from much past superstition concerning nature, we are therefore free from political fakirs, from social absurdities, and from fallacious procedure and reasoning in many departments of life, the reading may be recommended of a passage in Philo’s treatise on dreams,[1596] in which he classifies the art of politics along with that of magic. He compares Joseph’s coat of many colors to “the much-variegated web of political affairs” where along with “the smallest possible portion of truth” falsehoods of every shade of plausibility are interwoven; and he compares politicians and statesmen to augurs, ventriloquists, and sorcerers, “men skilful in juggling and in incantations and in tricks of all kinds, from whose treacherous arts it is very difficult to escape.” He adds that Moses very naturally represented Joseph’s coat as blood-stained, since all statecraft is tainted with wars and bloodshed.

The recent war and its aftermath have made some people realize that our modern civilization isn't really that much better than some earlier eras. For those who believe that modern science has liberated us from many old superstitions about nature, and therefore we are free from political deceivers, social absurdities, and flawed reasoning in various areas of life, it might be helpful to read a passage from Philo’s treatise on dreams, [1596], where he categorizes politics alongside magic. He likens Joseph’s coat of many colors to “the complex web of political affairs,” which contains “the smallest possible portion of truth” while interweaving falsehoods of all kinds of plausibility; he also compares politicians and statesmen to augurs, ventriloquists, and sorcerers—“men skilled in juggling, incantations, and all sorts of tricks, from whose deceptive practices it is very hard to escape.” He adds that it's fitting for Moses to depict Joseph’s coat as blood-stained, since all statecraft is tainted by wars and bloodshed.

A thought repeated by Moses Maimonides and Albertus Magnus.

Twelve centuries later we find Philo’s association of politicians with magicians repeated by his compatriot Moses Maimonides in the More Nevochim or Guide for the Per[Pg 359]plexed,[1597] a work which appeared almost immediately in Latin translation and from which this very passage is cited by Albertus Magnus in his discussion of divination by dreams.[1598] There are some men, says Albert, in whom the intellect is abundant and active and clear. Such men are akin to the superior substances, that is, to the angels and stars, and therefore Moses of Egypt, i.e., Maimonides, calls them sages. But there are others who, according to Albert, confound true wisdom with sophistry and are content with mere probabilities and imaginations and are at home in “rhetorical and civil matters.” Maimonides, however, described this class a little differently, saying that in them the imaginative faculty is preponderant and the rational faculty imperfect. “Whence arises the sect of politicians, of legislators, of diviners, of enchanters, of dreamers, ... and of prestidigiteurs who work marvels by strange cunning and occult arts.”[1599]

Twelve centuries later, we find Philo’s connection of politicians with magicians echoed by his fellow countryman Moses Maimonides in the More Nevochim or Guide for the Per[Pg 359]plexed, a work that quickly appeared in Latin translation and from which Albertus Magnus cites this very passage in his discussion of divination through dreams. There are some men, says Albert, who have abundant, active, and clear intellects. These men are similar to superior beings, meaning the angels and stars, and that’s why Moses of Egypt, i.e., Maimonides, refers to them as sages. However, there are others who, according to Albert, mix up true wisdom with sophistry and settle for mere probabilities and fantasies, excelling in “rhetorical and civil matters.” Maimonides, on the other hand, describes this group a bit differently, stating that in them the imaginative faculty is dominant and the rational faculty is lacking. “From this arises the group of politicians, legislators, diviners, enchanters, dreamers, ... and prestidigiteurs who perform wonders through strange tricks and hidden arts.”


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CHAPTER XV
THE GNOSTICS

Difficulty in defining Gnosticism—Magic and astrology in Gnosticism—Simon Magus as a Gnostic—Simon’s Helen—The number thirty and the moon—Ophites and Sethians—A magical diagram—Employment of names and formulae—Seven metals and planets—Magic of Simon’s followers—Magic of Marcus in the Eucharist—Other magic and occult lore of Marcus—Name and number magic—The magic vowels—Magic of Carpocrates—The Abraxas and the number 365—Astrology of Basilides—The Book of Helxai—Epiphanius on the Elchasaites—The Book of the Laws of Countries—Personality of Bardesanes—Sin possible for men, angels, and stars—Does fate in the astrological sense prevail?—National laws and customs as a proof of free will—Pistis-Sophia; attitude to astrology—“Magic” condemned—Power of names and rites—Interest in natural science—“Gnostic gems” and astrology—The planets in early Christian art—Gnostic amulets in Spain—Syriac Christian charms—Priscillian executed for magic—Manichean manuscripts—The Mandaeans.

Difficulty in defining Gnosticism—Magic and astrology in Gnosticism—Simon Magus as a Gnostic—Simon’s Helen—The number thirty and the moon—Ophites and Sethians—A magical diagram—Use of names and formulas—Seven metals and planets—Magic of Simon’s followers—Magic of Marcus in the Eucharist—Other magic and occult knowledge of Marcus—Name and number magic—The magic vowels—Magic of Carpocrates—The Abraxas and the number 365—Astrology of Basilides—The Book of Helxai—Epiphanius on the Elchasaites—The Book of the Laws of Countries—Personality of Bardesanes—Sin possible for men, angels, and stars—Does fate in the astrological sense prevail?—National laws and customs as evidence of free will—Pistis-Sophia; attitude to astrology—“Magic” condemned—Power of names and rituals—Interest in natural science—“Gnostic gems” and astrology—The planets in early Christian art—Gnostic amulets in Spain—Syriac Christian charms—Priscillian executed for magic—Manichean manuscripts—The Mandaeans.

Difficulty in defining Gnosticism.

Gnosticism[1600] is not easy to define and the term Gnostic appears to have been applied to a great variety of sects with a confusing diversity of beliefs. Many of the constituents and roots at least of Gnosticism were older than Christianity, and it is now the custom to associate the Gnosis or superior knowledge and revelation, which gives the movement its name, not with Greek philosophy or mysteries but with oriental speculation and religions. Anz[1601] has been impressed by its connection with Babylonian star-worship; Amélineau[1602] has urged its debt to Egyptian magic and[Pg 361] religion; Bousset[1603] has argued for Persian origins. The main features of the great oriental religions which swept westward over the Roman Empire were shared by Gnosticism: the redeemer god, even the great mother goddess conception to some extent, the divinely revealed mysteries, the secret symbols, the dualism, and the cosmic theory. Gnosticism as it is known to us, however, is more closely connected with Christianity than with any other oriental religion or body of thought, for the extant sources consist almost entirely either of Gnostic treatises which pretend to be Christian Scriptures and were almost entirely written in Coptic in the second or third century of our era,[1604] or of hostile descriptions of Gnostic heresies by the early church fathers. However, the philosopher Plotinus also criticized the Gnostics, as we have seen.

Gnosticism is hard to define, and the term "Gnostic" seems to have been used for a wide range of sects with a confusing variety of beliefs. Many elements and origins of Gnosticism predate Christianity, and it's now typical to associate Gnosis, or superior knowledge and revelation—which gives the movement its name—not with Greek philosophy or mysteries but with Eastern speculation and religions. Anz has been struck by its ties to Babylonian star-worship; Amélineau has highlighted its debt to Egyptian magic and religion; Bousset has suggested Persian origins. The main characteristics of the major Eastern religions that spread westward across the Roman Empire were also shared by Gnosticism: the redeemer god, even the idea of a great mother goddess to some extent, the divinely revealed mysteries, the secret symbols, dualism, and the cosmic theory. However, Gnosticism as we know it is more closely connected to Christianity than to any other Eastern religion or belief system, as the existing sources predominantly consist of Gnostic writings that pretend to be Christian Scriptures and were mostly written in Coptic in the second or third century CE, or hostile descriptions of Gnostic heresies by early church fathers. Nevertheless, the philosopher Plotinus also criticized the Gnostics, as we've seen.

Magic and astrology in Gnosticism.

What especially concerns our investigation is the great use made, or said to be made, by the Gnostics of sacred formulae, symbols, and names of demons, and the prevalence among them of astrological theory as shown by their widespread notion of the seven planets as the powers who have created our inferior and material world and who rule over its affairs. Gnosticism was deeply influenced by, albeit it to some extent represents a reaction against, the Babylonian star-worship and incantation of spirits. The seven planets and the demons occupy an important place in Gnostic myth because they intervene between our world and the world of supreme light, and their spheres must be traversed—much as in the Book of Enoch and Dante’s Paradiso—both by the redeeming god in his descent and return and by any human soul that would escape from this world of fate, darkness, and matter. What encouragement there is for such views in the canonical Scriptures themselves may be[Pg 362] inferred from the following passage in which Christ foretells His second coming: “Immediately after the tribulation of those days shall the sun be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken. And then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven; and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And He shall send His angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they shall gather together His elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.”[1605] But in order to pass the demons and the spheres of the planets, who are usually represented as opposed to this, one must, as in the Egyptian Book of the Dead, know the passwords, the names of the spirits, the sacred formulae, the appropriate symbols, and all the other apparatus suggestive of magic and necromancy which forms so large a part of the gnosis that gives its name to the system. This will become the more apparent from the following particular accounts of Gnostic sects and doctrines found in the works of the Christian fathers and in the scanty remains of the Gnostics themselves. The philosopher Plotinus we have already heard charge the Gnostics with resort to magic and sorcery, and with ascribing evil and fatal influence to the stars. At the same time we shrewdly suspect that Gnosticism has been made a scapegoat for the sins in these regards of both early Christianity and pagan philosophy.

What particularly interests our investigation is the significant use, or alleged use, by the Gnostics of sacred words, symbols, and names of demons, as well as their common reliance on astrological theories. They held the widespread belief that the seven planets were the forces responsible for creating our inferior and material world and controlling its affairs. Gnosticism was heavily influenced by, even though it partially reacted against, Babylonian star worship and spirit incantations. The seven planets and the demons play a crucial role in Gnostic mythology because they act as intermediaries between our world and the realm of supreme light. Both the redeeming god's descent and return, and any human soul seeking to escape this world of fate, darkness, and matter, must navigate through their spheres—similar to what is described in the Book of Enoch and Dante’s Paradiso. Any encouragement for such beliefs in the canonical Scriptures can be[Pg 362] inferred from the following passage where Christ predicts His second coming: “Immediately after the tribulation of those days, the sun will be darkened, the moon won’t give its light, and the stars will fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then, the sign of the Son of man will appear in heaven; and all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. He will send His angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather His elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.”[1605] However, to pass by the demons and the spheres of the planets, which are typically portrayed as adversarial, one must, like in the Egyptian Book of the Dead, know the passwords, the names of the spirits, the sacred phrases, the right symbols, and all the other magical and necromantic elements that constitute a large part of the gnosis that lends its name to the system. This will become even more clear from the specific accounts of Gnostic sects and teachings found in the writings of the Christian fathers and the scarce remains of the Gnostics themselves. The philosopher Plotinus has already been heard accusing the Gnostics of using magic and sorcery and attributing evil and fateful power to the stars. At the same time, we can suspect that Gnosticism has been used as a scapegoat for the faults in these areas both of early Christianity and pagan philosophy.

Simon Magus as a Gnostic.

Simon Magus, of whose magical exploits as recorded by many a Christian writer we shall treat in another chapter, is also represented by the fathers as holding Gnostic doctrine, although some writers have contended that Simon the magician named in Acts was an entirely different person from Simon the heretic and author of The Great Declaration.[1606] Simon declared himself the Great Power of God, or[Pg 363] the Being who was over all, who had appeared in Samaria as the Father, in Judea as the Son, and to other nations as the Holy Spirit.[1607] In the Pseudo-Clementines Simon is represented as arguing against Peter in characteristically Gnostic style that “he who framed the world is not the highest God, but that the highest God is another who alone is good and who has remained unknown up to this time.”[1608] According to Epiphanius Simon claimed to have descended from heaven through the planetary spheres and spirits in the manner of the Gnostic redeemer. He is quoted as saying, “But in each heaven I changed my form in accordance with the form of those who were in each heaven, that I might escape the notice of my angelic powers and come down to the Thought, who is none other than she who is likewise called Prounikon and the Holy Spirit.” Epiphanius further informs us that Simon believed in a plurality of heavens, assigned certain powers to each firmament and heaven, and applied barbaric names to these spirits or cosmic forces. “Nor,” adds Epiphanius, “can anyone be saved unless he learns this mystic lore and offers such sacrifices to the Father of all through these archons and authorities.”[1609]

Simon Magus, whose magical exploits have been described by many Christian writers and will be discussed in another chapter, is also portrayed by the church fathers as holding Gnostic beliefs. However, some writers argue that the Simon the magician mentioned in Acts is completely different from Simon the heretic and author of The Great Declaration.[1606] Simon claimed to be the Great Power of God, or[Pg 363] the Being who is above all, who appeared in Samaria as the Father, in Judea as the Son, and to other nations as the Holy Spirit.[1607] In the Pseudo-Clementines, Simon is depicted as arguing against Peter in a typical Gnostic fashion, stating “the one who created the world is not the highest God, but that the highest God is another who is alone good and who has remained unknown until now.”[1608] According to Epiphanius, Simon claimed he descended from heaven through the planetary spheres and spirits, resembling the Gnostic redeemer. He is quoted as saying, “But in each heaven I changed my form to match those who were in each heaven, so that I could avoid the notice of my angelic powers and descend to the Thought, who is also known as Prounikon and the Holy Spirit.” Epiphanius also tells us that Simon believed in multiple heavens, assigned certain powers to each one, and used strange names for these spirits or cosmic forces. “Moreover,” adds Epiphanius, “no one can be saved unless they learn this mystical knowledge and offer sacrifices to the Father of all through these archons and authorities.”[1609]

Simon’s Helen.

The fathers tell us that Simon went about with a woman called Helena or Helen, who Justin Martyr says had formerly been a prostitute.[1610] Simon is said to have called her the mother of all, through whom God had created the angels and aeons, who in their turn had formed the world and men. These cosmic powers had then, however, cast her down to earth, where she had been confined in various successive human and animal bodies. She seems to have obtained her name of Helen from the fact that it was for her that the Trojan war had been fought, an event which Simon seems to have subjected to much allegorical interpretation. He also spoke of Helen as “the lost sheep,” whom he, the Great [Pg 364] Power, had descended from heaven to release from the bonds of the flesh. She was that Thought or Holy Spirit which we have heard him say he came down to recover. Simon’s Helen also corresponds to Pistis-Sophia, who in the extant Gnostic work named after her descends through the twelve aeons, deceived by a lion-faced power whom they have formed to mislead her, and then reascends by the aid of Jesus or the true light. It seems fairly evident that the fathers[1611] have taken literally and travestied by a scandalous application to an actual woman a beautiful Gnostic myth or allegory concerning the human soul. At the same time Simon’s Helen reminds us of Jesus’s relations with the woman taken in adultery, the woman of Samaria, and Mary Magdalene. Mary Magdalene, it may be noted, in the Gnostic writing, Pistis-Sophia, takes a rôle superior to the twelve disciples, a fact of which Peter complains to his Lord more than once. But Simon’s Helen was that spirit of truth which lies latent in the human mind and which he endeavored to release by means of the philosophy, astrology, and magic of his time. May modern scientific method prove more successful in setting the prisoner free!

The early church fathers tell us that Simon was involved with a woman named Helena or Helen, who Justin Martyr claims had been a prostitute. Simon is said to have referred to her as the mother of all, through whom God created the angels and aeons, who subsequently shaped the world and humanity. However, these cosmic powers later cast her down to earth, where she was trapped in various human and animal bodies. It seems that she got the name Helen because it was for her that the Trojan War was fought, an event that Simon interpreted in many allegorical ways. He also described Helen as “the lost sheep,” whom he, the Great Power, had descended from heaven to free from the bonds of the flesh. She represented that Thought or Holy Spirit he claimed to have come down to retrieve. Simon’s Helen is also related to Pistis-Sophia, who in the existing Gnostic text named after her descends through the twelve aeons, misled by a lion-faced power created to misguide her, and then ascends again with the help of Jesus or the true light. It seems pretty clear that the church fathers have taken a beautiful Gnostic myth or allegory about the human soul, twisted it scandalously, and applied it to a real woman. At the same time, Simon’s Helen reminds us of Jesus’s interactions with the woman caught in adultery, the Samaritan woman, and Mary Magdalene. Notably, in the Gnostic text, Pistis-Sophia, Mary Magdalene plays a role superior to the twelve disciples, a point that Peter complains about to Jesus more than once. However, Simon’s Helen represented the spirit of truth that is dormant in the human mind, and he tried to liberate it through the philosophy, astrology, and magic of his time. Let's hope modern scientific methods can be more successful in setting the prisoner free!

The number thirty and the moon.

We find in the Pseudo-Clementines other details concerning Simon and Helen which bring out the astrological side of Gnosticism. We are told that John the Baptist had thirty disciples, a number suggestive of the days of the moon and also of the thirty aeons of the Gnostics of whom we elsewhere hear a great deal.[1612] But the revolution of the moon does not occupy thirty full days, so that we are not surprised to learn that one of these disciples was a woman and furthermore that she was the very Helen of whom we have been speaking. At least, she is so called in the Homilies of the Pseudo-Clement; in the Recognitions she is actually[Pg 365] called Luna or the Moon.[1613] After the death of John the Baptist Simon by his magic power supplanted Dositheus as leader of the thirty, and then fell in love with Luna and went about with her, proclaiming that she was Wisdom or Truth, “brought down ... from the highest heavens to this world.”[1614] The number thirty is again associated with Simon and Dositheus in a curiously insistent, although apparently unconscious, manner by Origen, who in one passage of his Reply to Celsus, written in the first half of the third century, expresses doubt whether thirty followers of Simon, the Samaritan magician, can be found in all the world, and in a second passage, while asserting that “Simonians are found nowhere throughout the world,” adds that of the followers of Dositheus there are now not more than thirty in all.[1615]

We find in the Pseudo-Clementines more details about Simon and Helen that highlight the astrological aspect of Gnosticism. It mentions that John the Baptist had thirty disciples, a number related to the moon's cycle and also to the thirty aeons of the Gnostics, which we hear a lot about elsewhere.[1612] However, since the moon doesn't complete thirty full days in its cycle, it's not surprising to learn that one of these disciples was a woman, specifically the Helen we've been discussing. At least, that's what she’s called in the Homilies of the Pseudo-Clement; in the Recognitions, she’s referred to as Luna or the Moon.[1613] After John the Baptist's death, Simon used his magical powers to take Dositheus’s place as the leader of the thirty and then fell in love with Luna, declaring that she was Wisdom or Truth, “brought down ... from the highest heavens to this world.”[1614] The number thirty is again linked to Simon and Dositheus in a strangely persistent, yet seemingly unintentional way by Origen. In one part of his Reply to Celsus, written in the first half of the third century, he questions whether thirty followers of Simon, the Samaritan magician, can actually be found anywhere in the world. In another passage, while claiming that “Simonians are found nowhere throughout the world,” he adds that there are now no more than thirty followers of Dositheus in total.[1615]

Ophites and Sethians.

Similar to Simon’s account of the heavens and of his descent through them were the teachings of the Ophites and Sethians who, according to Irenaeus,[1616] held that Christ “descended through the seven heavens, having assumed the likeness of their sons, and gradually emptied them of their power.” These heretics also represented the “heavens, potentates, powers, angels, and creators as sitting in their proper order in heaven, according to their generation, and as invisibly ruling over things celestial and terrestrial.” All ruling spirits were not invisible, however, since the Ophites and Sethians identified with the seven planets their Holy Hebdomad, consisting of Ialdabaoth, Iao, Sabaoth, Adonaus (or, Adonai), Eloeus, Oreus, and Astanphaeus,—names often employed in the Greek magical papyri,[1617] in medieval incantations, and in the Jewish Cabbala. The Ophites and Sethians further asserted that when the serpent was cast down into the lower world by the Father, he begat six sons[Pg 366] who, with himself, constitute a group of seven corresponding and in contrast to the Holy Hebdomad which surround the Father. They are the seven mundane demons who are ever hostile to humanity. The Sethians of course took their name from Seth, son of Adam, who in the middle ages was regarded sometimes, like Enoch, as the especial recipient of divine revelation and as the author of sacred books. The historian Josephus states in his Jewish Antiquities that Seth and his descendants discovered the art of astronomy and that one of the two pillars on which they recorded their findings was still extant in his time, the first century.[1618] Under the caption, Sethian Tablets of Curses, Wünsch has published some magical imprecations scratched on lead tablets between 390 and 420 A. D. at Rome.[1619] Eight revelations ascribed to Adam and Seth are also extant in Armenian.[1620]

Similar to Simon’s description of the heavens and his journey through them, the teachings of the Ophites and Sethians, according to Irenaeus, held that Christ “descended through the seven heavens, taking on the appearance of their sons, and gradually diminished their power.” These heretics also depicted the “heavens, rulers, powers, angels, and creators as sitting in their proper places in heaven according to their order, and as invisibly governing celestial and earthly matters.” Not all ruling spirits were invisible, though, since the Ophites and Sethians equated their Holy Hebdomad of seven planets with Ialdabaoth, Iao, Sabaoth, Adonaus (or, Adonai), Eloeus, Oreus, and Astanphaeus—names frequently found in the Greek magical papyri, in medieval spells, and in the Jewish Cabbala. The Ophites and Sethians also claimed that when the serpent was cast down into the lower world by the Father, he fathered six sons, who alongside himself form a group of seven that contrasts with the Holy Hebdomad surrounding the Father. They are the seven worldly demons who are constantly opposed to humanity. The Sethians, of course, derived their name from Seth, son of Adam, who in the Middle Ages was sometimes viewed, like Enoch, as a special recipient of divine revelation and the author of sacred writings. The historian Josephus mentions in his *Jewish Antiquities* that Seth and his descendants discovered the art of astronomy and that one of the two pillars on which they recorded their discoveries was still standing in his time, the first century. Under the title, *Sethian Tablets of Curses*, Wünsch published some magical curses inscribed on lead tablets between 390 and 420 A.D. in Rome. Eight revelations attributed to Adam and Seth also still exist in Armenian.

A magical diagram.

In Origen’s Reply to Celsus is described a mystic diagram with details redolent of magic and astrological necromancy,[1621] which Celsus had laid to the charge of Christians generally but which Origen declares is probably the product of the “very insignificant sect called Ophites.” Origen himself has seen this diagram or one something like it, and assures his readers that “we know the depth of these unhallowed mysteries,” but he declares that he has never met anybody anywhere who put any faith in this diagram. Obviously, however, such a diagram would not have been in existence if no one had ever had faith in it. Furthermore, its survival into Origen’s time, when he asserts that men had ceased to use it, is evidence of the antiquity of the sect and the superstition. In this diagram ten distinct circles were united by a single circle representing the soul of all[Pg 367] things and called Leviathan. Celsus spoke of the upper circles, of which at least some were in colors, as “those that are above the heavens.” On these were inscribed such words and phrases as “Father and Son,” “Love,” “Life,” “Knowledge,” and “Understanding.” Then there were “the seven circles of archontic demons,” who are probably to be connected with the spheres of the seven planets. These seven ruling demons were represented by animal heads or figures, somewhat resembling the symbols of the four evangelists to be seen in the mosaics at Ravenna and elsewhere in Christian art. The angel Michael was depicted by a sort of chimaera, the words of Celsus being, “The goat was shaped like a lion”; Suriel, by a bull; Raphael, by a dragon; Gabriel, by an eagle; Thautabaoth, by a bear; Erataoth, by a dog; and Thaphabaoth or Onoel, by an ass. The diagram was divided by a thick black line called Gehenna and beneath the lowest circle was placed “the being named Behemoth.” There was also “a square pattern” with inscriptions concerning the gates of paradise, a flaming circle with a flaming sword as its diameter guarding the tree of knowledge and of life, “a barrier inscribed in the shape of a hatchet,” and a rhomboid with the words, “The foresight of wisdom.” Celsus further mentioned a seal with which the Father impresses the Son, who says, “I have been anointed with white ointment from the tree of life,” and seven angels who contend with the seven ruling demons for the soul of the dying body.

In Origen’s Reply to Celsus, there’s a description of a mystical diagram filled with elements of magic and astrological sorcery, [1621] which Celsus accused Christians of using, but Origen claims it likely comes from the “very insignificant sect called Ophites.” Origen states that he has seen this diagram, or something similar, and assures his readers that “we know the depth of these unholy mysteries,” yet he mentions he has never encountered anyone who actually believed in this diagram. However, it’s clear that such a diagram wouldn’t exist if no one had ever believed in it. Additionally, its survival into Origen's era, despite his claims that people had stopped using it, indicates the ancient roots of the sect and its superstitions. In this diagram, ten distinct circles are connected by a single circle representing the soul of all things, referred to as Leviathan. Celsus described the upper circles, some of which were colored, as “those that are above the heavens.” Inscribed on them were words and phrases like “Father and Son,” “Love,” “Life,” “Knowledge,” and “Understanding.” There were also “the seven circles of archontic demons,” likely linked to the spheres of the seven planets. These seven ruling demons were depicted as animal heads or figures, reminiscent of the symbols of the four evangelists found in mosaics at Ravenna and in other Christian art. The angel Michael was illustrated as a sort of chimera, with Celsus stating, “The goat was shaped like a lion”; Suriel appeared as a bull; Raphael as a dragon; Gabriel as an eagle; Thautabaoth as a bear; Erataoth as a dog; and Thaphabaoth or Onoel as a donkey. The diagram was divided by a thick black line called Gehenna, and beneath the lowest circle was the being known as Behemoth. There was also “a square pattern” with inscriptions about the gates of paradise, a flaming circle with a flaming sword as its diameter guarding the tree of knowledge and life, “a barrier inscribed in the shape of an axe,” and a rhomboid with the words, “The foresight of wisdom.” Celsus also mentioned a seal that the Father uses to mark the Son, who declares, “I have been anointed with white ointment from the tree of life,” and seven angels who battle the seven ruling demons for the soul of the dying body.

Employment of names and formulae.

Origen further informs us of the forms of salutation to each ruling spirit employed by “those sorcerers,” as they pass through “the fence of wickedness” or the gate to the realm of each spirit. The names of the spirits are now given as Ialdabaoth, who is the lion-like archon and with whom the planet Saturn is in sympathy, Iao or Jah, Sabaoth, Adonaeus, Astaphaeus, Aloaeus or Eloaeus, and Horaeus. The following is an example of the salutations or invocations addressed to these spirits: “Thou, O second Iao, who shinest by night, who art the ruler of the secret mysteries[Pg 368] of Son and Father, first prince of death, and portion of the innocent, bearing now thine own beard as symbol, I am ready to pass through thy realm, having strengthened him who is born of thee by the living word. Grace be with me; Father, let it be with me!” Origen also states that the makers of this diagram have borrowed from magic the names Ialdabaoth, Astaphaeus, and Horaeus, while the other four are names of God drawn from the Hebrew Scriptures.

Origen also tells us about the ways to greet each ruling spirit used by “those sorcerers” as they pass through “the fence of wickedness” or the gate to each spirit's realm. The names of the spirits are now listed as Ialdabaoth, the lion-like archon who is connected to the planet Saturn; Iao or Jah; Sabaoth; Adonaeus; Astaphaeus; Aloaeus or Eloaeus; and Horaeus. Here’s an example of the greetings or invocations directed at these spirits: “You, O second Iao, who shine at night, ruler of the hidden mysteries of Son and Father, first prince of death, and part of the innocent, now wearing your own beard as a symbol, I am ready to enter your realm, having empowered him who is born of you with the living word. May grace be with me; Father, let it be with me!” Origen also mentions that the creators of this diagram have borrowed the names Ialdabaoth, Astaphaeus, and Horaeus from magic, while the other four are names of God taken from the Hebrew Scriptures.

Seven metals and planets.

It is worth noting that immediately before this account of the diagram Celsus had described similar Persian mysteries of Mithras, in which seven heavens through which the soul has to pass were arranged in an ascending scale like a ladder.[1622] Each successive heaven was entered by a gate of a metal corresponding to the planet in question, lead for Saturn, tin for Venus, copper for Jupiter, iron for Mercury, a mixed metal for Mars, silver for the moon, and gold for the sun. This association of metals and planets became a common feature of medieval alchemy. At the same time the passage is said to be our chief literary source for the mysteries of Mithras.[1623]

It’s important to point out that right before this description, Celsus talked about similar Persian mysteries of Mithras, where seven heavens that the soul must go through were arranged in an ascending order like a ladder.[1622] Each heaven was accessed through a gate made of a specific metal that matched the corresponding planet: lead for Saturn, tin for Venus, copper for Jupiter, iron for Mercury, a mixed metal for Mars, silver for the moon, and gold for the sun. This connection between metals and planets became a common aspect of medieval alchemy. At the same time, this passage is noted as our main literary source for the mysteries of Mithras.[1623]

Magic of Simon’s followers.

The Simonians, according to Irenaeus, were as addicted to magic as their founder had been, employing exorcisms and incantations, love-philters and enchantments, familiar spirits and “dream-senders.” “And whatever other curious arts may be resorted to are eagerly employed by them.” Menander, the immediate successor of Simon in Samaria, was “a perfect adept in the practice of magic” and taught that by means of it one could overcome the angels who had created this world.[1624] In a treatise on rebaptism, falsely ascribed to Cyprian but very likely contemporary with him, it is stated that the Simonians regard their baptism as superior to that of orthodox Christians, because when they descend into the water fire appears upon its surface. The writer thinks that this is done by some trick, or that there is some natural explanation of it, or that they merely imag[Pg 369]ine that they see a flame on the water, or that it is the work of some evil one and of magic power.[1625] Epiphanius states that Simon employed such obscene substances as semen and menstruum in his magic,[1626] but this seems to be a slander, at least against Gnosticism, since in a passage of the Gnostic Book of the Saviour, adjoined to the Pistis-Sophia, Thomas asks Jesus what shall be the punishment of men who eat “semen maris et menstruum feminae” mixed with lentils, saying as they do so, “We believe in Esau and Jacob,” and is told that this is the worst of sins and that the souls of those committing it will be absolutely blotted out.[1627]

The Simonians, according to Irenaeus, were just as into magic as their founder had been, using exorcisms and spells, love potions and charms, familiar spirits and "dream-senders." "And whatever other strange practices they might resort to are eagerly used by them." Menander, Simon's direct successor in Samaria, was "a complete expert in the practice of magic" and taught that through it one could defeat the angels who had created this world. In a treatise on rebaptism, mistakenly attributed to Cyprian but likely contemporary with him, it is said that the Simonians believe their baptism is superior to that of orthodox Christians because when they go under the water, fire appears on its surface. The writer thinks this is achieved through some trick, or there's a natural explanation for it, or they simply imagine they see a flame on the water, or that it's the work of some evil force and magic power. Epiphanius states that Simon used such obscene substances as semen and menstruum in his magic, but this seems to be a false accusation, at least against Gnosticism, since in a passage of the Gnostic Book of the Saviour, linked to the Pistis-Sophia, Thomas asks Jesus what the punishment will be for men who eat “semen maris et menstruum feminae” mixed with lentils while saying, “We believe in Esau and Jacob,” and is told that this is the worst of sins and that the souls of those who commit it will be completely erased.

Magic of Marcus in the Eucharist.

Next to Simon Magus, Marcus was the Gnostic and heretic most notorious as a practitioner of the magic arts, as Irenaeus states at the close of the second century, and Hippolytus and Epiphanius repeat in the third and fourth centuries respectively.[1628] In performing the Eucharist he would change white wine placed in three wine cups into three different colors, one blood-red, one purple, and one dark blue, according to Epiphanius, while Irenaeus and Hippolytus more vaguely state, although they lived closer to Marcus’s time, that he gave the wine a purple or reddish hue as if it had been changed into blood, an alteration which Marcus himself regarded as a manifestation of divine grace. Epiphanius attributes the change to an incantation muttered by Marcus while pretending to perform the Eucharist.[Pg 370] Hippolytus, who ascribes Marcus’s feats partly to sleight-of-hand and partly to demons, in this case charges that he furtively dropped some drug into the wine. Marcus was also accustomed to fill a large cup from a smaller one so that it would overflow, a marvel which Hippolytus again tries to account for by stating that “very many drugs, when mingled in this way with liquid substances” temporarily increase their volume, “especially when diluted in wine.”

Next to Simon Magus, Marcus was the most notorious Gnostic and heretic recognized for practicing magic, as noted by Irenaeus at the end of the second century, with Hippolytus and Epiphanius repeating this in the third and fourth centuries respectively.[1628] During the Eucharist, he would turn white wine in three cups into three distinct colors: one blood-red, one purple, and one dark blue, according to Epiphanius. Irenaeus and Hippolytus, who lived closer to Marcus’s time, less clearly state that he gave the wine a purple or reddish tint, as if it had transformed into blood, an alteration Marcus himself considered a sign of divine grace. Epiphanius claims the change was due to an incantation Marcus whispered while pretending to perform the Eucharist.[Pg 370] Hippolytus attributes Marcus’s abilities partly to trickery and partly to demons, arguing that he secretly dropped some drug into the wine. Marcus was also known for filling a large cup from a smaller one so that it overflowed, a feat that Hippolytus tries to explain by saying that “many drugs, when mixed in this way with liquid substances” temporarily increase their volume, “especially when diluted in wine.”

Other magic and occult lore of Marcus.

Irenaeus, who is quoted verbatim by Epiphanius, further states that Marcus had a familiar demon by whose aid he was able to prophesy, and that he pretended to confer this gift upon others. He also accuses Marcus of seducing women by means of philters and love potions which he compounded. Hippolytus does not make these charges, but unites with the others in describing at length Marcus’s theory of mystic names and his symbolical and mystical interpretation of the letters of the alphabet and of numbers. Marcus made various calculations based upon the number of letters in a name, the number of letters in the name of each letter, and so on. When Christ, whose ineffable name has thirty letters, said, “I am Alpha and Omega,” He was believed by Marcus to have displayed the dove, whose number is 801. These reveries “are mere bits,” as Hippolytus says, of astrological theory and Pythagorean philosophy. We shall find them perpetuated in the middle ages in the method of divination known as the Sphere of Pythagoras.

Irenaeus, who is directly quoted by Epiphanius, goes on to say that Marcus had a familiar demon that helped him prophesy, and he pretended to give this ability to others. He also accuses Marcus of luring women using potions and love charms he created. Hippolytus doesn’t make these accusations but agrees with the others in elaborating on Marcus’s theory about mystical names and his symbolic and mystical interpretations of letters and numbers. Marcus made various calculations based on the number of letters in a name, the number of letters in each letter's name, and so on. When Christ, whose mysterious name contains thirty letters, said, “I am Alpha and Omega,” Marcus believed He revealed the dove, which is associated with the number 801. These ideas “are mere bits,” as Hippolytus states, of astrological theory and Pythagorean philosophy. We will see them carried on into the Middle Ages through the divination method known as the Sphere of Pythagoras.

Name and number magic.

Such symbolism and mysticism concerning numbers and letters seldom indeed remain a matter of mere theory but readily lend themselves to operative magic. Thus Hippolytus can speak in the same breath of “magical arts and Pythagorean numbers” or tell that Pythagoras himself “also touched on magic, as they say, and himself discovered an art of physiognomy, laying down as a basis certain numbers and measures.” Or note a third passage where Hippolytus is discussing Egyptian theology based on the theory of numbers.[1629] After treating of the monad, duad, and enneads,[Pg 371] of the four elements in pairs, of the 360 parts of the circle, of “ascending and beneficent and masculine names” which end in odd numbers, and of feminine and malicious and descending names which terminate in even numbers, Hippolytus continues, “Moreover, they assert that they have calculated the word, ‘Deity.’ Now this name is an even number, and they write it down and attach it to the body and accomplish cures by it. In the same way an herb which terminates in this number is bound around the body and operates by reason of a similar calculation of the number. Nay, even a doctor cures the sick by such calculations.“ Similarly Censorinus states that the number seven is ascribed to Apollo and used in the cure of bodily ills, while nine is associated with the Muses and heals mental diseases.[1630] But to return to Gnosticism.

Such symbolism and mysticism related to numbers and letters rarely stay just theoretical; they easily lend themselves to practical magic. Hippolytus can simultaneously mention “magical arts and Pythagorean numbers” or note that Pythagoras himself “also delved into magic, as it's said, and discovered an art of physiognomy, basing it on specific numbers and measures.” Consider a third instance where Hippolytus talks about Egyptian theology rooted in the theory of numbers.[1629] After discussing the monad, duad, and enneads, the four elements in pairs, the 360 parts of the circle, “ascending and beneficial masculine names” that end in odd numbers, and feminine, malicious, and descending names that end in even numbers, Hippolytus continues, “Furthermore, they claim to have calculated the word ‘Deity.’ This name is an even number, and they write it down, attaching it to the body to achieve cures. Similarly, an herb that ends with this number is wrapped around the body and works through a similar numerical calculation. Even a doctor heals the sick using such calculations.” Likewise, Censorinus mentions that the number seven is linked to Apollo and used to treat physical ailments, while nine is associated with the Muses and addresses mental health issues.[1630] But let's return to Gnosticism.

The magic vowels.

The seven vowels were much employed by the Gnostics, undoubtedly as symbols for the seven planets and the spirits associated with them, but as symbols possessed of magic power as well as of mystic significance. “The Saviour and His disciples are supposed in the midst of their sentences to have broken out in an interminable gibberish of only vowels; magic spells have come down to us consisting of vowels by the fourscore; on amulets the seven vowels, repeated according to all sorts of artifices, form a very common inscription.”[1631] As the seven planets made the music of the spheres, so the seven vowels seem to have represented the musical scale, “and many a Gnostic sheet of vowels is in fact a sheet of music.”[1632]

The seven vowels were often used by the Gnostics, clearly as symbols for the seven planets and the spirits linked to them, but also as symbols that held magical power as well as mystical meaning. “The Saviour and His disciples are thought to have sometimes burst into an endless stream of gibberish made up entirely of vowels; magical spells have come down to us that consist of vowels in great numbers; on amulets, the seven vowels are commonly inscribed in various forms.”[1631] Just as the seven planets created the music of the spheres, the seven vowels seem to represent the musical scale, “and many Gnostic sheets of vowels are essentially sheets of music.”[1632]

Magic of Carpocrates.

Other heretics with Gnostic views who were accused of magic by the fathers were the followers of Carpocrates, who employed incantations and spells, philters and potions, who attracted spirits to themselves and made light of the cosmic angels, and who pretended to have great power over all[Pg 372] things so that they were able by their magic to satisfy every desire.[1633]

Other heretics with Gnostic beliefs who were accused of practicing magic by the church leaders were the followers of Carpocrates. They used incantations, spells, love potions, and other mixtures to lure spirits to themselves, dismissed the cosmic angels, and claimed to have incredible power over everything, believing that their magic could fulfill any desire.[Pg 372]

The Abraxas and the number 365.

Saturninus and Basilides were charged with “practicing magic, and employing images, incantations, invocations, and every other kind of curious art.” They also believed in a supreme power named Abrasax or Abraxas, whose number was 365; and they contended that there were 365 heavens and as many bones in the human body; “and they strive to set forth the names, principles, angels, and powers of the 365 imagined heavens.”[1634]

Saturninus and Basilides were accused of “practicing magic and using images, spells, invocations, and all sorts of strange arts.” They also believed in a supreme being called Abrasax or Abraxas, associated with the number 365; and they argued that there were 365 heavens and the same number of bones in the human body; “and they attempt to present the names, principles, angels, and powers of the 365 supposed heavens.”[1634]

Astrology of Basilides.

Hippolytus gives further indication of the astrological leanings of Basilides, who held that each thing had its own particular time, and supported his view by citing the Magi gazing wistfully at the star of Bethlehem and the remark of Christ Himself, “Mine hour is not yet come.”[1635] I suppose that by this Hippolytus means to suggest that Basilides held the astrological doctrine of elections; Basilides further affirmed, according to Hippolytus, that Jesus was “mentally preconceived at the time of the generation of the stars; and of the complete return to their starting point of all the seasons in the vast conglomeration,” that is, at the end of the astronomical magnus annus, variously reckoned as of 36,000 or 15,000 years in duration.

Hippolytus further illustrates the astrological beliefs of Basilides, who claimed that everything has its own specific timing. He supported this idea by referring to the Magi gazing longingly at the star of Bethlehem and quoting Christ Himself, “My hour has not yet come.”[1635] I think Hippolytus is implying that Basilides believed in the astrological concept of elections. Basilides also asserted, according to Hippolytus, that Jesus was “mentally conceived at the time of the generation of the stars; and at the complete return to their starting point of all the seasons in the vast collection,” which means at the end of the astronomical magnus annus, estimated to last either 36,000 or 15,000 years.

The Book of Helxai.

In his Refutation of all Heresies[1636] Hippolytus tells of an Alcibiades from Apamea in Syria who in his time brought to Rome a book supposed to contain revelations made to a holy man, Elchasai or Helxai, by an angel ninety-six miles in height and from sixteen to twenty-four miles in breadth and leaving a footprint fourteen miles long. This angel was the Son of God, and was accompanied by a female of corresponding size who was the Holy Spirit. This apparition and revelation was accompanied by a preaching of a new remission of sins in the third year of Trajan’s reign, at which time we are led to suppose that the Book of Helxai[Pg 373] came into existence. It imposed secrecy upon those initiated into its mysteries. The sect, according to Hippolytus, were much given to magic, astrology, and the number mysticism of Pythagoras. The Elchasaites employed incantations and formulae to cure persons bitten by mad dogs or afflicted with disease. In such cases and also in the case of rebaptism for the remission of sins it was customary with them to invoke or adjure “seven witnesses,” not however in this case the planets, but “the heaven, and the water, and the holy spirits, and the angels of prayer, and the oil (or, the olive), and the salt, and the earth.” Hippolytus declares that their formulae of this sort were “very numerous and very ridiculous.” They dipped consumptives and persons possessed by demons in cold water forty times in seven days. They believed in the astrological doctrine of elections, since their sacred book warned them not to baptize or begin other important undertakings upon those days which were governed by the evil stars. They also seem to have predicted political events from the stars, foretelling that three years after Trajan’s subjugation of the Parthians “war rages between the impious angels of the northern (constellations), and on this account all kingdoms of impiety are in confusion.”

In his Refutation of all Heresies[1636], Hippolytus talks about an Alcibiades from Apamea in Syria who, during his time, brought a book to Rome that was believed to contain revelations made to a holy man, Elchasai or Helxai, by an angel that was ninety-six miles tall and between sixteen to twenty-four miles wide, leaving a footprint that was fourteen miles long. This angel was the Son of God and was accompanied by a female of similar size who represented the Holy Spirit. This vision and revelation were combined with a preaching about a new forgiveness of sins during Trajan’s third year as emperor, which is when we can assume the Book of Helxai[Pg 373] was created. The book required secrecy from those who were initiated into its mysteries. Hippolytus notes that the sect was heavily into magic, astrology, and the number mysticism of Pythagoras. The Elchasaites used incantations and formulas to heal people bitten by rabid dogs or suffering from illnesses. In such cases, and also for rebaptism for the forgiveness of sins, they typically called upon “seven witnesses,” which were not the planets but rather “the heaven, the water, the holy spirits, the angels of prayer, the oil (or olive), the salt, and the earth.” Hippolytus claims that their formulas of this kind were “very numerous and very ridiculous.” They submerged those with tuberculosis and those possessed by demons in cold water forty times over the course of seven days. They believed in the astrological doctrine of elections because their sacred book warned them not to baptize or start other significant activities on days ruled by unfavorable stars. They also seemed to predict political events based on the stars, claiming that three years after Trajan defeated the Parthians, “war rages between the impious angels of the northern (constellations), and for this reason, all kingdoms of impiety are in turmoil.”

Epiphanius on the Elchasaites.

In the next century Epiphanius adds one or two further details to Hippolytus’ account of the Elchasaites. Besides the list of seven witnesses already given he mentions another slightly different one: salt, water, earth, wheat, heaven, ether, and wind. He also tells of two sisters in the time of Constantine who were supposed to be descendants of Helxai. One of them was still alive the last Epiphanius knew, and crowds followed “this witch” to collect the dust of her footprints or her spittle to use in curing diseases.[1637]

In the next century, Epiphanius adds a couple more details to Hippolytus’ account of the Elchasaites. In addition to the list of seven witnesses already mentioned, he identifies another version: salt, water, earth, wheat, heaven, ether, and wind. He also talks about two sisters during Constantine's time who were believed to be descendants of Helxai. One of them was still alive the last Epiphanius heard, and crowds followed “this witch” to collect the dust from her footprints or her spittle to use for healing diseases.[1637]

The Book of the Laws of Countries.

We possess an important document for the attitude of early Christianity and Gnosticism towards astrology in The Dialogue concerning Fate or The Book of the Laws of Countries of Bardesanes or Bardaisan.[1638] The complete[Pg 374] Syriac text is extant;[1639] there is a long and somewhat modified extract adopted from it in the Latin Recognitions of Clement,[1640] and briefer fragments in the Greek fathers. Strictly speaking, the text seems to be written by some follower of Bardesanes named Philip who represents his master as discussing the problem of human free will with Avida, himself, and other disciples. The bulk of the treatise is in any case put in Bardesanes’ mouth and it probably reflects his views with fair accuracy. Eusebius ascribed it to Bardesanes himself.

We have an important document that shows early Christianity and Gnosticism's views on astrology in The Dialogue concerning Fate or The Book of the Laws of Countries by Bardesanes or Bardaisan.[1638] The full[Pg 374] Syriac text still exists;[1639] there's a long and somewhat altered excerpt included in the Latin Recognitions of Clement,[1640] along with shorter fragments in the works of the Greek fathers. Technically, the text seems to have been written by a follower of Bardesanes named Philip, who portrays his teacher debating the issue of human free will with Avida and other disciples. Overall, most of the treatise is presented as Bardesanes’ words and likely reflects his views quite accurately. Eusebius credited it to Bardesanes himself.

Personality of Bardesanes

Bardesanes (154-222 A. D.) was born in Edessa. He spent most of his life in Mesopotamia but for a time went to Armenia as a missionary. His many works in Syriac included apologies for Christianity, attacks upon heresies, and numerous hymns, but the only work extant is the treatise we are about to examine, with the possible exception of The Hymn of the Soul[1641] ascribed to him and contained in the Syriac Acts of St. Thomas. His doctrines were regarded by Ephraem Syrus and others as tainted with Gnostic heresy. He is often represented as a follower of Valentinus, but the ancient authorities, such as Epiphanius and Eusebius, disagree as to whether he degenerated from orthodoxy to Valentinianism or reformed in the opposite direction. In the dialogue which we consider he is represented as a Christian, but his remarks have often been thought to have a Gnostic flavor. F. Nau, however, has argued that he was not a Gnostic and that the statements in question in the dialogue can be explained as purely astrological.[1642]

Bardesanes (154-222 A.D.) was born in Edessa. He spent most of his life in Mesopotamia but also went to Armenia for a time as a missionary. His many works in Syriac included defenses of Christianity, critiques of heresies, and numerous hymns, but the only surviving work is the treatise we are about to examine, possibly along with The Hymn of the Soul[1641] attributed to him and found in the Syriac Acts of St. Thomas. His teachings were seen by Ephraem Syrus and others as influenced by Gnostic heresy. He is often depicted as a follower of Valentinus, but ancient sources like Epiphanius and Eusebius have differing opinions on whether he shifted from orthodoxy to Valentinianism or reformed away from it. In the dialogue we are considering, he is portrayed as a Christian, but his comments are often thought to reflect a Gnostic influence. F. Nau, however, has argued that he was not a Gnostic and that the statements in question in the dialogue can be understood purely in astrological terms.[1642]

Sin possible for men, angels, and stars.

The treatise opens with the query, why did not God make men so that they could not sin? The reply of course is that moral freedom for good or evil is a greater gift of God than compulsory morality. By virtue of his individual freedom of action man is equal to the angels, some of whom,[Pg 375] too, have sinned with the daughters of men and fallen, and is superior even to the sun, moon, and signs of the zodiac which are fixed in their courses. The stars, however, as in The Book of Enoch, “are not absolutely destitute of all freedom” and will be held responsible at the day of judgment. Presently some of them are called evil.

The treatise starts with the question, why didn’t God create people in a way that they couldn’t sin? The answer, of course, is that the ability to choose between good and evil is a greater gift from God than being forced to do good. Because of his individual freedom to act, humanity is equal to the angels, some of whom,[Pg 375] have also sinned with human women and fallen. Humans are even greater than the sun, moon, and stars, which are fixed in their paths. However, as mentioned in The Book of Enoch, the stars "are not completely without any freedom" and will be held accountable on judgment day. Currently, some of them are considered evil.

Does fate in the astrological sense prevail?

After some discussion whether man does wrong from his nature, the treatise turns to the question, how far are men controlled by fate, that is, by the power of the seven planets in accordance with the doctrine of the Chaldeans, which is the term here usually employed for astrologers. Some men attack astrology as “a lying invention” and hold that the human will is free and that such evils as man cannot avoid are due to chance or to divine punishment but not to the stars. Between these extremes Bardesanes takes middle ground. He believes that there is such a force in the stars, whom he refers to as Potentates and Governors, as the fate of which the astrologers speak, but that this fate evidently does not rule everything, since it is itself established by the one God who imposed upon the stars and elements that motion in conformity with which “intelligences undergo change when they descend to the soul, and souls undergo change when they descend to bodies,” a statement which appears to have a Gnostic flavor. This fate furthermore is limited by nature on the one hand and human free will on the other hand. The vital processes and periods which are common to all men, such as birth, generation, child-bearing, eating, drinking, old age, and death, Bardesanes regards as governed by nature. “The body,” he says, “is neither hindered nor helped by fate in the several acts it performs,” a view which most astrologers would probably not accept. On the contrary, in Bardesanes’ opinion wealth and honors, power and subjection, sickness and health, are controlled by fate which often disturbs the regular course of nature. This is because in genesis or the nativity the stars, some of which work with and some against nature,[Pg 376] are in conflict. In short, some stars are good and some are evil.

After some discussion about whether humans do wrong by their nature, the treatise shifts to the question of how much control fate has over humans, specifically through the influence of the seven planets according to the beliefs of the Chaldeans, a term typically used for astrologers. Some people criticize astrology as “a deceptive invention” and argue that human free will exists, claiming that unavoidable evils are due to chance or divine punishment, rather than the stars. Bardesanes, however, takes a more balanced stance. He believes that there is indeed a force in the stars, which he calls Potentates and Governors, aligning with the fate mentioned by astrologers. Yet, he also asserts that this fate does not control everything, as it is established by a singular God who governs the stars and elements, causing “intelligences to change when they descend to the soul, and souls to change when they descend to bodies,” a perspective that seems to carry Gnostic elements. Additionally, this fate is restricted by nature on one side and human free will on the other. Bardesanes views the universal life processes and stages that all humans experience—like birth, reproduction, childbearing, eating, drinking, aging, and dying—as governed by nature. “The body,” he states, “is neither hindered nor aided by fate in the various actions it takes,” a belief that most astrologers might not agree with. Conversely, Bardesanes believes that wealth, honors, power, and subjugation, along with health and illness, are influenced by fate, which often disrupts the natural order. This is because, at the time of one's birth or nativity, the stars—some aligning with nature and some opposing it—are in conflict. In short, some stars are beneficial while others are harmful.

National laws and customs as a proof of free will.

If nature is thus often upset by the stars, fate in its turn may be resisted and overpowered by man’s exercise of will. This assertion Bardesanes proceeds to prove by the argument which has given to the dialogue the title, The Book of the Laws of the Countries, and which we find much repeated in subsequent writers. Briefly it is that in various nations certain laws are enforced upon, or customs observed by all the people alike regardless of their diverse individual horoscopes. In illustration of this are listed various prohibitions and practices fondly supposed by Bardesanes and his audience to characterize the Seres, Brahmans, Persians, Geli, Bactrians, Arabs, Britons, Parthians, Amazons, and other peoples. Savage tribes are mentioned among whom there are no artists, bankers, perfumers, musicians, and poets to fit the nativities decreed by the constellations for certain times. Bardesanes is aware of the astrological theory of seven zones or climes, by which the science of individual horoscopes is corrected and modified, but he contends that there are many different laws in each of these zones, and would be, even if the number were raised to twelve according to the number of the signs or to thirty-six after the decans. He also contends that men retain their laws or customs when they migrate to other climes, and adduces the fidelity of Jews and Christians to the commandments of their respective religions as a further illustration of the triumph of free will over the stars. He concedes, however, as before that “in every country and in every nation there are rich and poor, and rulers and subjects, and people in health and those who are sick, each one according as fate and his nativity have affected him.” Incidentally to the foregoing discussion it is affirmed that the astrology of Egypt and that of the Chaldeans in Babylon are identical. At the close of the treatise is appended a note stating that Bardesanes estimated the duration of the world at six thousand years on the basis of sixty as the least number of[Pg 377] years in which the seven planets complete an even number of revolutions.

If nature is often disturbed by the stars, then fate can also be challenged and overcome by a person's will. Bardesanes sets out to prove this in his dialogue titled The Book of the Laws of the Countries, which has been referenced by later writers. His main point is that in different nations, specific laws are applied, or customs are followed by everyone, regardless of their unique individual horoscopes. He gives examples of various prohibitions and practices that he and his audience believe to define the Seres, Brahmans, Persians, Geli, Bactrians, Arabs, Britons, Parthians, Amazons, and other groups. He mentions that among savage tribes, there are no artists, bankers, perfumers, musicians, and poets whose nativities align with the constellations at certain times. Bardesanes acknowledges the astrological theory of seven zones or climates that modify the science of individual horoscopes, but he argues that each of these zones has many different laws. This would still hold true even if the number were increased to twelve, based on the signs, or thirty-six, based on the decans. He also argues that people keep their laws or customs when they move to other climates, citing the loyalty of Jews and Christians to their religious commandments as an example of free will triumphing over fate. He does admit, however, that “in every country and in every nation there are rich and poor, rulers and subjects, and people in good health and those who are sick, each affected by fate and their nativity.” Additionally, he mentions that the astrology of Egypt and that of the Chaldeans in Babylon are the same. At the end of the treatise, there is a note stating that Bardesanes believed the world's duration to be six thousand years, based on sixty being the minimum number of[Pg 377] years required for the seven planets to complete an even number of revolutions.

The Pistis-Sophia: attitude to astrology.

If the work ascribed to Bardesanes is not certainly Gnostic, the Pistis-Sophia is, and we turn next to it and first of all to its attitude towards astrology. This treatise is extant in a Coptic codex of the fifth or sixth century;[1643] the Greek original text was probably written in the second half of the third century. It gives the revelations made by Jesus to his disciples after He had ascended to heaven and returned again to them. When He ascended through the heavens, He changed the fatal influence of the lords of the spheres and made the planets turn to the right for six months of the year, whereas before they had faced the left continually.[1644] In a long passage near the close of the Pistis-Sophia proper[1645] Jesus asserts the absolute control of human destiny hitherto by “the rulers of the fate” and describes how they fashion the new soul, control the process of generation and of the formation of the child in the womb, and decree every event of life down to the day and manner of death. Only by the Gnostic key to the mysteries can one escape their control.[1646] In the following Book of the Saviour, moreover, even the finding of this key is subjected to astral control, since a constellation is described under which all souls descending to this world will be just and good and will discover the mysteries of light.[1647]

If the work attributed to Bardesanes isn’t clearly Gnostic, the Pistis-Sophia definitely is, so let’s look at it next, especially regarding its views on astrology. This text survives in a Coptic manuscript from the fifth or sixth century;[1643] the original Greek text was likely written in the latter half of the third century. It contains the revelations that Jesus shared with his disciples after He ascended to heaven and returned to them. When He ascended through the heavens, He altered the negative influence of the rulers of the spheres, making the planets move to the right for six months of the year, whereas previously they had continuously faced left.[1644] In a lengthy passage near the end of the Pistis-Sophia proper[1645] Jesus declares the complete control that “the rulers of fate” have had over human destiny up to that point, detailing how they shape the new soul, oversee the processes of generation and the formation of the child in the womb, and determine every life event down to the time and manner of death. The only way to escape their control is through the Gnostic understanding of the mysteries.[1646] In the following Book of the Saviour, finding this key is also subject to astral influence, as a constellation is mentioned under which all souls coming to this world will be just and good and will uncover the mysteries of light.[1647]

“Magic” condemned.

The Pistis-Sophia assumes the usual attitude of condemnation of magic so-called. Among the evils which Jesus warns his followers to renounce are superstition and invocations and drugs or magic potions.[1648] One object of his reducing by one-third the power of the lords of the spheres when He ascended through the heavens was that men might not henceforth invoke them by magic rites for evil pur[Pg 378]poses. Marvels may still, however, be accomplished by “those who know the mysteries of the magic of the thirteenth aeon” or power above the spheres.[1649]

The Pistis-Sophia takes the usual stance of condemning what is called magic. Among the evils that Jesus warns his followers to give up are superstition, invocations, and drugs or magical potions.[1648] One reason he reduced the power of the lords of the spheres by a third when he ascended through the heavens was so that people would no longer call on them through magical rites for harmful purposes. However, wonders can still be performed by “those who know the mysteries of the magic of the thirteenth aeon” or power beyond the spheres.[1649]

Power of names and rites.

But while magic is renounced, great faith is shown in the power of names and rites. Thus after a description of the dragon of outer darkness and the twelve main dungeons into which it divides and the animal faces and names of the twelve rulers thereof, who evidently represent in an inaccurate fashion the signs of the zodiac, it is added that even unrepentant sinners, if they know the mystery of any one of these twelve names, can escape from these dungeons.[1650] In the Book of the Saviour Jesus not only utters several long lists of strange and presumably magic words by way of invocation to the Power or powers above, but these are accompanied by careful observance of ceremonial. On both occasions Jesus and the disciples are clad in linen.[1651] In the first case the disciples are carefully grouped with reference to the points of the compass, towards which Jesus turns successively as He utters the magic words standing at a sacrificial altar. The result of this ceremony and invocation was that the heavens were displaced and the earth left behind and that Jesus and the disciples found themselves in the region of mid-air. Before uttering the other invocation Jesus commanded that fire and vine branches be brought, placed an offering on the flame, and carefully arranged two vessels of wine, two cups of water, and as many pieces of bread as there were disciples. In this case the object was to remit the sins of the disciples. In the Book of Jeû in the Bruce Papyrus there is a perfect riot of such magic names and invocations, seals and diagrams, and accompanying ceremonial.[1652]

But while magic is rejected, there is great faith in the power of names and rituals. After explaining the dragon of outer darkness and the twelve main dungeons it divides into, along with the animal faces and names of the twelve rulers, who seem to inaccurately represent the zodiac signs, it’s noted that even unrepentant sinners can escape these dungeons if they know the mystery of any of these twelve names.[1650] In the Book of the Saviour, Jesus not only speaks several long lists of strange and presumably magical words as invocations to the higher Power or powers, but these are also accompanied by strict adherence to ceremony. During both events, Jesus and the disciples wear linen.[1651] In the first instance, the disciples are carefully arranged according to the points of the compass, which Jesus faces one by one as he recites the magical words while standing at a sacrificial altar. The outcome of this ceremony and invocation was that the heavens shifted and the earth was left behind, placing Jesus and the disciples in the region of mid-air. Before making the other invocation, Jesus instructed that fire and vine branches be brought, placed an offering on the flames, and carefully set out two vessels of wine, two cups of water, and as many pieces of bread as there were disciples. The goal here was to forgive the sins of the disciples. In the Book of Jeû from the Bruce Papyrus, there’s a complete abundance of these magical names and invocations, seals, diagrams, and the associated ceremonial practices.[1652]

Interest in natural science.

The interest of the Gnostics in natural science is seen in the list of things that will be known by one who has pene[Pg 379]trated all the mysteries and fully entered upon the inheritance of the kingdom of light. Not only will he understand why there is light and darkness, and why sin and vice exist and life and death, but also why there are reptiles and wild beasts and why they shall be destroyed, why there are birds and beasts of burden, why there are gems and precious metals, why there are brass, iron and steel, lead, glass, wax, herbs, waters, “and why the wild denizens of the sea.” Why there are four points of the compass, why demons and men, why heat and cold, stars, winds, and clouds, frost, snow, planets, aeons, decans, and so on and so forth.[1653]

The Gnostics’ interest in natural science is evident in the list of things one would understand after fully grasping all the mysteries and entering into the inheritance of the kingdom of light. Not only will they comprehend why there is light and darkness, and why sin and wrongdoing exist alongside life and death, but also why there are reptiles and wild animals and why they will be destroyed, why there are birds and working animals, why there are gems and precious metals, why there is brass, iron, and steel, lead, glass, wax, herbs, waters, “and why the wild creatures of the sea exist.” They will also understand why there are four cardinal directions, why there are demons and humans, why there is heat and cold, as well as stars, winds, and clouds, frost, snow, planets, aeons, decans, and so on and so forth.[1653]

“Gnostic gems” and astrology.

King has shown that many of the so-called “Gnostic gems” are purely astrological talismans and that “only a very small minority amidst their multitude present any traces of the influence of Christian doctrines.”[1654] Many are for medicinal or magical purposes rather than of a religious character. Some nevertheless are engraved with the truly Gnostic figure of Pantheus Abraxas which King regards as “the actual invention of Basilides.” Another common symbol, borrowed from Egypt, is the Agathodaemon, which by the third century had become the popular designation of the hooded snake of Egypt, or Chnuphis or Chneph, a great serpent with a lion’s head encircled by a crown of seven or twelve rays, representing the planets or signs. Often the seven Greek vowels are placed at the tips of the seven rays. On the obverse of the gem the letter “s” is engraved thrice and traversed by a straight rod, a design probably meant to depict a snake twisting about a wand. We are reminded, not only with King of the club of Aesculapius, but of Aaron’s rod, the magicians of Pharaoh, and the serpent lifted up in the wilderness; also of Lucian’s tale of the pretended discovery of the god Asclepius by the pseudo-prophet, Alexander. At least one “Gnostic amulet” has on the back the legend “Iao Sabao” (th).[1655]

King has shown that many of the so-called “Gnostic gems” are actually just astrological talismans and that “only a very small minority among their multitude show any signs of the influence of Christian doctrines.”[1654] Many are intended for medicinal or magical uses rather than religious ones. Some, however, are engraved with the distinctly Gnostic figure of Pantheus Abraxas, which King sees as “the actual invention of Basilides.” Another common symbol, taken from Egypt, is the Agathodaemon, which by the third century had become the popular name for the hooded snake of Egypt, or Chnuphis or Chneph, a large serpent with a lion’s head encircled by a crown of seven or twelve rays, representing the planets or signs. Often the seven Greek vowels are positioned at the ends of the seven rays. On the front of the gem, the letter “s” is engraved three times and crossed by a straight rod, a design likely intended to depict a snake winding around a wand. We are reminded, along with King, of the club of Aesculapius, but also of Aaron’s rod, the magicians of Pharaoh, and the serpent lifted up in the wilderness; as well as Lucian’s story of the supposed discovery of the god Asclepius by the false prophet, Alexander. At least one “Gnostic amulet” has the legend “Iao Sabao” (th.) on the back.[1655]

[Pg 380]

[Pg 380]

The planets in early Christian art.

The influence of astrology may be seen in other and more certainly genuine works of early Christian art than many of the so-called Gnostic gems. On a lamp in the catacombs Christ is depicted as the good shepherd with a lamb on His shoulder. Above His head are the seven planets, although the sun and moon are shown again at either side, and about His feet press seven lambs, perhaps an indication that He is freeing the peoples of the seven climes from the fatal influence of the stars. In the Poemander attributed to Hermes it is stated that there are seven peoples from the seven planets. On a gem of perhaps the third century a similar scene is engraved except that the sun and moon are not shown apart from the seven planets, and that the lamb on Christ’s shoulders is counted as one of the seven, so that there are but six at His feet.[1656]

The influence of astrology can be seen in other, more genuinely authentic works of early Christian art than in many of the so-called Gnostic gems. On a lamp in the catacombs, Christ is shown as the good shepherd with a lamb on His shoulder. Above His head are the seven planets, with the sun and moon displayed on either side, and around His feet are seven lambs, possibly signifying that He is liberating the peoples of the seven regions from the harmful effects of the stars. In the Poemander attributed to Hermes, it mentions that there are seven peoples corresponding to the seven planets. On a gem from possibly the third century, a similar scene is engraved, except the sun and moon are not shown separately from the seven planets, and the lamb on Christ's shoulders is counted as one of the seven, resulting in six at His feet.[1656]

Gnostic amulets in Spain.

“Gnostic amulets and other works of art” are occasionally found in Spain, especially the Asturian northwest which remained Christian at the time of the Mohammedan conquest of the rest of the peninsula. One ring is inscribed with the sentence, “Zeus, Serapis, and Iao are one.” On another octagonal ring are Greek letters signifying the Gnostic Anthropos or father of wisdom. A stone is carved with a candelabrum and the seven planets, “the sacred hebdomad of the Chaldeans.”[1657]

“Gnostic amulets and other artworks” are sometimes found in Spain, particularly in the Asturian northwest, which remained Christian during the time of the Muslim conquest of the rest of the peninsula. One ring has the inscription, “Zeus, Serapis, and Iao are one.” Another octagonal ring features Greek letters representing the Gnostic Anthropos or father of wisdom. A stone is carved with a candelabrum and the seven planets, “the sacred hebdomad of the Chaldeans.”[1657]

Syriac Christian charms.

Gollancz in his Selection of Charms from Syriac Manuscripts presents a number of spells and incantations which, whether any of them are Gnostic or not, certainly seem to be Christian, since they mention the divine persons of Christianity, Mary, and various Biblical characters.[1658]

Gollancz in his Selection of Charms from Syriac Manuscripts presents a number of spells and incantations that, whether they are Gnostic or not, definitely appear to be Christian, as they reference the divine figures of Christianity, Mary, and various Biblical characters.[1658]

Priscillian executed for magic.

At the close of the fourth century the views of the Gnostics were revived in Gaul and Spain by Priscillian, who[Pg 381] seems to have been much influenced by astrology and who was put to death at Treves in 385 A. D. on a charge of magic. He confessed under torture, but was afterwards thought innocent. We are not told, however, what the magical practices were of which he was accused.[1659] Both Sulpicius Severus and Isidore of Seville[1660] state that he was accused of maleficium, which should mean witchcraft, sorcery, or magical operations with the intent to injure someone. But further details are wanting, except that Sulpicius calls Priscillian a man “more puffed up than was right with the knowledge of profane things, and who was further believed to have practiced magic arts since adolescence,” while Isidore states that Bishop Itacius (Ithaicus), who was largely responsible for pushing the charges against Priscillian, showed in a book which he wrote against Priscillian’s heresy that “a certain Marcus of Memphis, most learned in magic art, was a disciple of Mani and master of Priscillian.” Priscillian himself states in his extant works that Itacius had accused him of magic in 380. As the final trial proceeded, Itacius gave way as accuser to a public prosecutor (fisci patronus) who continued the case on behalf of the emperor Maximus who seems to have had his eye upon Priscillian’s large fortune. St. Martin of Tours in vain obtained from Maximus a promise that Priscillian should not be put to death.[1661] But his execution brought his persecutor Itacius into such bad odor that he was excommunicated and condemned to exile for the rest of his life.

At the end of the fourth century, the ideas of the Gnostics were revived in Gaul and Spain by Priscillian, who[Pg 381] appears to have been heavily influenced by astrology. He was executed in Treves in 385 A.D. on charges of practicing magic. He confessed under torture but was later believed to be innocent. However, the specific magical practices he was accused of are not detailed. Both Sulpicius Severus and Isidore of Seville[1660] claim that he was charged with maleficium, which typically means witchcraft, sorcery, or magical acts intended to cause harm. More information is lacking, aside from Sulpicius describing Priscillian as a man “more arrogant than appropriate with the knowledge of secular matters, and who was also thought to have practiced magic since he was young,” while Isidore mentions that Bishop Itacius, who played a significant role in presenting the accusations against Priscillian, showed in a book he wrote against Priscillian's heresy that “a certain Marcus of Memphis, who was highly knowledgeable in magical arts, was a student of Mani and mentor to Priscillian.” Priscillian himself states in his surviving writings that Itacius accused him of magic in 380. As the final trial unfolded, Itacius handed over the case to a public prosecutor (fisci patronus) who continued the proceedings on behalf of Emperor Maximus, who seemed to be interested in Priscillian’s considerable wealth. St. Martin of Tours unsuccessfully secured a promise from Maximus that Priscillian would not be executed.[1661] However, Priscillian's execution damaged Itacius's reputation so much that he was excommunicated and sentenced to lifelong exile.

Manichean Manuscripts

We have just heard that Priscillian was taught by a disciple of Mani, while Ephraem Syrus states that Bardesanes[Pg 382] was the teacher of Mani. Augustine in his youth, when a follower of the Manicheans, had been devoted to astrology. This connection between Gnosticism and astrology and Manicheism has been further attested by the fragments of Manichean manuscripts recently discovered in central Asia.[1662] In them the sun-god and moon-god and five other planets play a prominent part. Besides the five planets we have five elements—ether, wind, light, fire, and water—five plants, five trees, and five beings with souls—man, quadrupeds, reptiles, aquatic, and flying animals. The five gods or luminous bodies are represented as good forces who imprisoned five kinds of demons; but the devil had his revenge by imprisoning luminous forces in man, whom he made a microcosm of the universe. And whereas the good spirit had created sun and moon, the devil formed male and female. The great sage of beneficent light then appeared in the world and brought forth from his own five members five liberators—pity, contentment, patience, wisdom, and good faith—corresponding to the five elements just as among the Christians we shall find four virtues and four elements. Then ensued the struggle of the old man with the new man. Although we are commonly told that idolatry and magic were strictly prohibited by the Manicheans, the envoy of light is in one text represented as “employing great magic prayers” in his effort to deliver living beings. When men eat living beings, they offend against the five gods, the earth dry and moist, the five orders of animate beings, the five different herbs and five trees. Other numbers than five appear in these Manichean fragments: four seals of light and four praises, four courts with iron barriers; three vestments and three wheels and three calamities; ten vows and ten layers of heavens above, and eight layers of earth beneath; twelve[Pg 383] great kings and twelve evil natures; thirteen great luminous forces and thirteen parts of the carnal body and thirteen vices,—elsewhere fourteen parts; fifteen enumerations of sins for which forgiveness is sought; fifty days in the year to be observed; and so on.

We just learned that Priscillian was taught by a follower of Mani, while Ephraem Syrus said that Bardesanes[Pg 382] was Mani's teacher. Augustine, in his youth, when he was a follower of the Manicheans, was really into astrology. The link between Gnosticism, astrology, and Manicheism has been further confirmed by the recently discovered fragments of Manichean manuscripts in central Asia.[1662] In these texts, the sun-god, moon-god, and five other planets play a major role. Along with the five planets, there are five elements—ether, wind, light, fire, and water—five plants, five trees, and five beings with souls—humans, quadrupeds, reptiles, aquatic animals, and flying creatures. The five gods or luminous bodies are depicted as good forces that imprisoned five types of demons; however, the devil retaliated by imprisoning the luminous forces within humans, making them a microcosm of the universe. While the good spirit created the sun and moon, the devil created male and female. The great sage of beneficial light then came into the world and produced five liberators from his own five members—pity, contentment, patience, wisdom, and good faith—corresponding to the five elements, much like how Christians have four virtues and four elements. This led to the struggle between the old man and the new man. Although we often hear that the Manicheans strictly prohibited idolatry and magic, one text depicts the envoy of light as “using great magic prayers” in his attempts to save living beings. When people consume living beings, they offend the five gods, the dry and moist earth, the five categories of animated beings, as well as the five different herbs and five trees. Other numbers besides five appear in these Manichean fragments: four seals of light and four praises, four courts with iron barriers; three garments, three wheels, and three calamities; ten vows and ten layers of heaven above, and eight layers of earth below; twelve[Pg 383] great kings and twelve evil natures; thirteen great luminous forces and thirteen parts of the physical body and thirteen vices,—in other texts, fourteen parts; fifteen counts of sins for which forgiveness is requested; fifty days in the year to be observed; and so on.

The Mandaeans.

A sect derived either from Gnosticism or from common sources seems still to exist in the case of the Mandaeans of southern Babylonia.[1663] They believe that the earth and man were formed by a Demiurge, who corresponds to the Ialdabaoth of the Ophites, and who was aided by the spirits of the seven planets. They divide the history of the world into seven ages and represent Jesus Christ as a false prophet and magician produced by the planet Mercury. The lower world consists of four vestibules and three hells proper and has seven iron and seven golden walls. A dying Mandaean is clothed in a holy dress of seven pieces. The spirits of the planets, however, are represented as evil beings, and the first two of three sets of progeny borne by the spirit of hell fire were the seven planets and the twelve signs of the zodiac. The influence of these two numbers, seven and twelve, may be further seen in the regulation that a candidate for the priesthood should be at least nineteen years old and have had twelve years of previous training, which we infer would normally begin when he reached his seventh year and not before. Other prominent numbers in Mandaean lore are five,[1664] perhaps indicative of the planets other than sun and moon, and three hundred and sixty, suggestive of the number of degrees in the circle of the zodiac. Thus the main manifestations of the primal light are five, and the third generation produced by the spirit of hell fire was of like number. The number of aeons is often stated as three hundred and sixty, and the delivering deity or Messiah of the[Pg 384] Mandaeans is said to have sent forth that number of disciples before his return to the realm of light. We hear of yet other numbers, such as 480,000 years for the duration of the world, 60,000, and 240, but these too are commensurate, if not identical, with astrological periods such as those of conjunctions and the magnus annus. A peculiarity of Mandaean astronomy and astrology is that the other heavenly bodies are all believed to rotate about the polar star. Mandaeans always face it when praying; their sanctuaries are built so that persons entering face it; and even the dying man is placed so that his feet point and eyes gaze in its direction. Like the Gnostics, the Mandaeans invoke by many strange names their spirits and aeons who are divided into numerous orders. Their names for the planets seem to be of Babylonian origin. Passages from their sacred books are recited like incantations and are considered more effective in danger and distress than prayer in the ordinary sense of the word. Such recitations are also employed to aid the souls of the dead to ascend through various stages or prisons to the world of light. Earthenware vessels have recently been brought to light with Mandaean inscriptions and incantations to avert evil.[1665]

A group that comes either from Gnosticism or shared origins seems to still exist in the form of the Mandaeans in southern Babylonia. They believe that the earth and humanity were created by a Demiurge, who is similar to the Ialdabaoth of the Ophites and was assisted by the spirits of the seven planets. They divide the history of the world into seven ages and view Jesus Christ as a false prophet and magician created by the planet Mercury. The lower world has four vestibules and three actual hells and is surrounded by seven iron and seven golden walls. A dying Mandaean wears a sacred outfit made of seven pieces. However, the spirits of the planets are portrayed as evil entities, and the first two of three sets of offspring produced by the spirit of hellfire were the seven planets and the twelve signs of the zodiac. The importance of these two numbers, seven and twelve, can also be seen in the rule that a candidate for the priesthood must be at least nineteen years old and have had twelve years of prior training, which we assume typically begins when he turns seven and not earlier. Other significant numbers in Mandaean traditions include five, perhaps referring to the planets other than the sun and moon, and three hundred sixty, which hints at the number of degrees in the zodiac circle. Thus, the primary manifestations of the primal light are five, and the third generation produced by the spirit of hellfire also matched this number. The number of aeons is often said to be three hundred sixty, and the Mandaean delivering deity or Messiah is thought to have sent out that number of disciples before returning to the realm of light. Additional numbers mentioned include 480,000 years for the world's duration, 60,000, and 240, which are likewise related to astrological cycles like conjunctions and the magnus annus. A unique aspect of Mandaean astronomy and astrology is the belief that all other celestial bodies revolve around the North Star. Mandaeans always face it while praying; their temples are oriented so that people entering face it; and even a dying person is positioned so that their feet point and eyes look in its direction. Like the Gnostics, the Mandaeans call upon their spirits and aeons with many strange names categorized into various orders. Their names for the planets seem to have Babylonian roots. Passages from their sacred texts are recited like spells and are considered more potent in times of danger and distress than traditional prayer. Such recitations are also used to help the souls of the dead ascend through different stages or prisons to the world of light. Recently, earthenware vessels with Mandaean inscriptions and incantations designed to ward off evil have been discovered.


[Pg 385]

[Pg 385]

CHAPTER XVI
THE CHRISTIAN APOCRYPHA

Magic in the Bible—Apocryphal Gospels of the Infancy—Question of their date—Their medieval influence—Resemblances to Apuleius and Apollonius in the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy—Counteracting magic and demons—Other miracles and magic by the Christ child—Sometimes with injurious results—Further marvels from the Pseudo-Matthew—Learning of the Christ child—Other charges of magic against Christ and the apostles—The Magi and the star—Allegorical zoology of Barnabas—Traces of Gnosticism in the apocryphal Acts—Legend of St. John—Legend of St. Sousnyos—Old Testament Apocrypha of the Christian era.

Magic in the Bible—Apocryphal Gospels of the Infancy—Question of their date—Their medieval influence—Resemblances to Apuleius and Apollonius in the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy—Counteracting magic and demons—Other miracles and magic performed by the Christ child—Sometimes with harmful effects—Further wonders from the Pseudo-Matthew—Wisdom of the Christ child—Other accusations of magic against Christ and the apostles—The Magi and the star—Allegorical zoology of Barnabas—Traces of Gnosticism in the apocryphal Acts—Legend of St. John—Legend of St. Sousnyos—Old Testament Apocrypha of the Christian era.

Magic in the Bible.

It is hardly necessary to rehearse here in detail the numerous allusions to, prohibitions of, and descriptions of the practice of magic, witchcraft, and astrology, enchantments and exorcisms, divination and interpretation of dreams, which are to be found scattered through the pages of the Old and New Testaments. Such passages had a profound influence upon Christian thought on such themes in the early church and during the middle ages, and we shall have occasion to mention many, if not most, of such scriptural passages, in connection with this later discussion of them by the church fathers and others. For instance, Pharaoh’s magicians and their contests with Moses and Aaron; Balaam and his imprecations and enchantments and prediction that a star would come out of Jacob and a scepter out of Israel; the witch of Endor or ventriloquist and her invocation of what seemed to be the ghost of Samuel; the repeated use of the numbers seven and twelve, suggestive of the planets and signs of the zodiac, as in the twelve cakes of showbread and candlestick with seven branches; the dreams and interpretation of dreams of Joseph and Daniel, not to mention[Pg 386] the former’s silver divining cup;[1666] the wise men who saw Christ’s star in the east; Christ’s own allusion to the shaking of “the powers of the heavens” and the gathering of His elect from the four winds at His second coming; the accusation against Christ that He cast out demons by the aid of the prince of demons; the eclipse of the sun at the time of the crucifixion; the adventures of the apostles with Simon Magus, with Elymas the sorcerer, and with the damsel possessed with a spirit of divination who brought her master much gain by soothsaying; the burning of their books of magic by the vagabond Jewish exorcists; the prohibitions of heathen divination and witchcraft by the Mosaic law and by the prophets; the penalties prescribed for sorcerers in the Book of Revelation; at the same time the legalized practice of similar superstitions, such as the ordeal to test a wife’s faithfulness by making her drink “the bitter water that causeth the curse,”[1667] the engraved gold plate upon the high priest’s forehead,[1668] or the use of Paul’s handkerchief and underwear to cure the sick and dispel demons; the promise to believers in the closing verses or appendix of The Gospel according to St. Mark that they shall cast out devils, speak with new tongues, handle serpents and drink poison without injury, and cure the sick by laying on of hands. The foregoing scarcely exhaust the obvious allusions or analogies to astrology and other magic arts in the Bible, to say nothing of less explicit passages[1669] which were later taken to justify certain occult arts, as Exodus XIII, 9, to support chiromancy, and the Gospel of John XI, 9, to support the astrological doctrine of elections. Suffice it for the present to say that the prevailing atmosphere of the Bible is one of[Pg 387] prophecy, vision, and miracle, and that with these go, like the obverse face of a coin or medal, their inevitable accompaniments of divination, demons, and magic.

It’s not really necessary to go into detail about the many references to, prohibitions of, and descriptions of magic, witchcraft, astrology, enchantments, exorcisms, divination, and dream interpretation found throughout the Old and New Testaments. These passages significantly influenced Christian beliefs on these topics in the early church and during the Middle Ages. We will mention many, if not most, of these scriptural passages in relation to later discussions by the church fathers and others. For example, there are Pharaoh’s magicians and their contests with Moses and Aaron; Balaam and his curses, enchantments, and the prediction that a star would come from Jacob and a scepter from Israel; the witch of Endor—or ventriloquist—and her invocation of what seemed to be the ghost of Samuel; the repeated use of the numbers seven and twelve, which suggest the planets and zodiac signs, such as in the twelve cakes of showbread and the seven-branched candlestick; the dreams and their interpretations by Joseph and Daniel, not to mention Joseph’s silver divining cup; the wise men who saw Christ’s star in the east; Christ’s reference to the shaking of “the powers of the heavens” and the gathering of His chosen ones from the four winds at His second coming; the accusation against Christ that He cast out demons with the help of the prince of demons; the eclipse of the sun at the time of the crucifixion; the adventures of the apostles with Simon Magus, Elymas the sorcerer, and the girl possessed with a spirit of divination who brought her master a lot of money through soothsaying; the burning of their magic books by the wandering Jewish exorcists; the prohibitions against pagan divination and witchcraft in the Mosaic law and by the prophets; the penalties for sorcerers in the Book of Revelation; while at the same time, the legal practice of similar superstitions, like the trial to test a wife’s faithfulness by making her drink “the bitter water that causes the curse,” the engraved gold plate on the high priest’s forehead, or the use of Paul’s handkerchief and clothing to heal the sick and drive out demons; the promise to believers in the closing verses or appendix of The Gospel according to St. Mark that they will cast out demons, speak in new languages, handle snakes, drink poison without harm, and heal the sick by laying on hands. The above points barely cover the obvious references or parallels to astrology and other magical practices in the Bible, not to mention less explicit passages that were later interpreted to justify certain occult practices, such as Exodus XIII, 9, to support palmistry, and John XI, 9, to back the astrological view of elections. It is enough to say for now that the overall atmosphere of the Bible is one of prophecy, vision, and miracle, accompanied by the inevitable presence of divination, demons, and magic.

Apocryphal gospels of the infancy.

This is also the case in apocryphal literature of the New Testament which is now so much less familiar and accessible especially to English readers,[1670] but which had wide currency in the early Christian and medieval periods. We may begin with the apocryphal gospels and more particularly those dealing with the infancy and childhood of Christ. Of these two are believed to date from the second century, namely, the Gospel of James or “Gospel of the Infancy” (Protoevangelium Iacobi)[1671] and the Gospel of St. Thomas, which is mentioned by Hippolytus. However, he cites a sentence which is not in the present text—of which the manuscripts are scanty and for the most part of late date[1672]—and the gospel as we have it is not Gnostic, as he says it is, so that our version has probably been altered by some Catholic.[1673] Later in date is the Latin gospel of the Pseudo-Matthew—perhaps of the fourth or fifth century—and the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy, which is believed to be a translation from a lost Syriac original. We are the worst off of all for manuscripts of its text and apparently there is no Latin manuscript of it now extant, although a Latin[Pg 388] text has reached us through the printed editions. Tischendorf was, however, “unwilling to omit in this new collection of the apocryphal gospels that ancient and memorable monument of the superstition of oriental Christians,” and for the same reason we shall survey its medley of miracle and magic in the present chapter. Speaking of the flight into Egypt this gospel says, “And the Lord Jesus performed a great many miracles in Egypt which are not found recorded either in the Gospel of the Infancy or in the Perfect Gospel.”[1674] Tischendorf noted the close resemblance of its first nine chapters to the Gospel of James and of chapters 36-55 to the Gospel of Thomas, while the intervening chapters “contain especially fables of the sort you may fittingly call oriental, filled with allusions to Satan and demons and sorceries and magic arts.”[1675] We find, however, the same sort of fables in the other three apocryphal gospels; there are simply more of them in the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy. It appears to be a compilation and may embody other earlier sources no longer extant as well as passages from the pseudo-James and pseudo-Thomas.

This is also true in the apocryphal literature of the New Testament, which is now much less familiar and accessible, especially to English readers, [1670] but which was widely known in the early Christian and medieval periods. We can start with the apocryphal gospels, particularly those that focus on the infancy and childhood of Christ. Of these, two are believed to date back to the second century: the Gospel of James, or “Gospel of the Infancy” (Protoevangelium Iacobi) [1671] and the Gospel of St. Thomas, which is mentioned by Hippolytus. However, he quotes a sentence that is not in the current text—of which the manuscripts are limited and mostly later in date [1672]—and the gospel we have is not Gnostic, as he claims, suggesting that our version has likely been altered by some Catholic source. [1673] Later in time is the Latin gospel of Pseudo-Matthew—possibly from the fourth or fifth century—and the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy, which is thought to be a translation of a lost Syriac original. We have the least amount of manuscripts for this text, and apparently, there is no surviving Latin manuscript of it, although a Latin [Pg 388] text has come down to us through printed editions. Tischendorf was, however, “unwilling to leave out of this new collection of apocryphal gospels that ancient and notable representation of the superstition of Eastern Christians,” and for the same reason, we will examine its collection of miracles and magic in this chapter. Speaking of the flight into Egypt, this gospel states, “And the Lord Jesus performed many miracles in Egypt that are not recorded in either the Gospel of the Infancy or the Perfect Gospel.” [1674] Tischendorf noted the close similarity of its first nine chapters to the Gospel of James and chapters 36-55 to the Gospel of Thomas, while the chapters in between “contain especially fables that you could rightly call oriental, filled with references to Satan, demons, sorcery, and magic arts.” [1675] However, we find the same types of fables in the other three apocryphal gospels; there are just more of them in the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy. It seems to be a compilation and may include other earlier sources that are no longer available, as well as passages from pseudo-James and pseudo-Thomas.

Question of their date.

There is a tendency on the part of orthodox Christian scholars to defer the writing of apocryphal works to as late a date as possible, and they seem to have a notion that they can save the credibility or purity of the miracles of the New Testament[1676] by representing such miracles as those recorded of the infancy of Christ as the inventions of a later age. And it is probably true that all these marvels were not the invention of a single century but of a succession of[Pg 389] centuries. On the other hand, I know of no reason for thinking Christians of the first century any less credulous than Christians of the fifth century; it was not until the latter century that Pope Gelasius’ condemnation of apocryphal books was drawn up, but apocryphal books had long been in existence before that time; nor for thinking the Christians of the thirteenth century any more credulous than those of the other two centuries. It is only in our own age that Christians have become really critical of such matters. Moreover, these unacceptable miracles, whenever they were invented, were presumably invented by and accepted by Christians, who must bear the discredit for them. Whatever the century was, the same men believed in them who believed in the miracles recorded in the New Testament. If the plant has flowered into such rank superstition, can the original seed escape responsibility? The Arabic Gospel of the Infancy is no doubt an extreme instance of Christian credence in magic, but it is an instance that cannot be overlooked, whatever its date, place, or language.

There’s a trend among traditional Christian scholars to date apocryphal works as late as possible. They seem to believe that by portraying miracles, like those from Christ's infancy, as creations of a later time, they can protect the credibility or purity of the miracles in the New Testament[1676]. It’s likely true that these wonders didn’t all come from a single century but from a series of[Pg 389] centuries. However, I see no reason to think that first-century Christians were any less gullible than those in the fifth century; Pope Gelasius condemned apocryphal books only in the fifth century, yet they had been around long before then. Nor can we assume that thirteenth-century Christians were any more gullible than those from the previous centuries. It’s only in our current age that Christians have started to really question these issues. Additionally, these questionable miracles, whenever they were created, were likely made and accepted by Christians who must take the blame for them. Regardless of the century, the same believers embraced these tales that accepted the miracles found in the New Testament. If such strong superstition has developed, can the original source escape blame? The Arabic Gospel of the Infancy is certainly an extreme example of Christian belief in magic, but it’s one that can’t be ignored, no matter when, where, or in what language it appeared.

Their medieval influence.

These apocryphal gospels of the Infancy, which are in part extant only in Latin, continued to be influential in the medieval period. At the beginning of it we find included in Pope Gelasius’ list of apocryphal works, published at a synod at Rome in 494,[1677] besides apocryphal gospels of Matthew and of Thomas—which last we are told, “the Manicheans use”—a Liber de infantia Salvatoris and a Liber de nativitate Salvatoris et de Maria et obstetrice. There are numerous manuscripts of such gospels in the later medieval centuries but it would not be safe to attempt to identify or classify them without examining each in detail. As Tischendorf said, the Latins do not seem to have long remained content with mere translations of the Greek pseudo-gospel of James but combined the stories told there with others from the Pseudo-Thomas or other sources into new[Pg 390] apocryphal treatises. Thus the extant Latin apocrypha in no case reproduce the Gospel of James accurately but rather are imitated after it, and include some of it, omit some of it, embellish some of its tales, and add to it.[1678] Mâle states in his work on religious art in France in the thirteenth century that The Gospel of the Pseudo-Matthew and The Gospel of Nicodemus or Acts of Pilate were the two apocryphal gospels especially used in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.[1679]

These unofficial gospels about Jesus' early life, which mostly survive only in Latin, were significant during the medieval period. At the start of this era, Pope Gelasius included them in his list of apocryphal works, published at a synod in Rome in 494, along with the apocryphal gospels of Matthew and Thomas—of which we are told, “the Manicheans use”—and the Liber de infantia Salvatoris and Liber de nativitate Salvatoris et de Maria et obstetrice. There are many manuscripts of these gospels from the later medieval centuries, but it wouldn't be wise to try to identify or categorize them without looking at each one closely. As Tischendorf noted, the Latins didn't seem to be satisfied with just translating the Greek pseudo-gospel of James; they combined the stories from there with others from Pseudo-Thomas or different sources to create new[Pg 390] apocryphal writings. Thus, the existing Latin apocrypha do not accurately reproduce the Gospel of James but rather imitate it, including some parts, leaving some out, embellishing some stories, and adding to them. Mâle mentions in his work on religious art in France from the thirteenth century that The Gospel of the Pseudo-Matthew and The Gospel of Nicodemus or Acts of Pilate were the two especially popular apocryphal gospels in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.

Resemblances to Apuleius and Apollonius in the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy.

That the fables of the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy were at least not fresh from the orient is indicated by the way in which some of the incidents in the stories of Apuleius and Apollonius of Tyana are closely paralleled.[1680] In the parlor of a well furnished house where lived two sisters with their widowed mother stood a mule caparisoned in silk and with an ebony collar about his neck, “whom they kissed and were feeding.”[1681] He was their brother, transformed into a mule by the sorcery of a jealous woman one night a little before daybreak, although all the doors of the house were locked at the time. “And we,” they tell a girl who had been instantly cured of leprosy by use of perfumed water in which the Christ child had been washed and who had then become the maid-servant of the virgin Mary,[1682] “have applied to all the wise men, magicians, and diviners in the world, but they have been of no service to us.”[1683] The girl recommends them to consult Mary, who restores their brother to human form by placing the Christ child upon his back. This romantic episode is then brought to a fitting conclusion by the marriage of the brother to the girl who had assisted in his restoration to his right body. As the demon, who[Pg 391] in the form of an artful beggar was causing the plague at Ephesus and whom Apollonius had stoned to death, turned at the last moment into a mad dog, so Satan, when forced by the presence of the Christ child to leave the boy Judas, ran away like a mad dog.[1684] The reviving of a corpse by an Egyptian prophet in the Metamorphoses in order that the dead man may tell who murdered him is paralleled in both the Arabic Infancy and the gospels of Thomas and the Pseudo-Matthew by the conduct of Jesus when accused of throwing another boy down from a house-top. The text reads: “Then the Lord Jesus going down stood over the dead boy and said with a loud voice, ‘Zeno, Zeno, who threw you down from the house-top?’ Then the dead boy answered, ‘Lord, thou didst not throw me down, but so-and-so did.’”[1685]

That the stories in the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy weren't entirely new from the East is suggested by how some events in the tales of Apuleius and Apollonius of Tyana closely resemble them. In the living room of a well-furnished house where two sisters lived with their widowed mother, there stood a mule adorned in silk and wearing an ebony collar, “whom they kissed and were feeding.” He was their brother, turned into a mule by the magic of a jealous woman one night just before dawn, even though all the doors of the house were locked at that time. “And we,” they tell a girl who had just been cured of leprosy by the perfumed water in which the Christ child had been washed and who then became the maid-servant of the Virgin Mary, “have consulted all the wise men, magicians, and diviners in the world, but they haven't helped us at all.” The girl suggests they ask Mary, who restores their brother to his human form by placing the Christ child on his back. This romantic storyline concludes with the brother marrying the girl who had helped bring him back to his rightful body. Just as the demon, taking the form of a cunning beggar, was causing a plague in Ephesus and whom Apollonius had stoned to death, turned into a mad dog at the last moment, so Satan, compelled by the presence of the Christ child to leave the boy Judas, fled like a mad dog. The revival of a corpse by an Egyptian prophet in the Metamorphoses, so that the dead man could reveal who murdered him, parallels the actions of Jesus, when He was accused of throwing another boy off a rooftop. The text states: “Then the Lord Jesus went down, stood over the dead boy, and said with a loud voice, ‘Zeno, Zeno, who threw you down from the house-top?’ Then the dead boy replied, ‘Lord, you didn’t throw me down, but so-and-so did.’”

Counteracting magic and demons.

Many were the occasions upon which the Christ child or his mother counteracted the operations of magic or relieved persons who were possessed by demons. Kissing him cured a bride whom sorcerers had made dumb at her wedding,[1686] and a bridegroom who was kept by sorcery from enjoying his wife was cured of his impotence by the mere presence of the holy family who lodged in his house for the night.[1687] Mary’s pitying glance was sufficient to expel Satan from a woman possessed by demons.[1688] Another upright woman who was often vexed by Satan in the form of a serpent when she went to bathe in the river,[1689] which reminds one somewhat of Olympias and Nectanebus,[1690] was permanently cured by kissing the Christ child. And a girl, whose blood Satan used to suck, miraculously discomfited him when he[Pg 392] appeared in the shape of a huge dragon by putting upon her head and about her eyes a swaddling cloth of Jesus which Mary had given to her. Fire then went forth and was scattered upon the dragon’s head and eyes, as from the blinking eyes of the artful beggar who caused the plague in the Life of Apollonius of Tyana, and he fled in a panic.[1691] A priest’s three-year-old son who was possessed by a great multitude of devils, who uttered many strange things, and who threw stones at everybody, was likewise cured by placing on his head one of Christ’s swaddling clothes which Mary had hung out to dry. In this case the devils made their escape through his mouth “in the shape of crows and serpents.”[1692] Such marvels may offend modern taste but have their probable prototype in the miracles wrought by use of Paul’s handkerchief and underwear in the New Testament and illustrate, like the placing of spittle on the eyes of the blind man, the great healing virtue then ascribed to the perspiration and other secretions and excretions of the human body.

Many were the times when the Christ child or his mother intervened against magic or helped people who were possessed by demons. Kissing him cured a bride who had been made mute by sorcerers at her wedding, and a groom who was prevented by sorcery from enjoying his wife was healed of his impotence simply by the presence of the holy family who stayed at his house for the night. Mary’s compassionate glance was enough to drive Satan out of a woman who was possessed by demons. Another righteous woman, who was often tormented by Satan in the form of a serpent when she went to bathe in the river, was permanently healed by kissing the Christ child. And a girl, from whom Satan used to suck blood, miraculously overcame him when he appeared as a giant dragon by putting a swaddling cloth of Jesus, given to her by Mary, on her head and over her eyes. Fire then erupted and scattered onto the dragon’s head and eyes, just like the sparkling eyes of the clever beggar who caused the plague in the *Life of Apollonius of Tyana*, making him flee in terror. A priest’s three-year-old son, who was possessed by a great number of devils, spoke many strange things, and threw stones at everyone, was also cured when one of Christ’s swaddling clothes that Mary had hung out to dry was placed on his head. In this case, the devils escaped through his mouth “in the shape of crows and serpents.” Such wonders may not appeal to modern sensibilities but likely have their origins in the miracles performed through Paul’s handkerchief and garments in the New Testament and illustrate, like the application of spittle to the eyes of the blind man, the significant healing power that was once attributed to the sweat and other bodily fluids and excretions of humans.

Other miracles and magic by the Christ child.

Sick children as well as lepers were cured by the water in which Jesus had bathed or by wearing coats made of his swaddling clothes,[1693] while the child Bartholomew was snatched from the very jaws of death by the mere smell of the Christ child’s garments the moment he was placed on Jesus’ bed.[1694] On the road to Egypt is a balsam which was produced “from the sweat which ran down there from the Lord Jesus.”[1695] The Christ child cured snake-bite, in the case of his brother James by blowing on it, in the case of his playfellow, Simon the Canaanite, by forcing the serpent who had stung him to come out of its hole and suck all the poison from the wound, after which he cursed the snake “so that it immediately burst asunder and died.”[1696] When the boy Jesus took all the cloths waiting to be dyed with different colors in a dyer’s shop and threw them into the furnace, the dyer began to scold him for this mischief, but the cloths all[Pg 393] came out of the desired colors.[1697] Jesus also miraculously remedied the defective carpentry of Joseph, who had worked for two years on a throne for the king of Jerusalem and made it too short. Jesus and Joseph took hold of the opposite sides and pulled the throne out to the required dimensions.[1698]

Sick kids and lepers were healed by the water that Jesus bathed in or by wearing coats made from his swaddling clothes, while little Bartholomew was saved from death just by the smell of the Christ child's clothes the moment he was laid on Jesus' bed. On the way to Egypt, there’s a balsam produced “from the sweat that ran down there from the Lord Jesus.” The Christ child healed snake bites; for his brother James, he blew on it, and for his playmate Simon the Canaanite, he made the snake that bit him come out of its hole and suck the poison from the wound. Then he cursed the snake “so that it immediately burst apart and died.” When young Jesus took all the cloths meant to be dyed different colors in a dyer's shop and tossed them into the furnace, the dyer started to scold him for his mischief, but all the cloths came out the colors he wanted. Jesus also miraculously fixed the faulty carpentry of Joseph, who had spent two years making a throne for the king of Jerusalem that turned out too short. Jesus and Joseph grabbed opposite sides and stretched the throne to the right size.

Sometimes with injurious results.

The usual result of the Christ child’s miracles was that all the bystanders united in praising God. But when his little playmates went home and told their parents how he had made his clay animals walk and his clay birds fly, eat, and drink, their elders said, “Take heed, children, for the future of his company, for he is a sorcerer; shun and avoid him, and from henceforth never play with him.”[1699] Indeed, if the theory of the fathers is correct that the surest hall-mark by which divine miracles may be distinguished from feats of magic is that the former are never wrought for any evil end while the latter are, it must be admitted that his contemporaries were sometimes justified in suspecting the Christ child of resort to magic. After his playmates had been thus forbidden to associate with Jesus, they hid from him in a furnace, and some women at a house near by told him that there were not boys but kids in the furnace. Jesus then actually transformed them into kids who came skipping forth at his command.[1700] It is true that he soon changed them back into human form, and that the women worshiped Christ and asserted their conviction that he was “come to save and not to destroy.” But on several subsequent occasions Jesus is represented in the apocryphal gospels of the infancy as causing the death of his playmates. When another boy broke a little fish-pool which Jesus had constructed on the Sabbath day, he said to him, “In like manner as this water has vanished, so shall thy life vanish,” and the boy pres[Pg 394]ently died.[1701] When a third boy ran into Jesus and knocked him down, he said, “As thou hast thrown me down, so shalt thou fall, nor ever rise;” and that instant the boy fell down and died.[1702] When Jesus’ teacher started to whip him, his hand withered and he died. After which we are not surprised to hear Joseph say to Mary, “Henceforth we will not allow him to go out of the house; for everyone who displeases him is killed.”[1703]

The usual outcome of the Christ child's miracles was that everyone watching would join in praising God. But when his little friends went home and told their parents how he made his clay animals walk, and his clay birds fly, eat, and drink, the adults warned, “Watch out, kids, for the future of his company; he’s a sorcerer. Stay away from him, and from now on, don’t play with him.”[1699] Indeed, if the fathers' theory is correct that the surest mark distinguishing divine miracles from magic is that the former are never done for evil purposes while the latter often are, it must be acknowledged that his contemporaries sometimes had reason to suspect the Christ child of practicing magic. After being forbidden from playing with Jesus, his friends hid from him in a furnace, and some women nearby told him there were not boys but kids in the furnace. Jesus then actually turned them into kids who came skipping out at his command.[1700] It’s true that he quickly changed them back into human form, and the women worshiped Christ, declaring their belief that he was “come to save and not to destroy.” However, on several later occasions, Jesus is portrayed in the apocryphal gospels of infancy as causing the deaths of his playmates. When another boy broke a small fishpond that Jesus had made on the Sabbath, he told him, “Just as this water has disappeared, so shall your life disappear,” and the boy soon died.[1701] When a third boy bumped into Jesus and knocked him down, he said, “Just as you have pushed me down, so shall you fall and never get up again;” and at that moment, the boy fell down and died.[1702] When Jesus’ teacher tried to whip him, his hand withered and he died. After that, it’s no surprise to hear Joseph telling Mary, “From now on, we won’t let him leave the house; because everyone who displeases him ends up dead.”[1703]

Further marvels from the Pseudo-Matthew.

As has been indicated in the footnotes many of the foregoing marvels are recounted in the Pseudo-Matthew and Latin Gospel of Thomas as well as in the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy. The Pseudo-Matthew also tells how lions adored the Christ child and were bade by him to go in peace.[1704] And how he “took a dead child by the ear and suspended him from the earth in the sight of all. And they saw Jesus speaking with him like a father with his son. And his spirit returned unto him and he lived again. And all marveled thereat.”[1705] When a rich man named Joseph died and was lamented, Jesus asked his father Joseph why he did not help his dead namesake. When Joseph asked what there was that he could do, Jesus replied, “Take the handkerchief which is on your head and go and put it over the face of the corpse and say to him, ‘May Christ save you.’” Joseph followed these instructions except that he said, “Salvet te Iesus,” instead of “Salvet te Christus,” which was possibly the reason why the dead man upon reviving asked, “Who is Jesus?”[1706]

As noted in the footnotes, many of the wonders mentioned above are described in the Pseudo-Matthew, the Latin Gospel of Thomas, and the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy. The Pseudo-Matthew also recounts how lions worshiped the Christ child and were told by him to go in peace.[1704] It describes how he “took a dead child by the ear and lifted him off the ground in front of everyone. They saw Jesus talking to him like a father talks to his son. Then his spirit returned, and he came back to life. Everyone was amazed at this.”[1705] When a wealthy man named Joseph died and people mourned, Jesus asked his father Joseph why he didn’t help his dead namesake. When Joseph asked what he could do, Jesus said, “Take the handkerchief that’s on your head, go and place it over the face of the corpse, and say to him, ‘May Christ save you.’” Joseph did what he was told, but instead of saying, “Salvet te Christus,” he said, “Salvet te Iesus,” which might explain why the revived man asked, “Who is Jesus?”[1706]

Learning of the Christ child.

While no very elaborate paraphernalia or ceremonial were involved in the miracles ascribed to the Christ child in the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy, it is perhaps worth noting that he was already possessed of all learning and nonplussed his masters, when they tried to teach him the alpha[Pg 395]bet, by asking the most abstruse questions. And when he appeared before the doctors in the temple, he expounded to them not only the books of the law,[1707] but natural philosophy, astronomy, physics and metaphysics, physiology, anatomy, and psychology. He is represented as telling them “the number of the spheres and heavenly bodies, as also their triangular, square, and sextile aspect; their progressive and retrograde motion; their twenty-fourths and sixtieths of twenty-fourths” (perhaps corresponding to our hours and minutes!) “and other things which the reason of man had never discovered.” Furthermore, “the powers also of the body, its humors and their effects; also the number of its members, and bones, veins, arteries, and nerves; the several constitutions of the body, hot and dry, cold and moist, and the tendencies of them; how the soul operates upon the body; what its various sensations and faculties are; the faculty of speaking, anger, desire; and lastly, the manner of the body’s composition and dissolution, and other things which the understanding of no creature had ever reached.”[1708] It may be added that in the apocryphal epistles supposed to have been interchanged between Christ and Abgarus, king of Edessa, that monarch writes to Christ, “I have been informed about you and your cures, which are performed without the use of herbs and medicines.”[1709]

While there weren't any elaborate rituals or formal ceremonies involved in the miracles attributed to the Christ child in the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy, it's noteworthy that he already had complete knowledge and astonished his teachers when they tried to teach him the alphabet by asking him the toughest questions. When he spoke to the scholars in the temple, he not only interpreted the books of the law but also discussed natural philosophy, astronomy, physics, metaphysics, physiology, anatomy, and psychology. He is depicted as explaining to them “the number of spheres and heavenly bodies, their triangular, square, and sextile alignments; their forward and backward movements; their twenty-fourths and sixtieths of twenty-fourths” (perhaps similar to our hours and minutes!) “and other things that human reason has never uncovered.” Additionally, “the functions of the body, its fluids and their effects; the count of its members, bones, veins, arteries, and nerves; the various body types, hot and dry, cold and moist, and their tendencies; how the soul interacts with the body; its several sensations and abilities; the ability to speak, express anger, and desire; and finally, the way the body is made and breaks down, along with other concepts that no living being has ever understood.” It can also be noted that in the supposed letters exchanged between Christ and Abgarus, the king of Edessa, the king writes to Christ, “I have heard about you and your healings, which are done without the use of herbs and medicines.”

Other charges of magic against Christ and the apostles.

Jesus is again accused of magic in The Gospel of Nicodemus or Acts of Pontius Pilate, where the Jews tell Pilate that he is a conjurer. After Pilate has been warned by his wife, the Jews repeat, “Did we not say unto thee, He is a magician? Behold, he hath caused thy wife to dream.”[1710] In the Acts of Paul and Thecla, to which Tertullian refers and which are now seen to be an excerpt from the apocry[Pg 396]phal Acts of Paul, discovered in 1899 in a Coptic papyrus,[1711] the mob similarly cries out against Paul, “He is a magician; away with him.” In the Acts of Peter and Andrew[1712] they are both accused of being sorcerers by Onesiphorus, who also, however, denies that Peter can make a camel go through the eye of a needle. Nor is he satisfied when the feat is successfully performed with a needle and camel of Peter’s selection, but insists upon its being repeated with an animal and instrument of his own selection. Onesiphorus also has “a polluted woman” ride upon his camel’s back, apparently with the idea that this will break the magic spell. But Peter sends the camel through the eye of the needle, “which opened up like a gate,” as successfully as before, and also back again through it once more from the opposite direction.

Jesus is again accused of magic in The Gospel of Nicodemus or Acts of Pontius Pilate, where the Jews tell Pilate that he is a magician. After Pilate has been warned by his wife, the Jews repeat, “Did we not tell you, He is a magician? Look, he has made your wife dream.”[1710] In the Acts of Paul and Thecla, which Tertullian mentions and are now considered to be an excerpt from the apocryphal Acts of Paul, discovered in 1899 in a Coptic papyrus, [1711] the crowd also yells against Paul, “He is a magician; get rid of him.” In the Acts of Peter and Andrew [1712] they are both accused of being sorcerers by Onesiphorus, who also denies that Peter can make a camel pass through the eye of a needle. He isn't satisfied when the trick is successfully done with a needle and a camel chosen by Peter, but demands it be repeated with an animal and a tool of his own choice. Onesiphorus also has “a polluted woman” ride on his camel's back, apparently thinking that this will break the magical spell. But Peter sends the camel through the eye of the needle, “which opened up like a gate,” just as successfully as before, and again through it from the opposite side.

The Magi and the star.

Some details are added by the apocrypha to the account of the star at Christ’s birth. The Arabic Gospel states that Zoroaster (Zeraduscht) had predicted the coming of the Magi, that Mary gave the Magi one of Christ’s swaddling clothes, that they were guided on their homeward journey by an angel in the form of the star which had led them to Bethlehem, and that after their return they found that the swaddling cloth would not burn in fire.[1713] The Epistle of Ignatius to the Ephesians states that this star shone with a brightness far exceeding all others, filling men with fear, and that with its coming the power of magic was destroyed and the new kingdom of God ushered in.[1714]

Some details added by the apocrypha to the story of the star at Christ’s birth include the Arabic Gospel, which mentions that Zoroaster (Zeraduscht) predicted the arrival of the Magi, that Mary gave one of Christ’s swaddling clothes to the Magi, that they were guided on their way home by an angel in the form of the star that had led them to Bethlehem, and that after their return, they discovered the swaddling cloth wouldn’t burn in fire.[1713] The Epistle of Ignatius to the Ephesians says that this star shone brighter than all the others, filling people with fear, and that with its arrival, the power of magic was destroyed and the new kingdom of God was established.[1714]

Allegorical zoology of Barnabas.

In the apocryphal Epistle of Barnabas occurs some of that allegorical zoology which we are apt to associate especially with the Physiologus. In its ninth chapter the hyena and weasel are adduced as examples of its contention that the Mosaic distinction between clean and unclean animals has a spiritual meaning. Thus the command not to eat the hyena means not to be an adulterer or corrupter of[Pg 397] others, for the hyena changes its sex annually. The weasel which conceives with its mouth signifies persons with unclean mouths. In the Acts of Barnabas he cures the sick of Cyprus by laying a copy of the Gospel of Matthew upon their bodies.[1715]

In the unofficial Epistle of Barnabas, there’s some of that symbolic animal symbolism we usually link to the Physiologus. In chapter nine, the hyena and weasel are mentioned as examples to support the idea that the Mosaic distinction between clean and unclean animals has a spiritual meaning. So, the command not to eat the hyena actually means not to be an adulterer or someone who corrupts others, because the hyena changes its sex every year. The weasel, which conceives through its mouth, represents people with impure speech. In the Acts of Barnabas, he heals the sick in Cyprus by placing a copy of the Gospel of Matthew on their bodies.[Pg 397]

Traces of Gnosticism in the apocryphal Acts.

If we turn again to the various apocryphal Acts, where we have already noted charges of magic made against the apostles, we may find traces of gnosticism which have already been noted by Anz.[1716] In the Acts of Thomas the Holy Ghost is called the pitying mother of seven houses whose rest is the eighth house of heaven. In the Acts of Philip that apostle prays, “Come now, Jesus, and give me the eternal crown of victory over every hostile power ... Lord Jesus Christ ... lead me on ... until I overcome all the cosmic powers and the evil dragon who opposes us. Now therefore Lord Jesus Christ make me to come to Thee in the air.” The Acts of John, too, speak of overcoming fire and darkness and angels and demons and archons and powers of darkness who separate man from God.

If we look again at the various apocryphal Acts, where we've already noted accusations of magic against the apostles, we may find hints of gnosticism that Anz has already pointed out. In the Acts of Thomas, the Holy Spirit is referred to as the compassionate mother of seven houses, with the eighth house being the realm of heaven. In the Acts of Philip, that apostle prays, “Come now, Jesus, and grant me the eternal crown of victory over every hostile force... Lord Jesus Christ... guide me... until I conquer all the cosmic powers and the evil dragon that stands against us. Therefore, Lord Jesus Christ, let me ascend to You in the air.” The Acts of John also mention conquering fire, darkness, and the angels, demons, archons, and forces of darkness that keep humanity apart from God.

Legend of John.

We deal in another chapter with the struggle of the apostles with Simon Magus as recounted in the apocryphal Acts of Peter and Paul, and with similar legends of the contests of other apostles with magicians. Here, however, we may mention some of the marvels in the apocryphal legend of St. John, supposed to have been written by his disciple Procharus and “which deluded the Greek Church by its air of sincerity and its extreme precision of detail,”[1717] although it does not seem to have reached the west until the sixteenth century. John is represented as drinking without injury a poison which had killed two criminals, and as reviving two corpses without going near them by directing an incredulous pagan to lay his cloak over them. A Stoic philosopher had[Pg 398] persuaded some young men to embrace the life of poverty by converting their property into gems and then pounding the gems to pieces. John made the criticism that this wealth might have better been distributed among the poor, and when challenged to do so by the Stoic, prayed to God and had the gems made whole again. Later when the young men longed for their departed wealth, he turned the pebbles on the seashore into gold and precious stones, a miracle which is said to have persuaded the medieval alchemists that he possessed the secret of the philosopher’s stone.[1718] At any rate Adam of St. Victor in the twelfth century wrote the following lines concerning St. John in a chant to be used in the church service:

We discuss in another chapter the apostles' conflict with Simon Magus, as described in the apocryphal Acts of Peter and Paul, along with other similar legends of apostles battling magicians. For now, we can highlight some of the wonders found in the apocryphal tale of St. John, thought to be written by his disciple Procharus and “which fooled the Greek Church with its apparent sincerity and detailed accuracy,”[1717] although it likely didn't reach the West until the sixteenth century. John is depicted as drinking a poison that killed two criminals without harm, and as reviving two corpses from a distance by instructing a skeptical pagan to cover them with his cloak. A Stoic philosopher convinced some young men to adopt a life of poverty by turning their possessions into gems and then smashing the gems to pieces. John pointed out that this wealth could have been better shared with the poor, and when the Stoic dared him to do it, he prayed to God and managed to restore the gems. Later, when the young men regretted their lost riches, he transformed pebbles on the beach into gold and precious stones, a miracle that is said to have led medieval alchemists to believe he knew the secret of the philosopher’s stone.[1718] In any case, Adam of St. Victor in the twelfth century wrote the following lines about St. John for a church service chant:

Cum gemmarum partes fractas
Solidasset, has distractas
Tribuit pauperibus;
Inexhaustum fert thesaurum
Qui de virgis fecit aurum,
Gemmas de lapidibus.[1719]
Legend of St. Sousnyos.

The brief legend of St. Sousnyos, which Basset has included in his edition of Ethiopian Apocrypha,[1720] is all magic, beginning with an incantation or magic prayer against disease and demons. There is also a Slavonic version. This Sousnyos is presumably the same as the Sisinnios who is said by the author of the apocryphal Acts of Archelaus,[1721] forged about 330-340 A. D., to have abandoned Mani, embraced Christianity, and revealed to Archelaus secret teachings which enabled him to triumph over his adversary.

The short legend of St. Sousnyos, included by Basset in his edition of Ethiopian Apocrypha, [1720] is primarily about magic, starting with an incantation or magical prayer against illness and demons. There's also a Slavonic version. This Sousnyos is likely the same person as Sisinnios, who the author of the apocryphal Acts of Archelaus, [1721] written around 330-340 A.D., claims abandoned Mani, embraced Christianity, and shared secret teachings with Archelaus that helped him overcome his opponent.

[Pg 399]

[Pg 399]

Old Testament apocrypha of the Christian era.

While on the subject, mention may be made of two works which properly belong to the apocrypha of the Old Testament, but which first appear during the Christian era and so fall within our period. The Ascension of Isaiah,[1722] of which the old Latin version was printed at Venice in 1522, and which dates back to the second century, is something like the Book of Enoch, describing Isaiah’s ascent through the seven heavens and vision of the mission of Christ. In the Book of Baruch, of which the original version was written in Greek by a Christian of the third or fourth century,[1723] the most interesting episode is the magic sleep into which, like Rip Van Winkle, Abimelech falls during the destruction of Jerusalem by the Chaldeans. In the legend of Jeremiah the prophet’s soul is absent from his body on one occasion for three days, while on another occasion he dresses up a stone to impersonate himself before the populace who are trying to stone him to death, in order that he may gain time to make certain revelations to Abimelech and Baruch. When he has had his say, the stone asks the people why they persist in stoning it instead of Jeremiah, against whom they then turn their missiles.[1724]

While we're on the topic, two works should be mentioned that properly belong to the apocrypha of the Old Testament, but which first appear during the Christian era and therefore fall within our timeframe. The Ascension of Isaiah,[1722] which was first printed in the old Latin version in Venice in 1522 and dates back to the second century, is similar to the Book of Enoch, detailing Isaiah’s ascent through the seven heavens and his vision of Christ’s mission. In the Book of Baruch, originally written in Greek by a Christian in the third or fourth century,[1723] the most intriguing episode is the magical sleep that Abimelech falls into, similar to Rip Van Winkle, during the destruction of Jerusalem by the Chaldeans. In the legend of Jeremiah, the prophet’s soul leaves his body for three days at one point, and at another moment, he dresses a stone to impersonate him before the crowd that is trying to stone him to death, so he can buy time to share some revelations with Abimelech and Baruch. After he’s done speaking, the stone asks the crowd why they keep stoning it instead of Jeremiah, prompting them to redirect their attacks. [1724]

Such is no exhaustive listing but rather a few examples of the encouragement given to belief in magic by the Christian Apocrypha.

This is not an exhaustive list but rather a few examples of the support for belief in magic found in the Christian Apocrypha.


[Pg 400]

[Pg 400]

CHAPTER XVII
THE RECOGNITIONS OF CLEMENT AND SIMON MAGUS

The Pseudo-Clementines—Was Rufinus the sole medieval version?—Previous Greek versions—Date of the original version—Internal evidence—Resemblances to Apuleius and Philostratus—Science and religion—Interest in natural science—God and nature—Sin and nature—Attitude to astrology—Arguments against genethlialogy—The virtuous Seres—Theory of demons—Origin of magic—Frequent accusations of magic—Marvels of magic—How distinguish miracle from magic?—Deceit in magic—Murder of a boy—Magic is evil—Magic is an art—Other accounts of Simon Magus: Justin Martyr to Hippolytus—Peter’s account in the Didascalia et Constitutiones Apostolorum—Arnobius, Cyril, and Philastrius—Apocryphal Acts of Peter and Paul—An account ascribed to Marcellus—Hegesippus—A sermon on Simon’s fall—Simon Magus in medieval art.

The Pseudo-Clementines—Was Rufinus the only medieval version?—Earlier Greek versions—Date of the original version—Internal evidence—Similarities to Apuleius and Philostratus—Science and religion—Interest in natural science—God and nature—Sin and nature—Perspective on astrology—Arguments against astrology—The virtuous Seres—Theory of demons—Origin of magic—Frequent accusations of magic—Wonders of magic—How to differentiate between miracle and magic?—Deception in magic—Murder of a boy—Magic is evil—Magic is an art—Other accounts of Simon Magus: Justin Martyr to Hippolytus—Peter’s account in the Didascalia et Constitutiones Apostolorum—Arnobius, Cyril, and Philastrius—Apocryphal Acts of Peter and Paul—An account attributed to Marcellus—Hegesippus—A sermon on Simon’s downfall—Simon Magus in medieval art.

The Truth herself shall receive thee a wanderer and a stranger, and enroll thee a citizen of her own city.

The Truth herself will welcome you as a wanderer and a stranger, and will make you a citizen of her own city.

Recognitions I, 13.

Acknowledgments I, 13.

The Pseudo-Clementines.

The starting-point and chief source for this chapter will be the writings known as the Pseudo-Clementines and more particularly the Latin version commonly called The Recognitions. We shall then note other accounts of its villain-hero, Simon Magus, in patristic literature.[1725] The Pseudo[Pg 401]-Clementines, as the name implies, are works or different versions of one work ascribed to Clement of Rome, who is represented as writing to James, the brother of the Lord, an account of events and discussions in which he and the apostle Peter had participated not long after the crucifixion. This Pseudo-Clementine literature has a double character, combining romantic narrative concerning Peter, Simon Magus, and the family of Clement with long, argumentative, didactic, and doctrinal discussions and dialogues in which the same persons participate but Peter takes the leading and most authoritative part. Not only the authorship, origin, and date, but even the title or titles and the make-up and arrangement of the various versions and their original are doubtful or disputed matters. The versions now extant and published seem by no means to have been the only ones, but we will describe them first. In Greek we have the version known as The Homilies in twenty books, in which the didactic element preponderates. It is extant in only two manuscripts of the twelfth and fourteenth centuries at Paris and Rome,[1726] but is also preserved in part in epitomes. Different from it is the Latin version in which the narrative element plays a greater part.

The starting point and main source for this chapter will be the writings known as the Pseudo-Clementines, particularly the Latin version commonly referred to as The Recognitions. We'll also look at other accounts of its villain-hero, Simon Magus, in early Christian literature.[1725] The Pseudo[Pg 401]-Clementines, as the name suggests, are works or various versions of one work attributed to Clement of Rome. He is depicted as writing to James, the brother of the Lord, about the events and discussions that he and the apostle Peter took part in shortly after the crucifixion. This Pseudo-Clementine literature has a dual character, blending a romantic narrative involving Peter, Simon Magus, and Clement's family with lengthy argumentative, instructional, and doctrinal discussions where the same figures are involved, but Peter usually takes the lead and has the most authority. Issues regarding authorship, origin, date, and even the titles and organization of the different versions and their originals are uncertain or contested. The existing versions that we have now don’t seem to be the only ones, but we will describe them first. In Greek, we have the version known as The Homilies, consisting of twenty books, where the instructional element is more prominent. It survives in only two manuscripts from the twelfth and fourteenth centuries located in Paris and Rome,[1726] but is also partially preserved in summaries. Unlike it, the Latin version emphasizes the narrative aspect.

Was Rufinus the sole medieval version?

This Latin version, now usually referred to as The Recognitions, because the main point in its plot is the successive bringing together again of, and recognition of one another by, the members of a family long separated, is the translation made by Rufinus, who is last heard from in 410. It is usually divided into ten books. Numerous manuscripts of this version attest its popularity and influence in the middle ages, when we early find Isidore of Seville quoting[Pg 402] Clement several times as an authority on natural science.[1727] Arevalus, however, thought that Isidore used some other version of the Pseudo-Clementines than that of Rufinus,[1728] and in the medieval period another title was common, namely, The Itinerary of Clement, or The Itinerary of Peter.[1729] William of Auvergne, for instance, in the first half of the thirteenth century cites the Itinerarium Clementis or “Book of the disputations of Peter against Simon Magus.”[1730] This Itinerary of Clement also heads the list of works condemned as apocryphal by Pope Gelasius at a synod at Rome in 494,[1731] a list reproduced by Vincent of Beauvais in his Speculum naturale in the thirteenth century[1732] and in the previous century rather more accurately by Hugh of St. Victor in his Didascalicon.[1733] In all three cases the full title is given in practically the same words, “The Itinerary by the name of the Apostle Peter which is called Saint Clement’s, an apocryphal work in eight books.”[1734] Here we encounter a difficulty, since as we have said The Recognitions are in ten books. We find, however, that in another passage[1735] Vincent correctly cites the ninth book of The Recognitions as Clement’s ninth book, and that the number of books into which The Recognitions is divided varies in the manuscripts, and that they, too, more often call it The Itinerary of Clement or even apply other designations. Rabanus Maurus in the ninth century quotes an utterance of the apostle Peter from The History of Saint Clement, but the passage is found in The Recognitions.[1736] Vincent of Beauvais also[Pg 403] quotes “the blessed apostle Peter in a certain letter attached to The Itinerary of Clement.” No letter by Peter is prefaced to the printed text of The Recognitions, nor does Rufinus mention such a letter, although he does speak in his preface of a letter by Clement which he has already translated elsewhere. Prefixed to the printed Homilies, however, and in the manuscripts found also with The Recognitions, are letters of Peter and Clement respectively to James. But the passage quoted by Vincent does not occur in either, but comes from the tenth book of The Recognitions.[1737] It would seem, therefore, despite variations in the number of books and in the arrangement of material, that the Latin version by Rufinus was the only one current in the middle ages, but we cannot be sure of this until all the extant manuscripts have been more carefully examined.[1738]

This Latin version, now commonly known as The Recognitions, gets its name because the main storyline revolves around the gradual reunion and recognition of family members who have been separated for a long time. It is the translation done by Rufinus, who was last mentioned in 410. The work is typically divided into ten books. Numerous manuscripts of this version demonstrate its popularity and impact in the Middle Ages, during which Isidore of Seville frequently quoted[Pg 402] Clement as an authority on natural science. However, Arevalus believed that Isidore referenced a different version of the Pseudo-Clementines rather than Rufinus’s. In the medieval period, another title was also common: The Itinerary of Clement or The Itinerary of Peter. For example, William of Auvergne, in the first half of the thirteenth century, cited the Itinerarium Clementis, referred to as “Book of the Disputations of Peter against Simon Magus.” This Itinerary of Clement is also listed among the works labeled as apocryphal by Pope Gelasius at a synod in Rome in 494, a list later reproduced by Vincent of Beauvais in his Speculum naturale in the thirteenth century and more accurately by Hugh of St. Victor in his Didascalicon in the previous century. In all three instances, the full title appears nearly identically: “The Itinerary by the name of the Apostle Peter which is called Saint Clement’s, an apocryphal work in eight books.” Here, we face a challenge, since The Recognitions actually consists of ten books. However, we find that in another reference, Vincent correctly cites the ninth book of The Recognitions as Clement’s ninth book, and the number of books into which The Recognitions is divided varies across the manuscripts, which more frequently refer to it as The Itinerary of Clement or even use other titles. Rabanus Maurus in the ninth century quotes a statement from the apostle Peter in The History of Saint Clement, but that passage is actually found in The Recognitions. Vincent of Beauvais also[Pg 403] quotes “the blessed apostle Peter in a certain letter attached to The Itinerary of Clement.” However, there is no letter by Peter prefixed to the printed text of The Recognitions, nor does Rufinus mention such a letter, although he does refer in his preface to a letter by Clement that he has translated elsewhere. Yet, included with the printed Homilies, and in manuscripts found along with The Recognitions, are letters from Peter and Clement to James. But the passage quoted by Vincent does not appear in either of those letters; it comes from the tenth book of The Recognitions. Therefore, despite variations in the number of books and the arrangement of content, it seems that the Latin version by Rufinus was the only one prevalent in the Middle Ages, but we cannot be certain of this until all the existing manuscripts have been thoroughly examined.

Previous Greek versions.

The version by Rufinus differed from previous ones not only in being in Latin but also in various omissions which he admits he made and perhaps other changes to suit it to his Latin audience. That there was already more than one version in Greek he shows in his preface by describing another text than that upon which his translation or adaptation was based. Neither of these two Greek texts appears to have been the same as the present Homilies.[1739] Yet The Homilies were apparently in existence at that time, since a Syriac manuscript of 411 A. D. contains four books of The Homilies and three of The Recognitions,[1740] thus in itself[Pg 404] furnishing an illustration of the ease with which new versions might be compounded from old. Both The Homilies and The Recognitions as they have reached us would seem to be confusions and perversions of this sort, as their incidents are obviously not arranged in correct order. For instance, when the story of The Recognitions begins Christ is still alive and reports of His miracles are reaching Rome; the same year Barnabas pays a visit to Rome and Clement almost immediately follows him back to Syria, making the passage from Rome to Caesarea in fifteen days;[1741] but on his arrival there he meets Peter who tells him that “a week of years” have elapsed since the crucifixion and of other intervening events involving a considerable lapse of time. Or again, in the third book of The Recognitions Simon is said to have sunk his magical paraphernalia in the sea and gone to Rome, but as late as the tenth and last book we find him still in Antioch and with enough paraphernalia left to transform the countenance of Faustus.

The version by Rufinus was different from the earlier ones not just because it was in Latin, but also due to various omissions he acknowledged making, along with possibly other adjustments to fit his Latin audience. He highlights in his preface that there were already multiple Greek versions by referring to a different text than the one his translation or adaptation was based on. Neither of these two Greek texts seems to match the current Homilies. [1739] However, The Homilies were likely already available at that time, as a Syriac manuscript from 411 A.D. includes four books of The Homilies and three of The Recognitions, [1740] illustrating how easily new versions could be created from older ones. Both The Homilies and The Recognitions, as we have them, seem to be a mix-up and distortion of this kind, as their events are clearly not in the correct sequence. For example, when the story in The Recognitions starts, Christ is still alive, and news of His miracles is reaching Rome; that same year, Barnabas visits Rome and Clement almost immediately follows him back to Syria, taking the journey from Rome to Caesarea in fifteen days; [1741] but when he arrives, he meets Peter, who tells him that "a week of years" has passed since the crucifixion, along with other events that suggest a significant amount of time has gone by. In another example, in the third book of The Recognitions, Simon supposedly threw his magical tools into the sea and went to Rome, yet in the tenth and final book, we still find him in Antioch, with enough tools left to change Faustus's appearance.

Date of the original version.

Yet this late and misarranged version on which Rufinus bases his text must have been already in existence for some time, since he confesses that he has been a long while about his translation. The virgin Sylvia who “once enjoined it upon” him to “render Clement into our language” is now spoken of as “of venerable memory,” and it is to Bishop Gaudentius that Rufinus “after many delays” in his old age “at length” presents the work. We might thus infer that the original and presumably more self-consistent Pseudo-Clementine narrative, which Rufinus evidently does not use, must date back to a much earlier period. We hear from other sources of The Circuits or Periodoi of Peter by Clement, but this may have been the version translated by Ru[Pg 405]finus.[1742] Conservative Christian scholars regard as the oldest unmistakable allusion to the Pseudo-Clementines that by Eusebius early in the fourth century, who, without giving any specific titles, speaks of certain “verbose and lengthy writings, containing dialogues of Peter forsooth and Apion,” which are ascribed to Clement but are really of recent origin. As for the date of the original work from which Homilies and Recognitions are derived,[1743] from 200 to 280 A. D. is suggested by Harnack and his school, who take middle ground between the extreme contentions of Hilgenfeld and Chapman. But the original Pseudo-Clement is supposed to have utilized The Teachings of Peter and The Acts of Peter, which Waitz would date between 135 and 210 A. D.[1744]

Yet this late and poorly organized version that Rufinus relies on must have been around for quite a while, as he admits that he took a long time with his translation. The virgin Sylvia, who “once urged him to” “translate Clement into our language,” is now referred to as “of revered memory,” and it's to Bishop Gaudentius that Rufinus “after many delays” in his old age “finally” presents the work. We might conclude that the original, likely more consistent Pseudo-Clementine narrative, which Rufinus clearly does not use, must date back to an earlier time. We hear from other sources about The Circuits or Periodoi of Peter by Clement, but this may have been the version translated by Rufinus. Conservative Christian scholars consider Eusebius's reference in the early fourth century to be the oldest clear mention of the Pseudo-Clementines. He, without giving any specific titles, talks about certain “verbose and lengthy writings, containing dialogues of Peter indeed and Apion,” which are attributed to Clement but are actually more recent. Regarding the date of the original work from which Homilies and Recognitions are derived, Harnack and his group suggest a timeframe from 200 to 280 A.D., taking a middle position between the extreme views of Hilgenfeld and Chapman. However, the original Pseudo-Clement is believed to have used The Teachings of Peter and The Acts of Peter, which Waitz would date between 135 and 210 A.D.

Internal evidence.

The work itself, even in the perverted form preserved by Rufinus, makes pretensions to the highest Christian antiquity. Not only is it addressed to James and put into the mouth of Clement, but Paul is never mentioned, and no book of the New Testament is cited by name, while sayings of Jesus are cited which are not found in the Bible. Christ is often alluded to in a veiled and mystic fashion as “the true prophet,” who had appeared aforetime to Abraham and Moses, and interesting and vivid incidental glimpses are given of what purports to be the life of an early Christian community and perhaps is that of the Ebionites, Essenes, or some Gnostic sect. Emphasis is laid upon the purifying power of baptism, upon Peter’s practice of bathing early every morning, preferably in the sea or running water, upon secret prayers and meetings, a separate table for the initiated, esoteric discussions of religion at cock-crow and in the night, and upon power over demons. All this may be mere clever invention, but there certainly is an atmosphere of verisimilitude about it; and it is rather odd that a later[Pg 406] writer should be “very careful to avoid anachronisms,” in whose account as it now stands are such glaring chronological confusions as those already noted concerning Clement’s voyage to Caesarea and Simon’s departure for Rome. But, as in the case of the New Testament Apocrypha, the exact date of composition makes little difference for our purpose, for which it is enough that the Pseudo-Clementines played an important part in the first thirteen centuries of Christian thought viewed as a whole. Eusebius and Epiphanius may find them unpalatable in certain respects and reject them as heretical, but Basil and Gregory utilize their arguments against astrology. Gelasius may classify them as apocryphal, but Vincent of Beauvais justifies a discriminating use of the apocryphal books in general and cites this one in particular more than once as an authority, and the incidents of its story were embodied, as we shall see, in medieval art.

The work itself, even in the twisted version kept by Rufinus, claims to be from the earliest days of Christianity. It's addressed to James and narrated by Clement, but Paul is never mentioned, and no book of the New Testament is referenced by name, while quotes from Jesus are included that aren’t found in the Bible. Christ is often referred to in a subtle and mystical way as “the true prophet,” who had appeared before to Abraham and Moses, and there are engaging and vivid glimpses of what seems to be the life of an early Christian community, possibly that of the Ebionites, Essenes, or some Gnostic group. There’s a strong focus on the cleansing power of baptism, on Peter’s habit of bathing every morning, preferably in the sea or running water, on secret prayers and meetings, a separate table for the initiated, private discussions about religion at dawn and at night, and on power over demons. This could all be clever fabrication, but it definitely carries an air of plausibility; and it’s quite strange that a later writer would be “very careful to avoid anachronisms,” given that this account, as it stands now, has obvious chronological errors regarding Clement’s trip to Caesarea and Simon’s journey to Rome. However, as with the New Testament Apocrypha, the exact date of writing doesn’t really matter for our purposes; what’s important is that the Pseudo-Clementines played a significant role in the first thirteen centuries of Christian thought as a whole. Eusebius and Epiphanius may find them questionable in some respects and dismiss them as heretical, but Basil and Gregory use their arguments against astrology. Gelasius may label them apocryphal, but Vincent of Beauvais defends a selective use of the apocryphal books in general and cites this one in particular multiple times as an authority, and the events of its story were captured, as we will see, in medieval art.

Resemblances to Apuleius and Philostratus.

The same resemblance to the works of Apuleius and Philostratus that we noted in the case of an apocryphal gospel is observable in the Pseudo-Clementines. We see in The Recognitions the same mixed interest in natural science and in magic combined with religion and romantic incident that characterized the variegated and motley page of the author of the Metamorphoses and the biographer of Apollonius of Tyana. It is probably only a coincidence that two of the works of Apuleius are dedicated to a Faustinus whom he calls “my son,” while Clement’s father is named Faustus or Faustinianus, and the legend of Faust is believed to originate with him and the episodes in which he is concerned.[1745] Less accidental may be the connection between Peter’s religious sea-bathing and that purification in the sea by which the hero of the Metamorphoses began the process by which he succeeded in regaining his lost human form. More considerable are the detailed parallels to the work of Philostratus.[1746] Peter corresponds roughly to Apollonius and Clem[Pg 407]ent to Damis, while the wizards and magi are ably personified by the famous Simon Magus. If Apollonius abstained from all meat and wine and wore linen garments, Peter lives upon “bread alone, with olives, and seldom even with pot-herbs; and my dress,” he says, “is what you see, a tunic with a pallium: and having these, I require nothing more.”[1747] Like Philostratus the Pseudo-Clement speaks of bones of enormous size which are still to be seen as proof of the existence of giants in former ages;[1748] and the accounts of the Brahmans and allusions to the Scythians in the Life of Apollonius of Tyana are paralleled in The Recognitions by a series of brief chapters on these and other strange races.[1749] Peter is, of course, a Jew, not a Hellene like Apollonius, but in his train are men who are thoroughly trained in Greek philosophy and capable of discussing its problems at length. They also are not without appreciation of pagan art and turn aside, with Peter’s consent, to visit a temple upon an island and “to gaze earnestly” upon “the wonderful columns” and “very magnificent works of Phidias.”[1750] Just as Apollonius knew all languages without having ever studied them, so Peter is so filled with the Spirit of God that he is “full of all knowledge” and “not ignorant even of Greek learning”; but to descend from his usual divine themes to discuss it is considered to be rather beneath him. Clement, however, felt the need of coaching Peter up a little in Greek mythology.[1751] This mingled attitude of contempt for “the babblings of the Greeks” when compared to divine revelation, and of respect for Greek philosophy when compared with anything else is, it is hardly necessary to say, a very common one with Christian writers throughout the Roman Empire.

The similarity to the works of Apuleius and Philostratus that we noticed in the case of an apocryphal gospel can also be seen in the Pseudo-Clementines. In The Recognitions, we observe the same mixed interest in natural science and magic combined with religion and romantic tales that characterized the diverse and colorful work of the author of the Metamorphoses and the biographer of Apollonius of Tyana. It's probably just a coincidence that two of Apuleius's works are dedicated to a Faustinus whom he calls “my son,” while Clement’s father is named Faustus or Faustinianus, and the legend of Faust is believed to originate with him and the episodes he's involved in.[1745] Less coincidental may be the link between Peter’s religious bathing in the sea and the purification in the sea by which the hero of the Metamorphoses began the process of regaining his lost human form. More significant are the detailed similarities to Philostratus's work.[1746] Peter roughly corresponds to Apollonius, and Clement to Damis, while the wizards and magi are skillfully represented by the famous Simon Magus. If Apollonius refrained from all meat and wine and wore linen garments, Peter eats “bread alone, with olives, and seldom even with pot-herbs; and my dress,” he says, “is what you see, a tunic with a pallium: and having these, I need nothing more.”[1747] Like Philostratus, the Pseudo-Clement mentions bones of enormous size that are still visible as evidence of giants in ancient times;[1748] and the accounts of the Brahmans and references to the Scythians in the Life of Apollonius of Tyana are mirrored in The Recognitions by a series of brief chapters on these and other unusual peoples.[1749] Peter is, of course, a Jew, not a Hellene like Apollonius, but he is accompanied by men who are well-versed in Greek philosophy and capable of discussing its issues in depth. They also appreciate pagan art and, with Peter’s approval, stop to visit a temple on an island to “gaze earnestly” at “the wonderful columns” and “very magnificent works of Phidias.”[1750] Just as Apollonius knew all languages without ever studying them, Peter is so filled with the Spirit of God that he is “full of all knowledge” and “not ignorant even of Greek learning”; but to descend from his usual divine topics to discuss it is seen as somewhat beneath him. However, Clement felt the need to give Peter a bit of a refresher in Greek mythology.[1751] This mixed attitude of disdain for “the babblings of the Greeks” when compared to divine revelation and respect for Greek philosophy when compared to anything else is, needless to say, very common among Christian writers throughout the Roman Empire.

Science and religion.

The same attitude prevails toward natural science. At the very beginning of the Clementines the curiosity of the[Pg 408] ancient world in regard to things of nature is shown by the question which someone propounded to Barnabas when he began to preach, at Rome according to The Recognitions, at Alexandria according to The Homilies, of the Son of God. The heckler wanted to know why so small a creature as a fly has not only six feet but wings in addition, while the elephant, despite its enormous bulk, has only four feet and no wings at all. Barnabas did not answer the question, although he asserted that he could if he wished to, making the excuse that it was not fitting to speak of mere creatures to those who were still ignorant of their Creator.[1752]

The same attitude exists toward natural science. At the very beginning of the Clementines, the curiosity of the[Pg 408] ancient world regarding nature is illustrated by a question someone asked Barnabas when he started preaching, in Rome according to The Recognitions, and in Alexandria according to The Homilies, about the Son of God. The heckler wanted to know why such a small creature as a fly has not only six legs but wings as well, while the elephant, despite its massive size, has only four legs and no wings at all. Barnabas didn’t answer the question, although he claimed he could if he wanted to, justifying that it wasn’t appropriate to discuss mere creatures with those who were still unaware of their Creator.[1752]

Interest in natural science.

This unwillingness to discuss natural questions by no means continues characteristic of the Clementines, however. Not only does Peter explain to Clement the creation of the world and propound the extraordinary[1753] doctrine that after completing the process of creation God “set an angel as chief over the angels, a spirit over the spirits, a star over the stars, a demon over the demons, a bird over the birds, a beast over the beasts, a serpent over the serpents, a fish over the fishes,” and “over men a man who is Christ Jesus.”[1754] Not only does he later in public defend baptism with water on the ground that “all things are produced from waters” and that waters were first created.[1755] We also find Niceta accepting the Greek hypothesis of four elements, of the sphericity of the universe, and of the motions of the heavenly bodies “assigned to them by fixed laws and periods,” citing Plato’s Timaeus, mentioning Aristotle’s introduction of a fifth element,[1756] disputing the atomic theory of Epicurus,[1757] and alluding to “mechanical science.”[1758] He further discusses the generation of plants, animals, and human beings as evidences of divine design and providence,[1759] in which connection he collects a number of examples of marvelous gen[Pg 409] eration of animals such as moles from earth and vipers from ashes, and affirms that “the crow conceives through the mouth and the weasel generates through the ear.”[1760] Simon Magus declared himself immortal on the theory, which we shall find cropping out again in the thirteenth century in Roger Bacon and Peter of Abano, that his flesh was “so compacted by the power of his divinity that it can endure to eternity.”[1761] On the other hand, Niceta describes the action of the intestines in a fairly intelligent manner,[1762] and tells how the blood flows like water from a fountain, “and first borne along in one channel, and then spreading through innumerable veins as through canals, irrigates the entire territory of the human body with vital streams.”[1763] A little later on Aquila gives a natural explanation of rainbows.[1764]

This reluctance to talk about natural questions is not typical of the Clementines, though. Peter explains to Clement how the world was created and offers the amazing belief that after finishing creation, God “appointed an angel as leader over the angels, a spirit over the spirits, a star over the stars, a demon over the demons, a bird over the birds, a beast over the beasts, a serpent over the serpents, a fish over the fish,” and “over humans a man who is Christ Jesus.” He later publicly defends baptism with water, arguing that “everything comes from water” and that water was created first. We also see Niceta accepting the Greek idea of four elements, the roundness of the universe, and the movements of heavenly bodies “assigned to them by fixed laws and periods,” referencing Plato’s Timaeus, noting Aristotle’s addition of a fifth element, disputing the atomic theory of Epicurus, and mentioning “mechanical science.” He talks about how plants, animals, and humans are generated as evidence of divine design and care, providing various examples of remarkable animal generation like moles from earth and vipers from ashes, and claims that “the crow conceives through the mouth and the weasel gives birth through the ear.” Simon Magus claimed he was immortal on the theory, which we will see again in the thirteenth century with Roger Bacon and Peter of Abano, that his flesh was “so formed by the power of his divinity that it can last forever.” Meanwhile, Niceta describes the functions of the intestines quite intelligently and explains how blood flows like water from a fountain, “first moving in one channel, then spreading through countless veins like canals, nourishing the entire human body with vital streams.” Soon after, Aquila offers a natural explanation of rainbows.

God and nature.

There is noticeable, it is true, a tendency, common in patristic literature and found even among those fathers who hold the dualism of the Manichees in the deepest detestation, to make a distinction between God and nature and to attribute any flaws in the universe to the latter.[1765] Niceta cannot agree with “those who speak of nature instead of God and declare that all things were made by nature”; he holds that God created the universe. But Aquila, who supports his brother in the discussion, seems to think that God’s responsibility for the universe ceased, at least in part, after it was once created. At any rate he admits that “in this world some things are done in an orderly and some in a disorderly fashion. Those things therefore,” he continues, “that are done rationally, believe that they are done by Providence; but those that are done irrationally and inordinately, believe that they befall naturally and happen accidentally.”[1766]

It's true that there's a noticeable tendency, common in early Christian literature and even among those church fathers who deeply detest the dualism of the Manichees, to distinguish between God and nature, attributing any flaws in the universe to the latter. Niceta disagrees with "those who refer to nature instead of God and claim that everything was made by nature"; he believes that God created the universe. However, Aquila, who supports his brother in the discussion, seems to think that God's responsibility for the universe ended, at least somewhat, after it was created. In any case, he acknowledges that "in this world, some things occur in an orderly fashion while others do not. Therefore," he continues, "those things that happen rationally are believed to be by Providence; but those that occur irrationally and chaotically are thought to happen naturally and by chance."

Sin and nature.

But even nature sometimes rises up against the sins of mankind according to Peter and his associates. Aquila be[Pg 410]lieves that the sins of men are the cause of pestilences;[1767] that “when chastisement is inflicted upon men according to the will of God, he” (i. e. the Sun, already called “that good servant” and whom the early Christians found it difficult to cease to personify) “glows more fiercely and burns up the world with more vehement fires”;[1768] and that “those who have become acquainted with prophetic discourse know when and for what reason blight, hail, pestilence, and such like have occurred in every generation, and for what sins these have been sent as a punishment.”[1769] Peter gives the impression that nature sometimes acts rather independently of God in thus punishing the wicked. He says: “But this also I would have you know, that upon such souls God does not take vengeance directly, but His whole creation rises up and inflicts punishments upon the impious. And although in the present world the goodness of God bestows the light of the world and the services of the earth alike upon the pious and the impious, yet not without grief does the Sun afford his light and the other elements perform their services to the impious. And, in short, sometimes even in opposition to the goodness of the Creator, the elements are worn out by the crimes of the wicked; and hence it is that either the fruit of the earth is blighted, or the composition of the air is vitiated, or the heat of the sun is increased beyond measure, or there is an excess of rain or cold.”[1770] This is a close approach to the notion of The Book of Enoch that human sin upsets the world of nature, and an even closer approach to the theory of the Brahmans in The Life of Apollonius of Tyana that prolonged drought is a punishment visited by the world-soul upon human sinfulness.

But even nature sometimes rebels against the sins of humanity, according to Peter and his associates. Aquila believes that human sins cause diseases; he says that “when punishment is dealt out to people according to God's will, he” (referring to the Sun, already called “that good servant” and whom early Christians found hard to stop personifying) “shines more brightly and scorches the earth with fiercer flames”; and that “those who understand prophetic messages know when and why blight, hail, plagues, and similar disasters have happened throughout history, and for what sins they have been sent as punishment.” Peter implies that nature sometimes acts somewhat independently of God in punishing the wicked. He says: “But I want you to understand that God does not take vengeance directly on such souls; instead, all of creation rises up and inflicts punishments on the impious. Although in this world, God's goodness provides the light of the sun and the services of the earth to both the righteous and the wicked, it is not without sadness that the Sun gives its light and the other elements serve the wicked. In short, sometimes even against the goodness of the Creator, the elements are worn down by the crimes of the wicked; and that’s why the earth's fruits may wither, or the air may become polluted, or the sun’s heat may increase excessively, or there may be too much rain or cold.” This closely mirrors the idea in The Book of Enoch that human sin disturbs the natural world, and aligns even more with the theory of the Brahmans in The Life of Apollonius of Tyana that prolonged drought is a punishment from the world-soul for human wrongdoing.

Attitude to astrology.

Such vestiges of the world-soul doctrine, such a tendency to ascribe emotion and will to the elements and planets, to personify them, and to think of God as ruling the world indirectly through them, prepare us to find an attitude rather favorable to astrological theory. Indeed, in the first book[Pg 411] of The Recognitions[1771] we are told in so many words that the Creator adorned the visible heaven with stars, sun, and moon in order that “they might be for an indication of things past, present, and future,” and that these celestial signs, while seen by all, are “understood only by the learned and intelligent.” Astrology is respectfully described as “the science of mathesis,”[1772] and, as was common in the Roman Empire, astrologers are called mathematici.[1773] A defender even of the most extreme pretensions of the art is not abused as a charlatan but is courteously greeted as “so learned a man,”[1774] and all admire his eloquence, grave manners, and calm speech, and accord him a respectful hearing.[1775] Astrology, far from being regarded as necessarily contrary to religion, is thought to furnish arguments for the existence of God, and it is said that Abraham, “being an astrologer, was able from the rational system of the stars to recognize the Creator, while all other men were in error, and understood that all things are regulated by His Providence.”[1776] The number seven is somewhat emphasized[1777] and the twelve apostles are called the twelve months of Christ who is the acceptable year of the Lord.[1778] Somewhat similarly the Gnostic followers of the heretic Valentinus made much of the Duodecad, a group of twelve aeons, and believed, according to Irenaeus, “that Christ suffered in the twelfth month. For their opinion is that He continued to preach for one year only after His baptism.”[1779] Peter, too, has a group of twelve disciples.[1780] Niceta speaks of “man who is a microcosm in the great world.”[1781] It is admitted that the stars exert evil as well as good influence,[1782] and that the astrologer “can indicate the evil desire which malign[Pg 412] virtue produces.”[1783] But it is contended that, “possessing freedom of the will, we sometimes resist our desires and sometimes yield to them,” and that no astrologer can predict beforehand which course we will take.

Such remnants of the world-soul doctrine, this inclination to attribute emotions and will to the elements and planets, to personify them, and to view God as indirectly governing the world through them, prepare us to find a fairly favorable attitude toward astrological theory. In fact, in the first book[Pg 411] of The Recognitions[1771], it is clearly stated that the Creator adorned the visible sky with stars, sun, and moon so that “they might serve as signs for things past, present, and future,” and that these celestial signs, while visible to all, are “understood only by the learned and intelligent.” Astrology is respectfully described as “the science of mathesis,”[1772] and, as was typical in the Roman Empire, astrologers are referred to as mathematici.[1773] A supporter of even the most extreme claims of the practice is not dismissed as a fraud but is politely acknowledged as “such a learned person,”[1774] and everyone admires his eloquence, dignified demeanor, and calm speech, giving him a respectful audience.[1775] Astrology, far from being seen as inherently opposed to religion, is believed to provide evidence for the existence of God, with the assertion that Abraham, “being an astrologer, was able to recognize the Creator from the rational system of the stars, while all other men were mistaken, and understood that everything is governed by His Providence.”[1776] The number seven is somewhat emphasized[1777] and the twelve apostles are referred to as the twelve months of Christ, who is the acceptable year of the Lord.[1778] Similarly, the Gnostic followers of the heretic Valentinus placed great importance on the Duodecad, a group of twelve aeons, believing, according to Irenaeus, “that Christ suffered in the twelfth month. Their belief is that He preached for only one year after His baptism.”[1779] Peter, too, has a group of twelve disciples.[1780] Niceta talks about “man who is a microcosm of the greater world.”[1781] It is acknowledged that the stars can exert both good and bad influence,[1782] and that the astrologer “can identify the harmful desire which malign[Pg 412] virtue generates.”[1783] However, it is argued that “with free will, we sometimes resist our desires and sometimes give in to them,” and that no astrologer can predict in advance which path we will take.

Arguments against genethlialogy.

In fine, astrology is criticized adversely only when it goes to the length of contending that “there is neither any God, nor any worship, neither is there any Providence in the world, but all things are done by fortuitous chance and genesis”; that “whatever your genesis contains, that shall befall you”;[1784] and that the constellations force men to commit murder, adultery, and other crimes.[1785] On this point Niceta and Aquila, and finally Clement himself, have long discussions with an aged adept in genethlialogy which fill a large portion of the last three books of The Recognitions, and include a dozen chapters which are little more than an extract from The Laws of Countries of Bardesanes. Divine Providence and human free will are defended, and genethlialogy is represented as an error which has received confirmation through the operations of demons.[1786] It is asserted that men can be kept from committing crimes by fear of punishment and by law, even if they are naturally so inclined, and races like the Seres (Chinese) and Brahmans are adduced as examples of entire races of men who never commit the crimes into which men are supposed to be forced by the constellations. The argument is also advanced, “Since God is righteous and since He Himself made human nature, how could it be that He should place genesis in opposition to us, which should compel us to sin, and then that He should punish us when we do sin?”[1787] It is further charged that the constellations are so complicated,[Pg 413] that for any given moment one astrologer may infer a favorable and another a disastrous influence,[1788] and that most successful explanations of the effects of the stars are made after the event, like dreams of which men can make nothing at the time, but “when any event occurs, then they adapt what they saw in the dream to what has occurred.”[1789] Finally the aged defender of genesis, who believed that his own fate and that of his wife had been accurately prescribed by their horoscopes, turns out to be Faustinianus (called Faustus in The Homilies), the long-lost father of Clement, Niceta, and Aquila; is also restored to his wife; and learns that his previous interpretation of events from the stars was quite erroneous.[1790]

In short, astrology gets criticized mainly when it insists that “there is no God, no worship, and no Providence in the world, but everything happens by chance and genesis”; that “whatever your genesis dictates, that will happen to you”;[1784] and that the stars force people to commit murder, adultery, and other crimes.[1785] On this issue, Niceta, Aquila, and ultimately Clement himself engage in lengthy discussions with an elderly expert in genethlialogy, which take up a significant part of the last three books of The Recognitions. These discussions include several chapters that are mostly excerpts from The Laws of Countries by Bardesanes. They defend divine Providence and human free will while portraying genethlialogy as a mistake supported by the actions of demons.[1786] It is argued that fear of punishment and laws can prevent people from committing crimes, even if they are naturally inclined, with examples like the Seres (Chinese) and Brahmans cited as entire races that never engage in the crimes supposedly forced upon them by the stars. Another point made is, “Since God is just and made human nature, how could He create genesis in opposition to us, compelling us to sin, and then punish us when we do sin?”[1787] It is also claimed that the stars are so complex,[Pg 413] that at any given moment one astrologer might interpret a favorable influence while another sees it as disastrous,[1788] and that many successful explanations of the stars’ effects are formed after the fact, like how people can’t make sense of dreams at the time, but “when something happens, they then fit what they dreamed into what occurred.”[1789] In the end, the elderly advocate of genesis, who believed that his own fate and his wife’s had been accurately determined by their horoscopes, turns out to be Faustinianus (known as Faustus in The Homilies), the long-lost father of Clement, Niceta, and Aquila; he is also reunited with his wife and realizes that his earlier interpretations of events based on the stars were completely wrong.[1790]

The virtuous Seres.

The ideal picture of the Seres or Chinese, “who dwell at the beginning of the world,” which The Recognitions apparently borrows from Bardesanes, is perhaps worth repeating here as an odd admission that a non-Christian people can attain a state of moral perfection and sinlessness, as well as an interesting bit of ancient ethnology. “In all that country which is very large there is neither temple nor image nor harlot nor adulteress, nor is any thief brought to trial. But neither is any man ever slain there.... For this reason they are not chastened with those plagues of which we have spoken; they live to extreme old age, and die without sickness.”[1791] Perhaps these virtuous Seres are the blameless Hyperboreans in another guise.

The ideal depiction of the Seres or Chinese, “who live at the beginning of the world,” which The Recognitions seemingly takes from Bardesanes, is worth mentioning here as a curious acknowledgment that a non-Christian culture can reach a level of moral perfection and sinlessness, as well as an intriguing piece of ancient ethnology. “In all that vast land, there is neither temple nor image, nor prostitute nor adulteress, and no thief is ever brought to trial. But no one is ever killed there.... For this reason, they are not punished with the plagues we've discussed; they live to a very old age and die without illness.”[1791] Perhaps these virtuous Seres are simply the innocent Hyperboreans in another form.

Theory of demons.

Demons and angels abound in The Recognitions. One may be rebuked and scourged at night by an angel of God.[1792] Peter says that every nation has an angel, since God has divided the earth into seventy-two sections and appointed an angel as governor and prince of each.[1793] Once, before beginning to preach, Peter expelled demons from a number of persons in the audience.[1794] In another passage is described the cure of a girl of twenty-seven who for twenty years[Pg 414] had been vexed by an unclean spirit and had been shut up in a closet in chains because of her violence and superhuman strength. The mere presence of Peter put this demon to rout and the chains fell off the girl of their own accord.[1795] Besides these personal encounters with demons, the theory of demoniacal possession is discussed more than once, and anything of which the author does not approve, such as the art of horoscopes, heathen oracles, the excesses of pagan rites and festivals, and the animal gods of the Egyptians, is attributed to the influence of demons.[1796] One becomes susceptible to demoniacal possession who eats meat sacrificed to idols or who merely eats and drinks immoderately.[1797] Demons are apt to get into the very bowels of those who frequent drunken banquets.[1798] Incontinence, too, is accompanied by demons whose “noxious breath” produces “an intemperate and vicious progeny.... And therefore parents are responsible for their children’s defects of this sort, because they have not observed the law of intercourse.”[1799] As much care should be taken in human generation as in the sowing of crops. But while demons abound, God has given every Christian power over them, since they may be driven out by uttering “the threefold name of blessedness.”[1800] Moreover, “what is spoken by the true God, whether by prophets or varied visions, is always true; but what is foretold by demons is not always true.”[1801]

Demons and angels are everywhere in The Recognitions. You can be confronted and punished at night by an angel of God.[1792] Peter mentions that every nation has an angel since God has divided the earth into seventy-two regions and assigned an angel as the ruler and leader of each.[1793] Once, before he started preaching, Peter cast out demons from several people in the crowd.[1794] In another part, there's a story about a twenty-seven-year-old woman who had been tormented by an unclean spirit for twenty years and had been locked away in a closet in chains due to her violent behavior and incredible strength. Just the presence of Peter made this demon flee, and the chains fell off her by themselves.[1795] Alongside these personal encounters with demons, the concept of demonic possession is discussed several times, and anything the author disapproves of—like the practice of astrology, pagan oracles, the excesses of pagan festivals, and the animal gods of the Egyptians—is blamed on demons.[1796] A person becomes vulnerable to demonic possession if they eat meat offered to idols or indulge excessively in food and drink.[1797] Demons are quick to infest those who attend drunken parties.[1798] Sexual immorality is also linked to demons whose “harmful influence” creates “an uncontrollable and immoral offspring.... Therefore, parents are accountable for their children’s issues of this nature, because they have not followed the guidelines of relationships.”[1799] Care should be taken in human reproduction just like in planting crops. Yet, while demons are plentiful, God has granted every Christian power over them, as they can be cast out by invoking “the threefold name of blessedness.”[1800] Additionally, “what is said by the true God, whether through prophets or various visions, is always true; but what is predicted by demons isn't always accurate.”[1801]

Origin of magic.

With demons is associated the origin of the magic art. “Certain angels ... taught men that demons could be made to obey man by certain arts, that is, by magical invocations.”[1802] The first magicians were Ham and his son Mesraim, from whom the Egyptians, Babylonians, and Assyrians are descended, and who tried to draw sparks from the stars[1803] but set himself on fire “and was consumed by the demon[Pg 415] whom he had accosted with too great importunity.”[1804] But on this account he was called Zoroaster or “living star” after his death. Moreover, the magic art did not perish but was transmitted to Nimrod “as by a flash.”[1805] With this may be compared the slightly different account of the origin of magic given by Epiphanius in the Panarion, written about 374-375 A. D. Magic is older than heresy and was already in existence before the time of Ham or Mesraim in the antediluvian days of Jared, when it coexisted with “pharmacy,” a term here used to cover sorcery and poisoning, licentiousness, adultery, and injustice. After the flood Epiphanius mentions Nimrod (Νεβρώδ) as the first tyrant and the inventor of the evil disciplines of astrology and magic. He states that the Greeks incorrectly confuse him with Zoroaster whom they regard as the founder of magic and astrology. According to Epiphanius, “pharmacy” and magic passed from Egypt to Greece in the time of Cecrops.[1806]

With demons comes the origin of magical arts. “Certain angels ... taught people that demons could be made to obey humans through specific practices, that is, through magical invocations.”[1802] The first magicians were Ham and his son Mesraim, from whom the Egyptians, Babylonians, and Assyrians descended, and who attempted to draw sparks from the stars[1803] but ended up setting himself on fire “and was consumed by the demon[Pg 415] whom he had approached with too much insistence.”[1804] Because of this, he was called Zoroaster or “living star” after his death. Furthermore, the magical arts did not disappear but were passed down to Nimrod “as by a flash.”[1805] This can be compared to the slightly different account of the origin of magic provided by Epiphanius in the Panarion, written around 374-375 A.D. Magic predates heresy and was already present before the time of Ham or Mesraim in the antediluvian days of Jared, when it coexisted with “pharmacy,” a term used here to encompass sorcery and poisoning, along with licentiousness, adultery, and injustice. After the flood, Epiphanius mentions Nimrod (Νεβρώδ) as the first tyrant and the originator of the malicious practices of astrology and magic. He states that the Greeks mistakenly confuse him with Zoroaster, whom they consider the founder of magic and astrology. According to Epiphanius, “pharmacy” and magic migrated from Egypt to Greece during the time of Cecrops.[1806]

Frequent accusations of magic.

In The Recognitions everyone, Christian, heretic, pagan, and philosopher, condemns or professes to condemn magic, and reference is made to the laws of the Roman emperors against it.[1807] But Christians, pagans, and heretics, while claiming divine power and protection for themselves, freely accuse one another of the practice of magic. An unnamed person, by whom Paul is perhaps meant, stirs up the people of Jerusalem to persecute the apostolic community there as “most miserable men, who are deceived by Simon, a magician.”[1808] The guards at the sepulcher, unable to prevent the resurrection, said that Jesus was a magician, a charge which is repeated by one of the scribes and by Simon Magus. Simon also calls Peter a magician on more than one occasion.[1809] Peter, of course, makes similar charges against Simon; he had been especially sent by James to Caesarea in order to refute this magician who was giving himself out to be the Stans or Christ.[1810] The gods of Greek[Pg 416] mythology, too, are accused of having resorted to magic transformations and sorcery.[1811] Philosophy, however, escapes the accusation of magic in The Recognitions,[1812] and it was a philosopher who deterred Clement, before the latter had become a Christian, from his plan of investigating the problem of the immortality of the soul by hiring an Egyptian magician to evoke a soul from the infernal regions by the art of necromancy.[1813] The philosopher condemned such an attempt as unlawful, impious, and “hateful to the Divinity.”[1814]

In The Recognitions, everyone—Christian, heretic, pagan, and philosopher—condemns or claims to condemn magic, and references are made to the laws of the Roman emperors against it.[1807] But Christians, pagans, and heretics, while asserting divine power and protection for themselves, openly accuse each other of practicing magic. An unnamed person, possibly referring to Paul, incites the people of Jerusalem to persecute the apostolic community there as “most miserable men, who are deceived by Simon, a magician.”[1808] The guards at the tomb, unable to stop the resurrection, said that Jesus was a magician, a claim echoed by one of the scribes and by Simon Magus. Simon also calls Peter a magician on multiple occasions.[1809] Peter, of course, levels similar accusations against Simon; he had been specifically sent by James to Caesarea to confront this magician who was falsely claiming to be the Stans or Christ.[1810] The gods of Greek mythology are also accused of employing magical transformations and sorcery.[1811] Philosophy, however, avoids the accusation of magic in The Recognitions,[1812] and it was a philosopher who dissuaded Clement, before he became a Christian, from his plan to explore the immortality of the soul by hiring an Egyptian magician to summon a soul from the underworld through necromancy.[1813] The philosopher condemned such an attempt as unlawful, impious, and “hateful to the Divinity.”[1814]

Marvels of magic.

But while magic is condemned, its great powers are admitted. Simon Magus makes great boasts of the marvels which he can perform. These include becoming invisible, boring through rocks and mountains as if they were clay, passing through fire without being burned, flying through the air, loosing bonds and barriers, transformation into animal shapes, animation of statues, production of new plants or trees in a moment, and growing beards upon little boys.[1815] He also asserted that he had formed a boy by turning air into water and the water into blood, and then solidifying this into flesh, a feat which he regarded as superior to the creation of Adam from earth. Later Simon unmade him and restored him to the air, “but not until I had placed his image and picture in my bedchamber as a proof and memorial of my work.”[1816] Not only does Simon himself make such boasts; Niceta and Aquila, who had been his disciples before their conversion by Zaccheus, also bear witness to[Pg 417] his amazing feats. “Who would not be astonished at the wonderful things which he does? Who would not think that he was a god come down from heaven for the salvation of men?”[1817] He can fly through the air, or so mingle himself with fire as to become one body with it, he can make statues walk and dogs of brass bark. “Yea, he has also been seen to make bread of stones.”[1818] When Dositheus tried to beat Simon, the rod passed through his body as if it had been smoke.[1819] The woman called Luna who goes about with Simon was seen by a crowd to look out of all the windows of a tower at the same time,[1820] an illusion possibly produced by mirrors. When Simon fears arrest, he transforms the face of Faustinianus into the likeness of his own, in order that Faustinianus may be arrested in his place.[1821]

But while magic is condemned, its great powers are acknowledged. Simon Magus boasts about the incredible feats he can perform. These include becoming invisible, boring through rocks and mountains as if they were clay, passing through fire without getting burned, flying through the air, breaking free from bonds and barriers, transforming into animal shapes, animating statues, instantly producing new plants or trees, and even growing beards on little boys.[1815] He also claimed that he created a boy by turning air into water, then the water into blood, and finally solidifying that into flesh, a feat he believed was even greater than creating Adam from earth. Later, Simon unmade the boy and returned him to the air, “but not until I had placed his image and picture in my bedroom as proof and a memorial of my work.”[1816] Not only does Simon himself make such claims; Niceta and Aquila, who were his disciples before their conversion by Zaccheus, also testify to[Pg 417] his astonishing feats. “Who wouldn’t be amazed by the wonderful things he does? Who wouldn't think he was a god come down from heaven for the salvation of humanity?”[1817] He can fly through the air, or merge with fire to become one with it; he can make statues walk and brass dogs bark. “Yes, he has also been seen to turn stones into bread.”[1818] When Dositheus tried to hit Simon, the rod passed through his body as if it were smoke.[1819] The woman named Luna, who accompanies Simon, was seen by a crowd looking out of all the windows of a tower at the same time,[1820] an illusion possibly created by mirrors. When Simon fears being arrested, he changes Faustinianus's face to look like his own, so that Faustinianus can be arrested in his place.[1821]

How distinguish miracle from magic?

So great, indeed, are the marvels wrought by Simon and by magicians generally that Niceta asks Peter how they may be distinguished from divine signs and Christian miracles, and in what respect anyone sins who infers from the similarity of these signs and wonders either that Simon Magus is divine or that Christ was a magician. Speaking first of Pharaoh’s magicians, Niceta asks, “For if I had been there, should I not have thought, from the fact that the magicians did like things (to those which Moses did), either that Moses was a magician, or that the feats displayed by the magicians were divinely wrought?... But if he sins who believes those who work signs, how shall it appear that he also does not sin who has believed on our Lord for His signs and occult virtues?” Peter’s reply is that Simon’s magic does not benefit anyone, while the Christian miracles of healing the sick and expelling demons are performed for the good of humanity. To Antichrist alone among workers of magic will it be permitted at the end of the world to mix in some beneficial acts with his evil marvels. Moreover, “by this means going beyond his bounds, and[Pg 418] being divided against himself, and fighting against himself, he shall be destroyed.”[1822] Later in The Recognitions, however, Aquila states that even the magic of the present has found ways of imitating by contraries the expulsion of demons by the word of God, that it can counteract the poisons of serpents by incantations, and can effect cures “contrary to the word and power of God.” He adds, “The magic art has also discovered ministries contrary to the angels of God, placing the evocation of souls and the figments of demons in opposition to these.”[1823]

So remarkable, indeed, are the wonders performed by Simon and by magicians in general that Niceta asks Peter how they can be told apart from divine signs and Christian miracles, and in what way someone sins if they conclude from the similarities of these signs and wonders that either Simon Magus is divine or that Christ was a magician. Speaking first about Pharaoh’s magicians, Niceta asks, “If I had been there, wouldn’t I have thought, from the fact that the magicians did similar things (to those which Moses did), either that Moses was a magician, or that the feats displayed by the magicians were done by divine power?... But if someone sins who believes in those who perform signs, how can it be that someone who has faith in our Lord for His signs and hidden powers does not also sin?” Peter replies that Simon’s magic doesn't help anyone, while the Christian miracles of healing the sick and casting out demons are done for the benefit of humanity. Only Antichrist among those who practice magic will be allowed at the end of the world to mix some helpful acts with his evil wonders. Furthermore, “by this means going beyond his limits, being divided against himself, and fighting against himself, he shall be destroyed.” Later in The Recognitions, however, Aquila states that even contemporary magic has found ways to mimic the expulsion of demons by the word of God in reverse, that it can counteract snake venom through incantations, and can achieve cures “against the word and power of God.” He adds, “The magic art has also discovered practices that oppose the angels of God, placing the summoning of souls and the tricks of demons in opposition to these.”

Deceit in magic.

But while the marvels of magic are admitted, there is a feeling that there is something deceitful and unreal about them. The teachings of the true prophet, we are told, “contain nothing subtle, nothing composed by magic art to deceive,”[1824] while Simon is “a deceiver and magician.”[1825] Nor is he deceitful merely in his religious teaching and his opposition to Peter; even his boasts of magic power are partly false. Aquila, his former disciple, says, “But when he spoke thus of the production of sprouts and the perforation of the mountain, I was confounded on this account, because he wished to deceive even us, in whom he seemed to place confidence; for we knew that those things had been from the days of our fathers, which he represented as having been done by himself lately.”[1826] Moreover, not only does Simon deceive others; he is himself deceived by demons as Peter twice asserts:[1827] “He is deluded by demons, yet he thinks that he sees the very substance of the soul.” “Although in this he is deluded by demons, yet he has persuaded himself that he has the soul of a murdered boy ministering to him in whatever he pleases to employ it.”

But while the wonders of magic are recognized, there's a sense that something about them feels dishonest and fake. The teachings of the true prophet, we are told, “contain nothing subtle, nothing crafted by magic to mislead,”[1824] while Simon is described as “a deceiver and magician.”[1825] He isn’t just deceitful in his religious teachings and his opposition to Peter; even his claims of magic abilities are partly untrue. Aquila, his former disciple, says, “But when he spoke like this about producing sprouts and drilling through the mountain, I was baffled because he intended to deceive even us, in whom he seemed to have confidence; for we knew that those things had been known since the days of our ancestors, which he claimed to have accomplished recently.”[1826] Moreover, Simon not only deceives others; he himself is fooled by demons, as Peter asserts twice:[1827] “He is misled by demons, yet he believes he sees the true essence of the soul.” “Even though in this he is misled by demons, he has convinced himself that he possesses the soul of a murdered boy serving him in whatever way he wants to use it.”

Murder of a boy.

This story of having sacrificed a pure boy for purposes of magic or divination was a stock charge, which we have previously heard made against Apollonius of Tyana and which was also told of the early Christians by their[Pg 419] pagan enemies and of the Jews and heretics in the middle ages. Simon is said to have confessed to Niceta and Aquila, when they asked how he worked his magic, that he received assistance from “the soul of a boy, unsullied and violently slain, and invoked by unutterable adjurations.” He went on to explain that “the soul of man holds the next place after God, when once it is set free from the darkness of the body. And immediately it acquires prescience, wherefore it is invoked in necromancy.” When Aquila asked why the soul did not take vengeance upon its slayer instead of performing the behests of magicians, Simon answered that the soul now had the last judgment too vividly before it to indulge in vengeance, and that the angels presiding over such souls do not permit them to return to earth unless “adjured by someone greater than themselves.”[1828] Niceta then indignantly interposed, “And do you not fear the day of judgment, who do violence to angels and invoke souls?” As a matter of fact, the charge that Simon had murdered or violently slain a boy is rather overdrawn, since the boy in question was the one whom he had made from air in the first place and whom he simply turned back into air again, claiming, however, to have thereby produced an unsullied human soul. According to The Homilies, however, he presently confided to Niceta and Aquila that the human soul did not survive the death of the body and that a demon really responded to his invocations.[1829]

This story of sacrificing a pure boy for magic or divination was a common accusation, previously made against Apollonius of Tyana and also directed at early Christians by their pagan enemies, as well as against Jews and heretics in the Middle Ages. Simon reportedly admitted to Niceta and Aquila, when they asked how he performed his magic, that he received help from “the soul of a boy, innocent and violently slain, summoned by unmentionable rituals.” He went on to explain that “the soul of man holds the next position after God, once it is freed from the darkness of the body. It immediately gains foresight, which is why it is called upon in necromancy.” When Aquila asked why the soul didn’t take revenge on its killer instead of serving magicians, Simon replied that the soul was too focused on the final judgment to seek vengeance, and that the angels overseeing such souls do not allow them to return to earth unless “summoned by someone greater than themselves.” Niceta then indignantly interrupted, “And do you not fear the day of judgment, you who violate angels and summon souls?” In fact, the accusation that Simon had murdered or violently slain a boy is a bit exaggerated, as the boy in question was one he had created from air in the first place and whom he merely turned back into air again, claiming, though, to have produced an innocent human soul. According to The Homilies, however, he eventually confided to Niceta and Aquila that the human soul did not survive the body’s death and that a demon actually responded to his summons.

Magic is evil.

Nevertheless, the charge of murder thus made against Simon illustrates the criminal character here as usually ascribed to magic. Simon is said to be “wicked above measure,” and to depend upon “magic arts and wicked devices,” and Peter accuses him of “acting by nefarious arts.”[1830][Pg 420] Simon in his turn calls Peter “a magician, a godless man, injurious, cunning, ignorant, and professing impossibilities,” and again “a magician, a sorcerer, a murderer.”[1831]

Nevertheless, the murder charge against Simon highlights the criminal nature typically associated with magic. Simon is described as “wicked beyond measure,” relying on “magical arts and evil schemes,” while Peter accuses him of “using malicious practices.”[1830][Pg 420] Simon, in response, calls Peter “a magician, a godless person, harmful, cunning, ignorant, and claiming the impossible,” and again refers to him as “a magician, a sorcerer, a murderer.”[1831]

Magic is an art.

A further characteristic of magic which comes out clearly in The Recognitions is that it is an art. Demons and souls of the dead may have a great deal to do with it, but it also requires a human operator and makes use of materials drawn from the world of nature. It was by anointing his face with an ointment which the magician had compounded that the countenance of Faustinianus was transformed into the likeness of Simon, while Appion and Anubion, who anointed their faces with the juice of a certain herb, were thereby enabled still to recognize Faustinianus as himself.[1832] In another passage one of Simon’s disciples who has deserted him and come to Peter tells how Simon had made him carry on his back to the seashore a bundle “of his polluted and accursed secret things.” Simon took the bundle out to sea in a boat and later returned without it.[1833] Simon not only employed natural materials in his magic, but was regarded as a learned man, even by his enemies. He is “by profession a magician, yet exceedingly well trained in Greek literature.”[1834] He is “a most vehement orator, trained in the dialectic art, and in the meshes of syllogisms; and what is most serious of all, he is greatly skilled in the magic art.”[1835] And he engages with Peter in theological debates. It is also interesting to note as an illustration of the connection between magic and experimental science that Simon, in boasting of his feats of magic, says, “For already I have achieved many things by way of experiment.”[1836]

A key aspect of magic that is clearly shown in The Recognitions is that it’s an art. While demons and the souls of the dead may play a significant role, it also requires a human practitioner and utilizes materials from nature. By applying an ointment that the magician created, Faustinianus’s face was changed to look like Simon’s, while Appion and Anubion were able to still recognize Faustinianus as himself after applying the juice of a specific herb. [1832] In another section, one of Simon's former disciples tells Peter how Simon made him carry a bundle “of his polluted and accursed secret things” to the seashore. Simon took the bundle out to sea in a boat and later came back without it. [1833] Simon not only used natural materials in his magic but was also seen as a knowledgeable man, even by those who opposed him. He is “by profession a magician, yet exceedingly well trained in Greek literature.” [1834] He is “a very passionate speaker, skilled in the art of debate, and in the intricacies of syllogisms; and what is most serious of all, he is highly proficient in the art of magic.” [1835] He also engages in theological discussions with Peter. It’s also noteworthy that Simon, while boasting about his magical abilities, states, “For already I have achieved many things by way of experiment.” [1836]

Other accounts of Simon Magus: Justin Martyr to Hippolytus.

In the Pseudo-Clementines we are told that Simon intended to go to Rome, but The Recognitions and The Homilies deal only with the conflicts between Peter and Simon in various Syrian cities and do not follow them to[Pg 421] Rome, where, as other Christian writers tell us, they had yet other encounters in which Simon finally came to his bitter end. Justin Martyr, writing about the middle of the second century, states that Simon, a Samaritan of Gitto, came to Rome in the reign of Claudius and performed such feats of magic by demon aid that a statue was erected to him as a god. In this matter of the statue Justin is thought to have confused Semo Sancus, a Sabine deity, with Simon. Justin adds that almost all Samaritans and a few persons from other nations still believe in Simon as the first God, and that a disciple of his, named Menander, deceived many by magic at Antioch. Justin complains that the followers of these men are still called Christians and on the other hand that the emperors do not persecute them as they do other Christians, although Justin charges them with practicing promiscuous sexual intercourse as well as magic.[1837] Irenaeus gives a very similar account.[1838] Origen, as we have seen, denied that there were more than thirty of Simon’s followers left,[1839] but his contemporary Tertullian wrote, “At this very time even the heretical dupes of this same Simon are so much elated by the extravagant pretensions of their art, that they undertake to bring up from Hades the souls of the prophets themselves. And I suppose that they can do so under cover of a lying wonder.”[1840] But Origen and Tertullian add nothing to the story of Simon Magus himself. Hippolytus, too, implies that Simon still has followers, since he devotes a number of chapters to stating and refuting Simon’s doctrines and to “teaching anew the parrots of Simon that Christ ... was not Simon.”[1841] But Hippolytus also gives further details concerning Simon’s visit to Rome, stating that he there encountered the apostles and was repeatedly opposed by Peter, until finally Simon declared that if he were buried alive he would rise again upon the third day.[Pg 422] His disciples buried him, as they were directed, but he never reappeared, “for he was not the Christ.”

In the Pseudo-Clementines, it's mentioned that Simon planned to go to Rome, but The Recognitions and The Homilies focus only on the disputes between Peter and Simon in various cities in Syria and don't follow them to[Pg 421] Rome, where, according to other Christian writers, they had further confrontations that ended badly for Simon. Justin Martyr, writing around the middle of the second century, states that Simon, a Samaritan from Gitto, came to Rome during the reign of Claudius and performed magical feats with the help of demons, leading to the erection of a statue in his honor as a god. In this case, Justin is believed to have confused Semo Sancus, a Sabine god, with Simon. Justin also notes that almost all Samaritans and a few individuals from other nations still view Simon as the first God, and that one of his followers, named Menander, deceived many through magic in Antioch. Justin expresses his frustration that the followers of these individuals are still referred to as Christians, and that emperors do not persecute them like they do other Christians, despite Justin accusing them of engaging in promiscuous sexual activities in addition to practicing magic.[1837] Irenaeus provides a very similar account.[1838] Origen, as we've seen, claimed that there were no more than thirty followers of Simon left,[1839] but his contemporary Tertullian wrote, “At this very time, even the deluded followers of this same Simon are so caught up in the extravagant claims of their art that they attempt to summon the souls of the prophets from Hades. And I suppose they think they can do this under the guise of a deceptive wonder.”[1840] However, Origen and Tertullian add nothing further about Simon Magus himself. Hippolytus also suggests that Simon still has followers, as he devotes several chapters to outlining and disputing Simon’s doctrines and to “re-educating Simon’s parrots that Christ ... was not Simon.”[1841] Additionally, Hippolytus provides more details about Simon’s visit to Rome, stating that he met the apostles and faced opposition from Peter multiple times, until Simon eventually claimed that if he were buried alive, he would rise again on the third day.[Pg 422] His followers buried him as instructed, but he never came back, “for he was not the Christ.”

Peter’s account in the Didascalia et Constitutiones Apostolorum.

Peter himself is represented as briefly recounting his struggle at Rome with Simon Magus in the Didascalia Apostolorum, an apocryphal work of probably the third century, extant in Syriac and Latin, and more fully in the parallel passage of the Greek Constitutiones Apostolorum, written perhaps about 400 A. D.[1842] Peter found Simon at Rome drawing many away from the church as well as seducing the Gentiles by his “magic operation and virtues,” or, in the Greek version, “magic experiments and the working of demons.”[1843] In the Syriac and Latin account Peter then states that one day he saw Simon flying through the air. “And standing beneath I said, ‘In the virtue of the holy name, Jesus, I cut off your virtues.’ And so falling he broke the arch (thigh?) of his foot (leg?).”[1844] But he did not die, since Peter goes on to say that while “many then departed from him, others who were worthy of him remained with him.” In the longer Greek version Simon announced his flight in the theater. While all eyes were turned on Simon, Peter prayed against him. Meanwhile Simon mounted aloft into mid-air, borne up, Peter says, by demons, and telling the people that he was ascending to heaven, whence he would return bringing them good tidings. The people applauded him as a god, but Peter stretched forth his hands to heaven, supplicating God through the Lord Jesus to dash down the corrupter and curtail the power of the demons. He asked further, however, that Simon might not be killed by his fall but merely bruised. Peter also addressed Simon and the evil powers who were supporting him, requiring that he might fall and become a laughing-stock to those who had been deceived by him. Thereupon Simon fell with a great commotion and bruised[Pg 423] his bottom and the soles of his feet. It will be noted that here, as in the accounts by some other authors, Peter alone struggles with Simon Magus, lending color to the Tübingen theory once suggested in connection with the Pseudo-Clementines, that Simon Magus is meant to represent the apostle Paul.

Peter himself briefly recounts his struggle in Rome with Simon Magus in the Didascalia Apostolorum, an apocryphal text likely from the third century, existing in Syriac and Latin, and more fully in the corresponding passage of the Greek Constitutiones Apostolorum, written around 400 A.D.[1842] Peter encountered Simon in Rome, where he was leading many people away from the church and enticing the Gentiles with his “magic operations and virtues,” or, in the Greek version, “magic experiments and the workings of demons.”[1843] In the Syriac and Latin accounts, Peter states that one day he saw Simon flying through the air. “And standing underneath I said, ‘In the power of the holy name, Jesus, I cut off your powers.’ And so, falling, he broke the arch (thigh?) of his foot (leg?).”[1844] But he did not die, as Peter goes on to say that while “many then left him, others who were worthy stayed with him.” In the longer Greek version, Simon announced his flight in the theater. While everyone was focused on Simon, Peter prayed against him. Meanwhile, Simon ascended high into the air, as Peter claims, supported by demons, telling the crowd that he was going up to heaven, from where he would return with good news. The people cheered for him as if he were a god, but Peter raised his hands to heaven, pleading with God through the Lord Jesus to bring down the deceiver and limit the power of the demons. He further asked that Simon not be killed by his fall, but only bruised. Peter also addressed Simon and the evil forces supporting him, demanding that he fall and become a laughingstock to those he had deceived. Then Simon fell with a loud commotion and bruised[Pg 423] his backside and the soles of his feet. It is important to note that here, as in the accounts by some other authors, Peter alone confronts Simon Magus, adding weight to the Tübingen theory once suggested in connection with the Pseudo-Clementines, which posits that Simon Magus represents the apostle Paul.

Arnobius, Cyril, and Philastrius.

Arnobius, writing about 300 A. D., gives a somewhat different account of Simon’s mode of flight and fall. He says that the people of Rome “saw the chariot of Simon Magus and his four fiery horses blown away by the mouth of Peter and vanish at the name of Christ. They saw, I say, him who had trusted false gods and been betrayed by them in their fright precipitated by his own weight and lying with broken legs. Then, after he had been carried to Brunda, worn out by his shame and sufferings, he again hurled himself down from the highest ridge of the roof.”[1845] Cyril of Jerusalem, 315-386 A. D., also speaks of Simon’s being borne in air in the chariot of demons, “and is not surprised that the combined prayers of Peter and Paul brought him down, since in addition to Jesus’s promise to answer the petition of two or three gathered together it is to be remembered that Peter carried the keys of heaven and that Paul had been rapt to the third heaven and heard secret words.”[1846] Philastrius, another writer of the fourth century, describes Simon’s death more vaguely, stating that after Peter had driven him from Jerusalem he came to Rome where they engaged in another contest before Nero. Simon was worsted by Peter on every point of argument, and, “smitten by an angel died a merited death in order that the falsity of his magic might be evident to all men.”[1847] But it is hardly worth while to pile up such brief allusions to Simon in the writings of the fathers.[1848]

Arnobius, writing around 300 A.D., offers a different story about Simon’s escape and downfall. He states that the people of Rome “saw Simon Magus' chariot and his four fiery horses blown away by Peter's words and disappear at the name of Christ. They witnessed, I say, him who had relied on false gods and was betrayed by them in their panic, crashing down under his own weight and lying with broken legs. Then, after being taken to Brunda, exhausted by his shame and suffering, he threw himself off the highest edge of the rooftop again.”[1845] Cyril of Jerusalem, 315-386 A.D., also mentions Simon being carried in the air in a chariot of demons, “and is not surprised that the combined prayers of Peter and Paul brought him down, since besides Jesus’s promise to answer the prayers of two or three gathered together, it’s important to remember that Peter had the keys of heaven and that Paul had been taken up to the third heaven and heard secret words.”[1846] Philastrius, another fourth-century writer, describes Simon’s death more vaguely, stating that after Peter drove him out of Jerusalem, he came to Rome where they had another contest before Nero. Simon was outmatched by Peter on every argument, and, “struck down by an angel, he died a well-deserved death so that the falsehood of his magic would be clear to all.”[1847] But it hardly seems worthwhile to gather such brief references to Simon found in the writings of the fathers.[1848]

[Pg 424]

[Pg 424]

Apocryphal Acts of Peter and Paul.

Other fuller accounts of Simon’s doings at Rome are contained in the Syriac Teaching of Simon Cephas[1849] and in the apocryphal Acts of Peter and Paul.[1850] In the former Peter urges the people of Rome not to allow the sorcerer Simon to delude them by semblances which are not realities, and he raises a dead man to life after Simon has failed to do so. In the latter work Simon opposes Peter and Paul in the presence of Nero and as usual they charge one another with being magicians. Simon also as usual affirms that he is Christ, and we are told that the chief priests had called Jesus a wizard. Simon had already made a great impression upon Nero by causing brazen serpents to move and stone statues to laugh, and by altering both his face and stature and changing first to a child and then to an old man. Nero also asserts that Simon has raised a dead man and that Simon himself rose on the third day after being beheaded. It is later explained, however, that Simon had arranged to have the beheading take place in a dark corner and through his magic had substituted a ram for himself. The ram appeared to be Simon until after it had been decapitated, when the executioner discovered that the head was that of a ram but did not dare report the fact to Nero. When Simon met the apostles in Nero’s presence, he caused great dogs to rush suddenly at Peter, but Peter made them vanish into air by showing them some bread which he had been secretly blessing and breaking. As a final test Simon promised to ascend to heaven if Nero would build him a tower in the Campus Martius, where “my angels may find me in the air, for they cannot come to me upon earth among sinners.” The tower was duly provided, and Simon, crowned with laurel, began to fly successfully until Peter, tearfully entreated by Paul to make haste, adjured the angels of Satan who were supporting Simon to let him drop. Simon then fell upon the Sacra Via and his body was broken into[Pg 425] four parts.[1851] Nero, however, chose to regard the apostles as Simon’s murderers and put them to death, after which a Marcellus, who had been Simon’s disciple but left him to join Peter, secretly buried Peter’s body.

Other detailed accounts of Simon’s activities in Rome can be found in the Syriac Teaching of Simon Cephas[1849] and the apocryphal Acts of Peter and Paul.[1850] In the first, Peter warns the people of Rome not to let the sorcerer Simon trick them with illusions that aren’t real, and he brings a dead man back to life after Simon fails to do so. In the latter work, Simon confronts Peter and Paul in front of Nero, and as usual, they accuse each other of being magicians. Simon again claims he is Christ, and it’s noted that the chief priests had labeled Jesus as a wizard. Simon had already impressed Nero by making bronze serpents move and stone statues laugh, and by changing his appearance to that of a child, then an old man. Nero also claims that Simon raised a dead man and that Simon himself rose on the third day after being beheaded. However, it’s later revealed that Simon arranged for his beheading to happen in a dark place and used his magic to swap himself with a ram. The ram looked like Simon until it was decapitated, when the executioner saw that the head belonged to a ram but didn’t dare tell Nero. When Simon met the apostles in Nero's presence, he sent large dogs suddenly charging at Peter, but Peter made them disappear by showing them some bread he had been secretly blessing and breaking. As a final challenge, Simon promised to ascend to heaven if Nero would build him a tower in the Campus Martius, where "my angels may find me in the air, for they cannot come to me upon earth among sinners." The tower was built, and Simon, crowned with laurel, began to fly successfully until Peter, tearfully urged by Paul to hurry, called on the angels of Satan supporting Simon to let him fall. Simon then dropped onto the Sacra Via, and his body was shattered into[Pg 425] four pieces.[1851] Nero, however, decided to see the apostles as Simon’s murderers and executed them. Afterward, a Marcellus, who had been Simon’s disciple but left him to join Peter, secretly buried Peter’s body.

An account ascribed to Marcellus.

To this Marcellus is ascribed a very similar narrative which is found in an early medieval manuscript and was perhaps written in the seventh or eighth century.[1852] Fabricius and Florentinus give its title as, Of the marvelous deeds and acts of the blessed Peter and Paul and of Simon’s magic arts.[1853] I have read it in a Latin pamphlet printed at some time before 1500, where the full title runs: The Passion of the Apostles Peter and Paul, and their disputation before the emperor Nero against Simon, a certain magician, who, when he saw that he could not resist the utterances of St. Peter, cast all his books of magic into the sea lest he be adjudged a magician. Then when the same Simon Magus presumed to ascend to heaven, overcome by St. Peter he fell to earth and perished most miserably. At its close occurs the statement, “I, Marcellus, a disciple of my lord, the apostle Peter, have written what I saw.” When this Marcellus began to desert his former master, Simon, to follow Peter, Simon procured a big dog to keep Peter away from Marcellus, but at Peter’s order the dog turned upon Simon himself. Peter then humanely forbade the beast to do Simon any serious bodily injury, but the dog tore the magician’s clothing off his back, and Simon was chased from town by the mob and did not venture to return until after a year’s time.[1854]

Marcellus is associated with a similar story found in an early medieval manuscript, likely written in the seventh or eighth century. Fabricius and Florentinus title it, Of the Marvelous Deeds and Acts of the Blessed Peter and Paul and of Simon’s Magic Arts. I read it in a Latin pamphlet printed sometime before 1500, where the full title is: The Passion of the Apostles Peter and Paul, and their Disputation Before the Emperor Nero Against Simon, a Certain Magician, Who, When He Saw That He Could Not Resist the Utterances of St. Peter, Cast All His Books of Magic into the Sea Lest He Be Judged a Magician. Then When the Same Simon Magus Presumed to Ascend to Heaven, Overcome by St. Peter, He Fell to Earth and Perished Most Miserably. At the end, it states, “I, Marcellus, a disciple of my lord, the apostle Peter, have written what I saw.” When Marcellus decided to leave his former master, Simon, to follow Peter, Simon got a large dog to keep Peter away from Marcellus, but at Peter’s command, the dog turned on Simon. Peter then kindly instructed the dog not to seriously harm Simon, but the dog ripped the magician’s clothes off his back, and Simon was driven out of town by the crowd, not daring to return for a whole year.

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[Pg 426]

Hegesippus.

A chapter is devoted to Simon Magus in the History of the Jewish War of the so-called Hegesippus, a name which is thought to be a corruption of Josephus, since the work in large measure reproduces that historian. At any rate it was not written until the fourth century and is probably a translation or adaptation by Ambrose. Its account of Simon Magus combines the story of his competition with Peter in raising the dead, “for in such works Peter was held most celebrated,” with that of his flight and fall. He is represented as launching his flight from the Capitoline Hill and leaping off the Tarpeian rock. The people marveled at his flight, some remarking that Christ had never performed such a feat as this. But when Peter prayed against him, “straightway his propeller was tangled up in Peter’s voice, and he fell, nor was he killed, but, weakened by a broken leg, withdrew to Aricia and died there.”[1855]

A chapter focuses on Simon Magus in the History of the Jewish War by the so-called Hegesippus, a name believed to be a corrupted version of Josephus, since the work largely reflects that historian's writing. Regardless, it wasn't written until the fourth century and is likely a translation or adaptation by Ambrose. Its account of Simon Magus combines the tale of his rivalry with Peter in raising the dead, “for in such works Peter was considered the most celebrated,” with the story of his escape and downfall. He is depicted as taking off from the Capitoline Hill and jumping off the Tarpeian rock. The crowd was astonished by his flight, with some commenting that Christ had never done anything quite like this. But when Peter prayed against him, “immediately his propeller got tangled in Peter’s voice, and he fell, not dead, but, with a broken leg, he retreated to Aricia and died there.”[1855]

A sermon on Simon’s fall.

Finally, passing over other Latin accounts of the contest between the apostles and Simon Magus to be found in the Apostolic Histories of the Pseudo-Abdias[1856] and in a work ascribed to Pope Linus,[1857] we may note a sermon which has been variously ascribed in the manuscripts and printed editions to Augustine, Ambrose, and Maximus.[1858] This sermon, intended for the anniversary of the day of martyrdom of Peter and Paul, proceeds to inquire the cause of their death and finds it in the fact that among other marvels they “prostrated by their prayers that magician Simon in a headlong fall from the empty air. For when the same Simon called himself Christ and asserted that as the Son he could ascend unto the Father by flying, and, suddenly[Pg 427] raised up by magic arts, began to fly, then Peter on his knees prayed the Lord, and by sacred prayer overcame the magical levitation. For the prayer ascended to the Lord before the flier, and the just petition arrived ere the iniquitous presumption. Peter, I say, though placed on the ground, obtained what he sought before Simon reached the heaven towards which he was tending. So then Peter brought him down like a captive from high in air, and, falling precipitately upon a rock, he broke his legs. And this in contumely of his feat, so that he who just before had tried to fly, of a sudden could not even walk, and he who had assumed wings lost even his feet. But lest it appear strange that, while the apostle was present, that magician should fly through the air even for a while, let it be explained that this was due to Peter’s patience. For he let him soar the higher in order that he might fall the farther; for he wished him to be carried aloft where everyone could see him, in order that all might see him when he fell from on high.” The preacher then draws the moral that pride goes before a fall.

Finally, skipping over other Latin accounts of the competition between the apostles and Simon Magus found in the Apostolic Histories of the Pseudo-Abdias[1856] and in a work attributed to Pope Linus,[1857] we should note a sermon that has been variously attributed in the manuscripts and printed editions to Augustine, Ambrose, and Maximus.[1858] This sermon, meant for the anniversary of Peter and Paul’s martyrdom, investigates the reason for their deaths and identifies it as the fact that among other miracles they “brought down that magician Simon with their prayers in a headlong fall from the empty air. For when the same Simon called himself Christ and claimed he could ascend to the Father like the Son by flying, and suddenly rose up through magic, he began to fly. Then Peter, on his knees, prayed to the Lord, and through sacred prayer overcame the magical levitation. For the prayer rose to the Lord before the flier, and the just petition arrived before the wicked presumption. Peter, I say, although grounded, achieved what he sought before Simon reached the heaven he was aiming for. So then Peter brought him down like a prisoner from high in the air, and, crashing down onto a rock, he broke his legs. This was in mockery of his act, so that he who had just tried to fly suddenly could not even walk, and he who had taken on wings lost even his feet. But to prevent it from seeming strange that the magician could fly through the air for any length of time while the apostle was present, it should be clarified that this was due to Peter’s patience. He allowed Simon to soar higher so he would fall farther; he wanted him to be lifted high where everyone could see him, so that all could witness him when he fell from above.” The preacher then concludes with the moral that pride goes before a fall.

Simon Magus in medieval art.

The struggle of Peter and Paul with Simon Magus at Rome appears in The Golden Legend, compiled by Jacopo de Voragine in the thirteenth century, and was likewise a favorite theme of Gothic stained glass. At Chartres and Angers Peter may be seen routing Simon’s dogs by blessing bread; at Bourges and Lyons Simon and Peter compete in raising the dead; while windows at Chartres, Bourges, Tours, Reims, and Poitiers show the apostles praying and Simon falling and breaking his neck.[1859] This last scene and also the disputation before Nero are represented in the earlier mosaics of the eleventh or twelfth century which the Norman rulers of Sicily had executed in the cathedral of Monreale and the royal chapel of their castle at Palermo.[1860]

The clash between Peter and Paul and Simon Magus in Rome is featured in The Golden Legend, compiled by Jacopo de Voragine in the thirteenth century, and it was also a popular subject in Gothic stained glass. At Chartres and Angers, you can see Peter driving away Simon's demons by blessing bread; at Bourges and Lyons, Simon and Peter are shown competing to raise the dead; while windows at Chartres, Bourges, Tours, Reims, and Poitiers depict the apostles praying and Simon falling to his death. [1859] This last scene, along with the debate before Nero, is illustrated in the earlier mosaics from the eleventh or twelfth century, created by the Norman rulers of Sicily in the cathedral of Monreale and the royal chapel of their castle in Palermo. [1860]


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[Pg 428]

CHAPTER XVIII
THE CONFESSION OF CYPRIAN AND SOME SIMILAR STORIES

The Confession of Cyprian—His initiation into mysteries—His thorough study of nature, divination, and magic—The lore of Egypt—And of Chaldea—Cyprian’s practice of magic at Antioch—A Christian virgin defeats the magic of the demons—Summary of Cyprian’s picture of magic—Christians accused of magic—A story from Epiphanius—Joseph’s experience of miracle and magic—Legend of St. James and Hermogenes the magician—Other contests of apostles and magicians in The Golden Legend.

The Confession of Cyprian—His introduction to mysteries—His deep exploration of nature, fortune-telling, and magic—The knowledge of Egypt—And of Chaldea—Cyprian’s practice of magic in Antioch—A Christian virgin overcomes the demons' magic—Overview of Cyprian’s view of magic—Christians being accused of practicing magic—A tale from Epiphanius—Joseph’s experience with miracles and magic—The legend of St. James and Hermogenes the magician—Other contests between apostles and magicians in The Golden Legend.

The Confession of Cyprian.

To the accounts of the contests of Peter and Paul with Simon Magus which were recorded in our last chapter we shall add in this some other encounters of early Christians with magicians, and to the picture of magic contained in the Pseudo-Clementines that presented by Cyprian in his Confession. If Simon Magus died impenitent in the midst of his magic, very different was the end of Cyprian, a magician by profession in the third century, who, after being educated from childhood in heathen mysteries and the magic art, repented and was baptized, became bishop of Antioch, and finally achieved a martyr’s crown. In the Confession[1861] current under his name and which most critics agree was composed before the time of Constantine[1862] is described his[Pg 429] education in and subsequent practice of magic. For us perhaps the most interesting feature of his account of his education is the association of magic, not only with pagan mysteries and the operations of demons, but also with natural science.

To the stories of the contests between Peter and Paul and Simon Magus that we covered in the last chapter, we will now add some other encounters of early Christians with magicians, and to the depiction of magic found in the Pseudo-Clementines, we will include that presented by Cyprian in his Confession. While Simon Magus met an unrepentant end amid his magic, Cyprian, a magician by trade in the third century, had a very different fate. After being raised in pagan mysteries and the art of magic, he repented, was baptized, became the bishop of Antioch, and ultimately received a martyr’s crown. In the Confession[1861] attributed to him, which most critics believe was written before Constantine's time[1862], he describes his[Pg 429] education and later practice of magic. Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of his account of his education is the link between magic, not only with pagan mysteries and demonic practices but also with natural science.

His initiation into mysteries.

“I am Cyprian,” says the author, “who from a tender age was consecrated a gift to Apollo and while yet a child was initiated into the arts of the dragon.” When not yet seven years old, he entered the mysteries of Mithra, and at ten his parents enrolled him a citizen at Athens, and he carried a torch in the mysteries of Demeter and “ministered to the dragon on the citadel of Pallas.” When not yet fifteen, he also visited Mount Olympus for forty days, and “was initiated into sonorous speeches and noisy narrations.”[1863] There he saw in phantasy trees and herbs which seemed to be moved by the presence of the gods, spirits who regulated the passage of time, and choruses of demons who sang, while others waged war or plotted, deceived, and permeated.[1864] He saw the phalanx of each god and goddess, and how from Mount Olympus as from a palace spirits were despatched to every nation of the earth. He was fed only after sunset and upon fruits, and was taught the efficacy of each of them by seven hierophants.

“I am Cyprian,” says the author, “who from a young age was dedicated as a gift to Apollo and while still a child was introduced to the arts of the dragon.” By the time he was seven, he entered the mysteries of Mithra, and at ten his parents registered him as a citizen in Athens, where he carried a torch in the mysteries of Demeter and “served the dragon on the citadel of Pallas.” Before he turned fifteen, he also spent forty days on Mount Olympus, where “he was initiated into sonorous speeches and noisy narrations.”[1863] There, he imagined seeing trees and plants that seemed to react to the presence of the gods, spirits who controlled the passage of time, and groups of demons who sang, while others fought or schemed and deceived. [1864] He observed the ranks of each god and goddess, and how from Mount Olympus, like a palace, spirits were sent to every nation on earth. He was only fed after sunset and on fruits, learning about the power of each one from seven hierophants.

His thorough study of nature, divination, and magic.

Cyprian’s parents were determined that he should learn whatever there was in earth and air and sea, and not merely the natural generation and corruption of herbs and trees and bodies, but also the virtues implanted in all these, which the prince of this world impressed upon them in order that he might oppose the divine constitution. Cyprian also participated at Argos in the sacred rites of Hera, and saw the union of air with ether and of ether with air, also of earth with water, and water with air. He penetrated the Troad and to Artemis Tauropolos who is at Lacedaemon to learn[Pg 430] how matter was confused and divided “and the profundities of sinister and cruel legends.” From the Phrygians he learned liver divination; among the barbarians he studied auspices and the significance of the movements of quadrupeds, and how to interpret omens and the language of birds, and the sounds made by every kind of wood and stone, or by the dead in tombs and the creaking of doors. He became acquainted with the palpitations of the limbs, the movement of the blood and pulse in bodies, all the extensions and corollaries of ratios and numbers, diseases simulated as well as natural, “and oaths which are heard yet are not audible, and pacts for discord.” There was, in fine, nothing whatever in earth or sea or air that he did not know, whether it was a matter of science or phantasy, of mechanics or artifice, “even down to the magic translation of writings and other things of that sort.”

Cyprian’s parents were determined that he should learn everything about the earth, air, and sea—not just the natural growth and decay of plants, trees, and bodies, but also the underlying qualities inherent in them, which the ruler of this world instilled to counter the divine order. Cyprian also took part in the sacred ceremonies of Hera at Argos, witnessing the merging of air with ether and vice versa, as well as the combination of earth with water and water with air. He traveled to the Troad and to Artemis Tauropolos in Lacedaemon to understand how matter was mixed and separated, along with the depths of dark and cruel myths. From the Phrygians, he learned liver divination; among other cultures, he studied omens and the significance of animal movements, as well as how to interpret signs from birds and the sounds made by various woods and stones, or by the dead in graves and creaky doors. He became familiar with the rhythms of body movement, the circulation of blood and pulse, all the aspects and extensions of ratios and numbers, both feigned and actual illnesses, “and oaths that are spoken yet unheard, and agreements meant to cause strife.” In short, there was absolutely nothing in the earth, sea, or air that he did not understand, whether it involved science or imagination, mechanics or tricks, “including the magical interpretation of texts and similar matters.”

The lore of Egypt.

At twenty Cyprian was admitted to the shrines at ancient Memphis in Egypt and learned what communication and relationship existed between demons and earthly things and “in what stars and laws and objects they delight.” He witnessed imitations of earthquakes, rain, and storms at sea. He saw the souls of giants held in darkness and fancied that they sustained the earth as a load on their shoulders. He saw the communications of serpents with demons, ideas of transfigurations, impious piety, science without reason, iniquitous justice, and things topsy-turvy generally. Besides the forms of various sins and vices, such as fornication and avarice, which suggest the medieval personification of the seven deadly sins, he saw the three hundred and sixty-five varieties of ailments, “and the empty glory and the empty virtue” with which the priests of Egypt had deceived the Greek philosophers.

At twenty, Cyprian was admitted to the temples in ancient Memphis, Egypt, where he learned about the communication and connections between demons and earthly things, and the "stars, laws, and objects they are drawn to." He witnessed simulated earthquakes, rain, and storms at sea. He saw the souls of giants trapped in darkness and imagined they held up the earth like a burden on their shoulders. He observed the interactions between serpents and demons, concepts of transformation, false piety, science lacking reason, unjust justice, and a world turned upside down. Along with various forms of sin and vice, like fornication and greed, reminiscent of the medieval depiction of the seven deadly sins, he encountered three hundred and sixty-five types of ailments, as well as "the hollow glory and the hollow virtue" that the priests of Egypt had used to mislead Greek philosophers.

And of Chaldea.

At thirty Cyprian left Egypt for Chaldea in order to acquire its lore concerning air, fire, and light. Here he was instructed in the qualities of stars as well as of herbs, and their “choruses like drawn-up battle lines.” He was taught the house and relationships of each star and its[Pg 431] appropriate food and drink. Also the meetings of spirits with men in light, the three hundred and sixty-five demons who divide as many parts of the ether between them, and the sacrifices, libations, and words appropriate to each. Cyprian’s education had now advanced to such a point that the devil himself hailed him, mere youth as he was, as a new Jambres, a skilful and reliable practitioner, and worthy of communication with himself. Cyprian again explains at this point that in all the stars and plants and other works of God the devil has bound to himself likenesses in preparation to wage war with God and His angels, but these likenesses are shadowy images, not solid substances. The devil’s rain is not water, his fire does not burn, his fish are not food, and his gold is not genuine. The devil obtains the material for his products from the vapors of sacrifices.

At thirty, Cyprian left Egypt for Chaldea to learn about air, fire, and light. There, he was taught about the qualities of stars and herbs, and their “choruses like drawn-up battle lines.” He learned the characteristics and relationships of each star, along with their proper food and drink. He also studied the interactions of spirits with humans in light, the three hundred and sixty-five demons who each claim a part of the ether, and the offerings, libations, and words suitable for each. Cyprian’s education reached a point where even the devil recognized him, despite his youth, as a new Jambres, a skilled and dependable practitioner worthy of direct communication. At this point, Cyprian explains that in all the stars, plants, and other creations of God, the devil has tied himself to imitations in preparation to wage war against God and His angels, but these imitations are shadowy images, not solid substances. The devil’s rain isn’t real water, his fire doesn’t burn, his fish aren’t food, and his gold isn’t genuine. The devil gathers the materials for his creations from the vapors of sacrifices.

Cyprian’s practice of magic at Antioch.

Cyprian now returned from Chaldea and wrought marvels at Antioch “like one of the ancients,” and “made many experiments of magic and became celebrated as a magician and philosopher endowed with vast knowledge of things invisible.” Men came to him to be taught magic or to secure their ends by his assistance. And he easily helped them all, some to the gratification of pleasure, others to triumph over their adversaries or even to slay their rivals. His conscience sometimes pricked him at the evil deeds which he thus wrought with the aid of demons, but as yet he did not doubt that the devil was all powerful.

Cyprian had just returned from Chaldea and worked wonders in Antioch “like one of the ancients,” becoming well-known as a magician and philosopher with extensive knowledge of the unseen. People came to him seeking to learn magic or to achieve their goals with his help. He easily assisted them all, some seeking pleasure, others wanting to overcome their enemies or even eliminate their rivals. Occasionally, his conscience bothered him about the evil things he was doing with the help of demons, but he still believed that the devil was all-powerful.

A Christian virgin defeats the magic of the demons.

But then the case of the Christian girl Justina revealed to him the weakness and fraud of the devil. Determined to dedicate herself to a life of virginity, Justina repulsed the love of the youth Aglaïdes, who sought Cyprian’s assistance. But in vain: the demon failed to alter Justina’s determination and was not even able to give another girl the form of Justina and so deceive Aglaïdes. Justina was shown the form of her lover, but she called upon the Virgin, and the devil was forced to vanish in smoke. Nor did disease and other plagues and torments affect her resolution. Her parents, however, were similarly afflicted until they besought[Pg 432] her to marry Aglaïdes, but instead she cured them of their ailments by the sign of the cross. The devil then inflicted a plague on the entire community and delivered an oracle to the effect that the pest could be stayed only by the marriage of Justina and Aglaïdes, but her prayers turned the wrath of the public from herself against Cyprian. When the magician in disgust cursed the demon for the evil pass to which he had thus brought him, the demon made a ferocious attack upon him, from which Cyprian saved himself just in the nick of time by calling upon God for aid and making the sign of the cross. He then publicly confessed his crimes as a magician, burned his books of magic, and was baptized into the Christian faith.[1865]

But then the story of the Christian girl Justina showed him the weakness and trickery of the devil. Determined to live a life of purity, Justina rejected the love of the young man Aglaïdes, who sought Cyprian’s help. But it was in vain: the demon couldn’t change Justina’s resolve and wasn’t even able to create another girl who looked like Justina to trick Aglaïdes. Justina was shown the appearance of her lover, but she prayed to the Virgin, and the devil was forced to disappear in smoke. Neither sickness nor other afflictions could shake her determination. However, her parents were similarly tormented until they begged her to marry Aglaïdes, but instead, she healed them of their illnesses with the sign of the cross. The devil then sent a plague upon the whole community and declared that the outbreak could only be stopped by the marriage of Justina and Aglaïdes, but her prayers redirected the public’s anger away from her and towards Cyprian. When the magician, in frustration, cursed the demon for the trouble he had caused him, the demon launched a fierce attack on him, from which Cyprian barely escaped by calling upon God for help and making the sign of the cross. He then publicly confessed his wrongdoings as a magician, burned his books of magic, and was baptized into the Christian faith.[1865]

Summary of Cyprian’s picture of magic.

Cyprian’s Confession thus represents magic as a very elaborate art, requiring long study and a thorough knowledge of natural objects and processes. The magician has his books, and he must also be able to read the book of nature. Astrology and other arts of divination are integral parts of magic. But magic is also represented as the work of evil spirits. This involves not merely a Neo-Platonic sort of association of demons with natural forces and regions of earth or sky, but also the specific association of the devil for evil purposes with objects in nature, a doctrine which we shall find again in the works of a medieval saint, Hildegard of Bingen. Furthermore, magic aids in the commission of crime and is dangerous even to the magician against whom the devil may turn. While magic involves study of nature and use of natural forces and associations, and we also hear of “many experiments of magic,” it is scarcely represented as operating scientifically in the Confession. It is mystic, confused, shadowy, imitative, imaginary, lacking in solidity and reality, fraudulent and deceptive. Finally, this complex art, this universal system of knowledge, is easily balked and overthrown by the far simpler[Pg 433] counter-magic of Christianity, by such methods as a prayer to the Virgin, calling on the name of God, or merely making the sign of the cross.

Cyprian’s Confession portrays magic as a complex art that requires extensive study and a deep understanding of natural objects and processes. The magician has their books, but they also need to be able to read the book of nature. Astrology and other forms of divination are essential components of magic. However, magic is also depicted as the work of evil spirits. This not only involves a Neo-Platonic connection between demons and natural forces in various earthly or celestial realms, but it also includes the specific link of the devil to objects in nature for malicious purposes, a concept that we will see later in the works of the medieval saint, Hildegard of Bingen. Furthermore, magic can facilitate crime and poses risks even to the magician themselves, who may become targets of the devil. While magic entails studying nature and utilizing natural forces and connections, it is not portrayed as scientific in the Confession. Instead, it is mystical, confusing, shadowy, imitative, and imaginary, lacking in substance and reality, and is ultimately deceitful. Lastly, this intricate art, this all-encompassing system of knowledge, can be easily countered and defeated by the much simpler counter-magic of Christianity, through methods such as a prayer to the Virgin, invoking the name of God, or simply making the sign of the cross.

Christians accused of magic.

Such counter-magic was apt to be regarded as magic by the pagans, and the account of the martyrdom of Cyprian states that the devil, that “very bad serpent,” suggested to the Count of the Orient that Cyprian, together with a certain virgin who is assumed to be Justina, was destroying the ancient worship of the gods by his magic tricks as well as stirring up the orient and the whole world by his epistles. He was accordingly arrested and finally beheaded. According to one account he and Justina were first placed together in a cauldron of tallow and pitch over a fire. But when they sang a hymn, the flames left them uninjured and instead shot out and caused the death of an unreformed magician who happened to be standing near by.[1866] Another case of Christian martyrs who were probably accused of magic is found in Spain about 287 A. D. Two Christian sisters who were dealers in pottery refused to sell their earthenware for purposes of pagan worship. One day, as a pagan religious procession passed by their shop, the crowd trampled upon their wares which were exposed for sale. But thereupon the idol which was being borne in the procession fell and broke in pieces. “Being probably suspected of magical practices,” the two sisters were arrested; one died in prison and the other was strangled; whereupon the bishop rescued their bones, and these were cherished as the remains of martyrs.[1867]

Such counter-magic was likely viewed as magic by the pagans, and the story of Cyprian's martyrdom says that the devil, that “very bad serpent,” suggested to the Count of the Orient that Cyprian, along with a certain virgin believed to be Justina, was undermining the ancient worship of the gods with his magic and stirring up the East and the whole world with his letters. He was consequently arrested and ultimately beheaded. According to one account, he and Justina were first placed together in a cauldron of tallow and pitch over a fire. But when they sang a hymn, the flames left them unharmed and instead shot out, leading to the death of a nearby magician who had not reformed. [1866] Another case of Christian martyrs who were likely accused of magic took place in Spain around 287 A.D. Two Christian sisters who sold pottery refused to offer their earthenware for pagan worship. One day, as a pagan religious procession passed by their store, the crowd trampled on their goods displayed for sale. Then, the idol being carried in the procession fell and shattered. “Being probably suspected of magical practices,” the two sisters were arrested; one died in prison and the other was strangled. Afterwards, the bishop rescued their bones, which were venerated as the remains of martyrs. [1867]

A story from Epiphanius.

Epiphanius in the next century tells a story similar to that of Cyprian, Aglaïdes, and Justina, of a youth who was led astray by evil companions who employed magic arts, love philters, and incantations to force free women to gratify their licentious desires. By means of magic the youth went through the air to a very beautiful woman in[Pg 434] the public bath, but she repelled him by making the sign of the cross. His companions then tried to devise some more powerful magic for his benefit, and took him at sunset to a cemetery full of caves where for three successive nights the wizards vainly plied their arts in the attempt to gratify his lust. But in every instance they were foiled by the name of Christ and the sign of the cross.[1868]

Epiphanius in the next century shares a story similar to that of Cyprian, Aglaïdes, and Justina, about a young man who was led astray by bad friends who used magic, love potions, and spells to force women to satisfy their sinful desires. Using magic, the young man flew through the air to a very beautiful woman in the public bath, but she rejected him by making the sign of the cross. His friends then tried to come up with stronger magic to help him, and took him at sunset to a cemetery filled with caves, where for three nights in a row the wizards unsuccessfully used their magic to satisfy his lust. But each time, they were stopped by the name of Christ and the sign of the cross.[Pg 434]

Joseph’s experience of miracle and magic.

Joseph, the guardian of this same young man, finally became converted to Christianity after Christ had appeared repeatedly to him in dreams and cured him of diseases and after he himself, by employing the name of Jesus, had cured a man of a demoniacal possession which made him go shamelessly about the town in a nude state. After his conversion, Joseph started to complete as a Christian church an unfinished structure in Tiberias called the Adrianaion, which the citizens previously had tried to convert into a public bath. When the Jews endeavored to ruin his undertaking by bewitching the furnaces which he had erected for the preparation of quick-lime, he counteracted their magic by making the sign of the cross, sprinkling his furnaces with holy water, and saying in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, “Let there be power in this water to counteract all pharmacy and magic employed by these men and to instill sufficient energy into the fire to complete the house of the Lord.” With that his fires blazed up violently.[1869]

Joseph, the guardian of this same young man, finally converted to Christianity after Christ appeared to him multiple times in dreams and healed him of illnesses. He also used the name of Jesus to heal a man who was possessed by a demon, which had caused him to wander around town naked. After his conversion, Joseph began to finish an unfinished building in Tiberias called the Adrianaion, which the locals had previously tried to turn into a public bath. When the Jews tried to sabotage his project by casting spells on the furnaces he built for making quick-lime, he countered their magic by making the sign of the cross, sprinkling holy water on his furnaces, and saying in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, “Let this water have the power to nullify all the sorcery and magic of these men and to energize the fire to complete the house of the Lord.” With that, his fires roared up fiercely.[1869]

Legend of St. James and Hermogenes the magician.

Very similar both to the Confession of Cyprian and the story of Simon Magus is the legend of St. James the Great[Pg 435] and Hermogenes the magician, which is found in The Golden Legend and which was often reproduced in medieval stained glass windows.[1870] James converted to Christianity a disciple of Hermogenes whom the magician had sent against him when he was preaching in Judea. When the angry wizard cast a spell over his erstwhile disciple, the latter was freed by means of St. James’s cloak. When the magician sent demons to fetch both the convert and the saint, James made them bring Hermogenes to him instead, but then set him free, telling him that Christians returned good for evil. Hermogenes now feared the vengeance that the demons would take upon himself, and so James gave his staff to him to protect himself with. Soon afterwards Hermogenes threw all his books of magic into the sea and was baptized.

Very similar to the Confession of Cyprian and the story of Simon Magus is the legend of St. James the Great[Pg 435] and Hermogenes the magician, which appears in The Golden Legend and was often depicted in medieval stained glass windows. James converted a disciple of Hermogenes who had been sent to confront him while he was preaching in Judea. When the furious magician cast a spell on his former disciple, he was freed by St. James’s cloak. When the magician sent demons to capture both the convert and the saint, James made them bring Hermogenes to him instead but then let him go, telling him that Christians repay good for evil. Now fearing the vengeance that the demons would take on him, Hermogenes received James's staff for protection. Soon after, Hermogenes threw all his magic books into the sea and was baptized.

Other contests of apostles and magicians in The Golden Legend.

“In The Golden Legend,” in fact, as Mâle says, “almost all the apostles have to contend with magicians. But it is St. Simon and St. Jude who strive with the most formidable of sorcerers, and they challenge him even in the very sanctuary of magic art, the temple of the Sun at Suanir, near Babylon. Undismayed by the science of Zoroaster and Aphaxad, they foretell the future, they cause a new-born babe to speak, they subdue tigers and serpents, and from a statue they cast out a demon, which shows itself in the shape of a black Ethiopian and flees uttering raucous cries.”[1871] If this last exorcism reminds us somewhat of the exploits of Apollonius of Tyana, still more do the performances of St. Andrew, who “must surpass all the marvels of the magicians before he can convert Asia and Greece. He drives away seven demons who in the shape of seven great dogs desolate the town of Nicaea, and he exorcises a spirit which dwells in the thermae and is wont to strangle the bathers.”[1872]

“In The Golden Legend,” as Mâle notes, “almost all the apostles encounter magicians. But it's St. Simon and St. Jude who confront the most powerful sorcerer, challenging him right in the heart of magical practice, the temple of the Sun at Suanir, near Babylon. Unfazed by the knowledge of Zoroaster and Aphaxad, they predict the future, make a newborn baby speak, tame tigers and snakes, and expel a demon from a statue, which appears as a black Ethiopian and flees with loud, harsh cries.”[1871] If this last exorcism reminds us a bit of the feats of Apollonius of Tyana, St. Andrew’s actions are even more impressive, as he “must exceed all the wonders of the magicians before he can convert Asia and Greece. He drives away seven demons that take the form of seven huge dogs terrorizing the town of Nicaea, and he exorcises a spirit that resides in the thermae and is known to strangle bathers.”[1872]


[Pg 436]

[Pg 436]

CHAPTER XIX
ORIGEN AND CELSUS

Celsus’ charges of magic against Christianity—Hebrew magic as depicted by Celsus—Various recriminations of magic—Origen’s distinction between miracles and magic—Origen frees Jews as well as Christians from the charge of magic—Celsus’ sceptical description of magic—Celsus suggests a connection between magic and occult virtues in nature—Celsus on magicians and demons—Origen ascribes magic to demons—Magic is an elaborate art—The Magi of Scripture were not different from other magicians—Origen’s Biblical commentaries—Balaam and the power of words—Limitations to the power of Pharaoh’s magicians—Was Balaam a prophet of God or a magician?—Balaam’s magic experiments—Limitations to his magic power—Divine prophecy distinct from magic and divination—The ventriloquist really invoked Samuel for Saul—Christians less affected by magic than philosophers are—Their superstitious methods against magic—Incantations—The power of words—Origen admits a connection between the power of words and magic—Jewish and Christian employment of powerful names is really magic—Celsus’ theory of demons—Origen calls demons wicked—But believes in presiding angels—A law of spiritual gravitation—Attitude of Celsus toward astrology—Attitude of Origen toward astrology—Further discussion in his Commentary on Genesis—Problems of the waters above the firmament and of one or more heavens—Augury, dreams, and prophecy—Animals and gems—Origen later accused of countenancing magic.

Celsus' accusations of magic against Christianity—Hebrew magic as described by Celsus—Various accusations of magic—Origen's distinction between miracles and magic—Origen absolves both Jews and Christians from the accusation of magic—Celsus' skeptical view of magic—Celsus suggests a link between magic and hidden powers in nature—Celsus on magicians and demons—Origen attributes magic to demons—Magic is a complex art—The Magi in the Scriptures were no different from other magicians—Origen's Biblical commentaries—Balaam and the significance of words—Limits to the power of Pharaoh’s magicians—Was Balaam a prophet of God or a magician?—Balaam's magical practices—Limits to his magical power—Divine prophecy is different from magic and divination—The ventriloquist actually summoned Samuel for Saul—Christians are less influenced by magic than philosophers—Their superstitious methods against magic—Incantations—The power of words—Origen acknowledges a connection between the power of words and magic—The Jewish and Christian use of powerful names is essentially magic—Celsus' theory of demons—Origen labels demons as evil—But he believes in guardian angels—A principle of spiritual attraction—Celsus' view on astrology—Origen's perspective on astrology—Further discussion in his Commentary on Genesis—Issues regarding the waters above the firmament and the existence of one or more heavens—Augury, dreams, and prophecy—Animals and gemstones—Origen was later accused of endorsing magic.

Celsus’ charges of magic against Christianity.

In the celebrated work of Origen Against Celsus,[1873] written in the first half of the third century, the subject of magic is often touched upon, largely because Celsus in his True Discourse had so frequently brought charges of magic against Jesus, His Christian followers, and the Jewish people from whom they had sprung. Celsus had called Jesus[Pg 437] “a wicked and God-hated sorcerer”;[1874] had contended that His miracles were wrought by magic, not by divine power;[1875] and had compared them unfavorably, as less wonderful, to the tricks performed by jugglers and Egyptians in the middle of market-places.[1876] It was the opinion of Celsus that Jesus in warning His disciples that “there shall arise false Christs and false prophets, and shall show great signs and wonders,” had tacitly convicted Himself of the same magical practices.[1877] Celsus, for his part, warned the Christians that they “must shun all deceivers and jugglers who will introduce you to phantoms”;[1878] he accused them of employing incantations and the names of certain demons;[1879] he asserted that he had seen in the hands of Christian presbyters “barbarous books containing the names and marvelous operations of demons,” and that these presbyters “professed to do no good, but all that was calculated to injure human beings.”[1880]

In the well-known work of Origen Against Celsus,[1873] written in the early third century, the topic of magic comes up frequently, mainly because Celsus in his True Discourse often accused Jesus, His Christian followers, and the Jewish people from whom they originated of practicing magic. Celsus described Jesus as “a wicked and God-hated sorcerer”;[1874] he argued that His miracles were performed through magic, not divine power;[1875] and he compared them unfavorably to the tricks done by jugglers and Egyptians in the middle of marketplaces.[1876] Celsus believed that by warning His disciples that “there shall arise false Christs and false prophets, and shall show great signs and wonders,” Jesus had implicitly admitted to the same magical practices.[1877] Celsus also cautioned Christians to “shun all deceivers and jugglers who will introduce you to phantoms”;[1878] he accused them of using incantations and the names of certain demons;[1879] he claimed that he had seen Christian presbyters with “barbarous books containing the names and marvelous operations of demons,” and that these presbyters “professed to do no good, but all that was calculated to injure human beings.”[1880]

Hebrew magic as depicted by Celsus

Celsus regarded Moses equally with Jesus as a wizard,[1881] and he evidently, like Juvenal and other classical writers, considered the Jews and Syrians as a race of charlatans, especially given to superstition, sorcery, incantations, ambiguous oracles and conjuration of spirits. “They worship angels,” he declared, “and are addicted to sorcery, in which Moses was their instructor.”[1882] He stated that the Jews traced back their origin to “the first generation of lying wizards,” by which phrase Origen thinks he referred to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, whose names Origen admits are much employed in the magic arts.[1883] Celsus further characterized the Jews as “blinded by some crooked sorcery, or dreaming dreams through the influence of shadowy specters,”[1884] and as “induced to bow down to the angels in heaven by the incantations employed by jugglery and[Pg 438] sorcery, in consequence of which certain phantoms appear in obedience to the spells employed by the magicians.”[1885] Celsus, also, in describing the many self-styled prophets, Redeemers, and Sons of God in the Phoenicia and Palestine of his own time, states that they make use of “strange, fanatical, and quite unintelligible words, of which no rational person can find any meaning,”[1886] and that those prophets whom he himself had heard had afterwards confessed to him that these words “really meant nothing.”[1887] Yet even the Christians—Celsus complains—who condemn all other oracles, regard as marvelous and accept unquestioningly “those sayings which were uttered or were not uttered in Judea after the manner of that country, as indeed they are still delivered among the peoples of Phoenicia and Palestine.”[1888]

Celsus viewed Moses on par with Jesus as a magician,[1881] and he clearly, like Juvenal and other classical authors, saw the Jews and Syrians as a group of frauds, particularly prone to superstition, sorcery, spells, ambiguous prophecies, and summoning spirits. “They worship angels,” he declared, “and are into sorcery, where Moses was their teacher.”[1882] He claimed that the Jews traced their roots back to “the first generation of lying wizards,” a phrase that Origen believes referred to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, whose names Origen acknowledges are often associated with magic.[1883] Celsus further described the Jews as “blinded by some twisted sorcery, or having dreams influenced by shadowy apparitions,”[1884] and as “driven to worship the angels in heaven by the incantations used by tricksters and[Pg 438] sorcery, causing certain phantoms to appear in response to the spells cast by the magicians.”[1885] Celsus, while detailing the many self-proclaimed prophets, Redeemers, and Sons of God in Phoenicia and Palestine during his time, remarked that they used “strange, fanatical, and completely nonsensical words, which no sensible person could decipher,”[1886] and that those prophets he had heard later admitted to him that these words “actually meant nothing.”[1887] Yet even the Christians—Celsus complains—who reject all other oracles, view as remarkable and uncritically accept “those sayings that were spoken or not spoken in Judea in the way of that region, just as they continue to be expressed among the people of Phoenicia and Palestine.”[1888]

Various recriminations of magic.

To these accusations of Celsus Origen himself adds that the Jews affirm that Jesus passed Himself off as Christ by means of sorcery,[1889] while the Egyptians charge Moses and the Hebrews with the practice of sorcery during their stay in Egypt.[1890] Origen, on the other hand, speaks of “the magical arts and rites of the Egyptians” and holds that it was by divine aid and not by superior magic that Moses prevailed over Pharaoh’s magicians.[1891] Celsus for his part had accused Jesus during His residence in Egypt of “having there acquired some miraculous powers, on which the Egyptians greatly pride themselves.”[1892]

To these accusations, Origen adds that the Jews claim Jesus pretended to be the Christ through sorcery, while the Egyptians accuse Moses and the Hebrews of practicing sorcery while they were in Egypt. Origen, however, refers to "the magical arts and rites of the Egyptians" and argues that Moses succeeded against Pharaoh’s magicians through divine help, not superior magic. Celsus, on his part, accused Jesus of having "acquired some miraculous powers" during His time in Egypt, which the Egyptians take great pride in.

Origen’s distinction between miracles and magic.

Origen repudiates the charges of magic made against Christ and His followers as slanders. He asserts that Christianity on the contrary strictly forbids the practice of magic arts,[1893] and that these lost much of their force at the birth of Christ.[1894] He contends that no magician would teach such noble doctrines as those of Christianity.[1895] Origen goes so far as to deny that even the “false Christs and false[Pg 439] prophets,” who “shall show great signs and wonders,” will be sorcerers, and he states that no sorcerer has ever claimed to be Christ[1896]—an amazing assertion in view of his own allusions to Simon Magus. Works of magic and miracles, Origen affirms, are no more alike than are a wolf and a dog or a wood-pigeon and a dove. They are, however, so closely related that if one admits the reality of magic he must also believe in divine miracles, just as the existence of sophistry proves that there is such a thing as sound argument and an art of dialectic.[1897] Moreover, in one passage Origen admits that “there would indeed be a resemblance” between miracles and magic, “if Jesus, like the dealers in magic arts, had performed His works only for show; but now there is not a single juggler who, by means of his proceedings, invites his spectators to reform their manners, or trains those to the fear of God who are amazed at what they see, nor who tries to persuade them so to live as men who are to be justified by God.”[1898] On the contrary, Origen asserts that the magicians’ “own lives are full of the grossest and most notorious sins.”

Origen rejects the accusations of magic against Christ and His followers as false claims. He emphasizes that Christianity, in fact, strictly prohibits the practice of magic arts,[1893] and that these lost much of their power at the birth of Christ.[1894] He argues that no magician would teach such noble doctrines as those of Christianity.[1895] Origen even goes as far as to say that the “false Christs and false[Pg 439] prophets,” who “shall show great signs and wonders,” will not be sorcerers, and he points out that no sorcerer has ever claimed to be Christ[1896]—an astonishing claim considering his own references to Simon Magus. Origen asserts that works of magic and miracles are as different as a wolf and a dog or a wood-pigeon and a dove. However, they are so closely related that if one accepts the reality of magic, one must also believe in divine miracles, just as the existence of sophistry proves that sound argument and dialectic art exist.[1897] Furthermore, in one passage, Origen admits that “there would indeed be a resemblance” between miracles and magic, “if Jesus, like the dealers in magic arts, had performed His works only for show; but now there is not a single juggler who, by means of his proceedings, invites his spectators to reform their manners, or trains those to the fear of God who are amazed at what they see, nor who tries to persuade them so to live as men who are to be justified by God.”[1898] On the contrary, Origen claims that the magicians’ “own lives are full of the grossest and most notorious sins.”

Origen frees Jews as well as Christians from the charge of magic.

Since it is one of Origen’s chief concerns to uphold Hebrew prophecy as a proof of Christ’s divinity, although Celsus subjects the argument from prophecy to ridicule; to defend the Old Testament against Celsus’ attacks as an inspired record of greater antiquity than Greek philosophy, history, and literature, which he asserts have stolen truths from it; and to maintain that “there is no discrepancy between the God of the Gospel and the God of the Law”:[1899]—since this is so, it is incumbent upon him to rebut also the accusations of magic laid by Celsus at the door of the Jews. Origen therefore asserts that the Jews “despised all kinds of divination as that which bewitches men to no purpose,” and cites the prohibition of Leviticus (xix, 31) against wizards and familiar spirits.[1900]

Since one of Origen's main concerns is to support Hebrew prophecy as evidence of Christ's divinity, even though Celsus mocks the argument from prophecy; to defend the Old Testament against Celsus's attacks as an inspired record that predates Greek philosophy, history, and literature, which he claims have borrowed truths from it; and to argue that “there is no difference between the God of the Gospel and the God of the Law”:[1899]—given this, he also needs to counter the allegations of magic that Celsus levels against the Jews. Origen claims that the Jews “disregarded all forms of divination as something that misleads people without any real purpose,” and references the prohibition in Leviticus (xix, 31) against wizards and familiar spirits.[1900]

[Pg 440]

[Pg 440]

Celsus’ sceptical description of magic.

The Reply to Celsus is of especial interest to us because it presents as it were in parallel columns for our inspection the classical and the Christian conceptions of and attitudes towards magic. Before proceeding, therefore, to inquire how far justified Origen seems to be in thus acquitting, or Celsus, on the other hand, in condemning Christians and Jews on the charge of magic, it is essential to note what magic means for either author. Both evidently regard it as a term of reproach and as usually evil in character.[1901] Celsus lists as feats of magic the expelling of demons and diseases from men, or the sudden production of tables, dishes, and food as for an expensive banquet, or of animals who move about as if alive. Celsus, however, seems to speak with a sneer of “their most venerated arts” and describes the banquet dishes as “dainties having no real existence” and the animals as “not really living but having only the appearance of life.” Therefore the ensuing comment of Origen seems unusually stupid or unfair, when he tries to convict Celsus of inconsistency on the ground that “by these expressions he allows as it were the existence of magic,” whereas Origen hints that it was he “who wrote several books against it.” “These expressions” are, on the contrary, precisely those which a man who had attacked magic as deceptive would use. Celsus further stated that an Egyptian named Dionysius had told him that magic arts had power “only over the uneducated and men of corrupt morals,” but had no effect upon philosophers, “because they were careful to observe a healthy manner of life.”[1902] Celsus himself observed that “those who in market-places perform most disreputable tricks and collect crowds around them ... would never approach an assembly of wise men.”[1903] It was at the request of a Celsus, moreover, that the second century satirist Lucian wrote his Alexander or Pseudomantis[1904] in which some of the tricks of a magician-impostor and oracle-monger are exposed, and in which allusion is[Pg 441] made to the “excellent treatises against the magicians” written by Celsus himself. It seems reasonably certain that the Celsus of Lucian and the Celsus of Origen are identical, as there are no chronological difficulties and the same point of view is ascribed in either case to Celsus, whom both Lucian and Origen regard as an Epicurean or at least in sympathy with the Epicureans. Galen, in a treatise in which he lists his own writings, mentions an “Epistle to Celsus the Epicurean.”[1905] This, too, might be the same man.

The Reply to Celsus is particularly interesting to us because it presents side by side the classical and Christian views on magic for our analysis. Before looking into how justified Origen seems in defending Christians and Jews against Celsus’s accusations of magic, it’s important to understand what magic means to each author. Both clearly see it as a negative term and generally evil in nature.[1901] Celsus lists acts of magic as driving out demons and illnesses from people, suddenly creating tables, dishes, and food for lavish banquets, or producing animals that appear to be alive. However, Celsus seems to mock "their most revered arts," calling the banquet dishes “delicacies that have no real existence” and describing the animals as “not truly living but merely giving the appearance of life.” Therefore, Origen’s subsequent comment appears particularly foolish or unjust when he tries to accuse Celsus of inconsistency by claiming that “with these expressions he suggests the existence of magic,” even though Origen implies that he “wrote several books against it.” “These expressions” are actually exactly what someone who criticizes magic as misleading would say. Celsus also mentioned that an Egyptian named Dionysius said that magical arts only have power over the uneducated and immoral people, but do not affect philosophers, “because they are diligent about maintaining a healthy lifestyle.”[1902] Celsus himself noted that “those who perform the most disreputable tricks in the marketplaces and attract crowds… would never approach a gathering of wise individuals.”[1903] It was at Celsus’s request that the second-century satirist Lucian wrote his Alexander or Pseudomantis[1904] where some of the tricks of a magician-fraudster and oracle-seller are revealed, and references are made to the “excellent treatises against magicians” written by Celsus himself. It seems quite likely that the Celsus in Lucian's work and the Celsus in Origen's are the same person, as there are no chronological issues, and both Lucian and Origen attribute the same viewpoint to Celsus, whom they both see as an Epicurean or at least sympathetic to Epicurean ideas. Galen, in a work where he lists his own writings, mentions an “Epistle to Celsus the Epicurean.”[1905] This could also refer to the same individual.

Celsus suggests a connection between magic and occult virtues in nature.

Another passage in which Celsus, according to Origen at least, “mixed up together matters which belong to magic and sorcery” runs as follows: “What need to number up all those who have taught methods of purification, or expiatory hymns, or spells for averting evil, or images, or resemblances of demons, or the various sorts of antidotes against poison in clothing, or in numbers, or stones, or plants, or roots, or generally in all kinds of things?”[1906] In another passage Celsus again closely connected sorcery with the knowledge of occult virtues in nature, arguing that men need not pride themselves upon their power of sorcery when serpents and eagles know of antidotes to poisons and amulets and the virtues of certain stones which help to preserve their young.[1907] Origen objects that it is not customary to use the word sorcery (γοητεία) for such things, and suggests that Celsus is such an “Epicurean,” i. e., so sceptical, that he wishes to discredit all those other beliefs and practices “as resting only on the professions of sorcerers.” But we have already had proof enough in other chapters that Celsus was not unjustified in connecting the occult virtue of natural objects with magic, if not with sorcery.

Another passage where Celsus, at least according to Origen, “mixed together matters related to magic and sorcery” goes like this: “What’s the point in listing all those who have taught ways of purification, or expiatory hymns, or spells to ward off evil, or images, or likenesses of demons, or the different types of antidotes against poison found in clothing, in numbers, in stones, in plants, in roots, or generally in all sorts of things?”[1906] In another section, Celsus again closely links sorcery with the understanding of hidden powers in nature, arguing that people shouldn’t feel proud of their sorcery skills when snakes and eagles are aware of antidotes to poisons and know about amulets and the properties of certain stones that help protect their young.[1907] Origen argues that it's not typical to call such things sorcery (γοητεία) and suggests that Celsus is such an “Epicurean,” meaning so skeptical, that he wants to discredit all those other beliefs and practices “as based only on the claims of sorcerers.” But we've already seen enough evidence in other chapters to support that Celsus was justified in linking the hidden powers of natural objects with magic, if not with sorcery.

Celsus on magicians and demons.

Celsus, as we shall see, believed in the existence of demons whom, however, he did not regard as necessarily evil spirits, and whom he probably regarded as above any connection with magic. Origen once says that if Celsus[Pg 442] “had been acquainted with the nature of demons” and their operations in the magic arts, he would not have blamed Christians for not worshiping them.[1908] The natural inference from this statement is that Celsus did not associate demons with magic. Origen, however, depicts him as “speaking of those who employ the arts of magic and sorcery and who invoke the barbarous names of demons,”[1909] and we have already heard him censure certain Christian presbyters for their “barbarous books containing the names and marvelous doings of demons.”[1910] It therefore becomes evident that magicians attempt to avail themselves of the aid of demons, whether Celsus believes that they succeed in their attempt or not.

Celsus, as we will see, believed in the existence of demons, but he didn't necessarily see them as evil spirits, and he probably thought they were not connected to magic at all. Origen once stated that if Celsus[Pg 442] “had understood the nature of demons” and their role in magic, he wouldn’t have criticized Christians for not worshiping them. The natural inference from this is that Celsus didn’t connect demons with magic. However, Origen describes him as “talking about those who use the arts of magic and sorcery and who call upon the strange names of demons,”[1909] and we've already heard him criticize some Christian presbyters for their “strange books containing the names and amazing deeds of demons.”[1910] It therefore becomes clear that magicians try to use the help of demons, regardless of whether Celsus thinks they are successful in doing so.

Origen ascribes magic to demons.

Origen at any rate believes that magicians are aided by evil spirits, and for him demons became the paramount factor in magic, just as it is they who are worshiped in pagan temples as gods and who inspire the pagan oracles.[1911] Indeed, just as Celsus has kept calling the Christians sorcerers, so Origen is inclined to label all heathen religions, rites, and ceremonies as magic. He quotes the Psalmist as saying that “all the gods of the heathen are demons.”[1912] He states that the dedication of pagan temples, statues, and the like are accompanied by “curious magical incantations ... performed by those who zealously serve the demons with magic arts.”[1913] Divination in general, he believes, “proceeds rather from wicked demons than from anything of a better nature.”[1914] He does not think of magic as a deception, he does not endeavor to expose its frauds, he accepts its marvels as facts, but declares that “magic and sorcery are produced by wicked spirits, held spellbound by elaborate incantations and yielding themselves to sorcerers.”[1915] Origen seems in doubt whether the demons are coerced by the spells and charms of magic or yield themselves willingly.[1916]

Origen believes that magicians are helped by evil spirits, and for him, demons are the main element in magic, just as they are the ones worshiped in pagan temples as gods and who inspire pagan oracles.[1911] Indeed, just as Celsus keeps calling Christians sorcerers, Origen tends to label all heathen religions, rites, and ceremonies as magic. He quotes the Psalmist as saying that “all the gods of the heathen are demons.”[1912] He states that the dedication of pagan temples, statues, and similar things are accompanied by “curious magical incantations... performed by those who zealously serve the demons with magic arts.”[1913] In general, he believes that divination “comes more from wicked demons than from anything of a better nature.”[1914] He does not see magic as a deception; he does not try to expose its frauds, he accepts its wonders as facts, but declares that “magic and sorcery are produced by wicked spirits, held spellbound by elaborate incantations and yielding themselves to sorcerers.”[1915] Origen seems uncertain whether the demons are forced by the spells and charms of magic or consent willingly.[1916]

[Pg 443]

[Pg 443]

Magic is an elaborate art.

As we shall see, Origen is at least ready to attribute great power to incantations, and he does not deny that magic is an elaborate art. With such various arts of magic he contrasts the simplicity of Christian prayers and adjurations “which the plainest person can use,” or the Christian casting out of demons which is performed for the most part by “unlettered persons.”[1917] Origen also suggests that the natural properties of plants and animals are a factor in magic, when he cites Numenius the Pythagorean’s description of the Egyptian deity Serapis. “He partakes of the essence of all the animals and plants that are under the control of nature, that he may appear to have been fashioned into a god, not only by the image-makers with the aid of profane mysteries and juggling tricks employed to invoke demons, but also by magicians and sorcerers (μάγων καὶ φαρμακῶν) and those demons who are bewitched by their incantations.”[1918] Another passage pointing in the same direction is Origen’s description of “the man who is curiously inquisitive about the names of demons, their powers and agency, the incantations, the herbs proper to them, and the stones with the inscriptions graven on them, corresponding symbolically or otherwise to their traditional shapes.”[1919] Thus although Origen lays the emphasis upon demons, we see that he admits most of the other customary elements in magic.

As we will see, Origen is at least willing to acknowledge the significant power of incantations, and he doesn’t deny that magic is a complex art. He contrasts these various magical practices with the simplicity of Christian prayers and exorcisms "which anyone can use," or the Christian casting out of demons, which is mostly done by "uneducated people."[1917] Origen also implies that the natural qualities of plants and animals play a role in magic when he references Numenius the Pythagorean's description of the Egyptian god Serapis. "He encompasses the essence of all the animals and plants governed by nature, so he seems to have been made into a god, not only by sculptors using common mysteries and tricks to call upon demons, but also by magicians and sorcerers (μάγων καὶ φαρμακῶν) and those demons enchanted by their incantations."[1918] Another relevant passage is Origen's depiction of "the person who is overly curious about the names of demons, their powers and actions, the incantations, the appropriate herbs, and the stones engraved with inscriptions that symbolically or otherwise correspond to their traditional forms."[1919] Thus, even though Origen focuses on demons, we see that he acknowledges most of the other traditional elements of magic.

The Magi of Scripture were not different from other magicians.

Origen does not, like Philo Judaeus, Apuleius and some Christian writers, distinguish two uses of the word magic, one good and one evil. He does not differentiate between vulgar magic and malignant sorcery on the one hand and the lore of learned Magi of the east on the other hand. He[Pg 444] simply says that the art of magic gets its name from the Magi and that from them its evil influence has been transmitted to other nations.[1920] Celsus had ranked the Magi among divinely inspired nations but Origen objects to this. Yet he recognizes that the wise men of the east who followed the star of Bethlehem and came to worship the infant Christ were Magi.[1921] But he seems to regard them as ordinary magicians, who were accustomed to invoke evil spirits.[1922] He thinks that the coming of Christ dispelled the demons and hindered the Magi’s spells and charms from working as usual. Trying to find the reason for this, they would note the new star in the sky. Origen will not admit that they could do all this by means of astrology, nor even that they were astrologers at all; he accuses Celsus of blundering in calling them Chaldeans or astrologers.[1923] Rather he thinks that they could find an explanation of the star in the prophecies of Balaam[1924] which they possessed and which predicted, as Moses too records,[1925] “There shall arise a star out of Jacob, and a man (or, as in the King James’ version, a scepter) shall rise up out of Israel.”[1926] In another treatise than the Reply to Celsus Origen further explains that the Magi were descended from Balaam and so owned his written prophecies.[1927] Balaam was perhaps alluding to these very Magi descended from him who came to adore Jesus when he prophesied that his seed should[Pg 445] be as the seed of the just.[1928] Origen seems to have been the first of the church fathers to state the number of these Magi as three, which he does in one of his homilies on the Book of Genesis.[1929]

Origen does not, unlike Philo Judaeus, Apuleius, and some Christian writers, separate the word magic into two categories, one good and one evil. He doesn’t distinguish between ordinary magic and harmful sorcery on one side and the knowledge of the learned Magi from the east on the other. He[Pg 444] simply states that the art of magic gets its name from the Magi and that its negative influence has been passed on to other nations. Celsus had classified the Magi among divinely inspired nations, but Origen disagrees with this. However, he acknowledges that the wise men from the east who followed the star of Bethlehem to worship the infant Christ were indeed Magi. [1921] But he seems to see them as typical magicians who were used to calling upon evil spirits. [1922] He believes that Christ's arrival drove away demons and prevented the Magi’s spells and charms from working as they usually did. In trying to understand the reason for this, they would notice the new star in the sky. Origen refuses to accept that they could have figured this out through astrology, nor does he even consider them astrologers; he accuses Celsus of making a mistake in referring to them as Chaldeans or astrologers. [1923] Instead, he believes they could find an explanation for the star in the prophecies of Balaam [1924] that they had, which foretold, as Moses also records, [1925] “There shall arise a star out of Jacob, and a man (or, in the King James version, a scepter) shall rise up out of Israel.” [1926] In another work besides the Reply to Celsus, Origen further clarifies that the Magi were descendants of Balaam and therefore had access to his written prophecies. [1927] Balaam might have been referring to these very Magi, who came to worship Jesus when he prophesied that his offspring would be as numerous as the righteous. [1928] Origen appears to be the first of the Church Fathers to specify that there were three Magi, which he mentions in one of his homilies on the Book of Genesis. [1929]

Origen’s Biblical commentaries.

At this point indeed, we may well turn for a little while from the Reply to Celsus to those Biblical commentaries of Origen where he discusses such Old Testament passages connected with magic as the stories of Balaam and of the witch of Endor or ventriloquist. The commentary of Origen upon the Book of Numbers is extant only in the Latin translation by Rufinus, who literally snatched it for posterity as a brand from the burning, for he did not refrain from this learned and literary labor, although as he plied his pen in Messina in 410 A. D. he could see the invading barbarians ravaging the fields and burning Reggio just across the narrow strait which separates Sicily from Italy.[1930]

At this point, we can take a moment to shift our focus from the Reply to Celsus to the Biblical commentaries by Origen, where he examines Old Testament passages related to magic, like the stories of Balaam and the witch of Endor. Origen's commentary on the Book of Numbers survives only in the Latin translation by Rufinus, who literally rescued it from destruction, as he didn’t hesitate to undertake this scholarly and literary work, even though while he was writing in Messina in 410 A.D., he could see the invading barbarians destroying the fields and burning Reggio just across the narrow strait that separates Sicily from Italy.[1930]

Balaam and the power of words.

In commencing to speak of Balaam and his ass[1931] Origen implies that much has already been written on this thorny theme and that he approaches it with considerable diffidence. He prays God again and again for grace to be able to explain it, not by means of fabulous Jewish narrations—by which expression he perhaps alludes to commentaries of the rabbis such as have reached us in the Talmud—but in a sense that shall be reasonable and worthy of the divine law. To begin with he admits the power of words, and not merely that of holy words or words of God, but of certain words used by men. That such words are in some respects more powerful than bodies is shown by the fact that Balaam’s cursing could accomplish what armies and weapons could not effect. This calls to mind one of the Mohammedan tales concerning Balaam to the effect that by reading the books of Abraham he learned “the name[Pg 446] Yahweh by virtue of which he predicted the future, and got from God whatever he wished.”[1932]

In starting to talk about Balaam and his donkey, Origen suggests that a lot has already been said on this difficult topic and that he approaches it with great hesitation. He repeatedly asks God for the grace to explain it, not through elaborate Jewish stories—which he might be referring to rabbinical commentaries found in the Talmud—but in a way that is reasonable and aligned with divine law. First, he acknowledges the power of words, not just holy ones or words from God, but certain words spoken by people. The fact that Balaam's curses could achieve what armies and weapons could not demonstrates that in some ways, words are more powerful than physical things. This reminds us of one of the Islamic stories about Balaam, which says that by reading the books of Abraham, he learned “the name Yahweh, through which he predicted the future and got whatever he wanted from God.”

Limitations to the power of Pharaoh’s magicians.

The magicians of Egypt, too, who withstood Moses and Aaron before Pharaoh, were able to turn rods into snakes and water into blood, feats which no man could accomplish by mere bodily strength. Indeed, because the king of Egypt knew that his magicians could do such things by a human art of words, he thought, at first at least, that Moses too was doing the same things not by the help of God but by the magic art. There was, however, a very serious limitation to the magicians’ power. By the aid of demons they could turn good into evil but they could not repair the damage which they had done or restore the evil to good. The rod of Moses, on the other hand, not only devoured theirs but turned back from a snake into its original form,[1933] and it was necessary for Moses to pray to God in order to stay the other plagues.

The magicians of Egypt, who challenged Moses and Aaron before Pharaoh, were able to turn staffs into snakes and water into blood, things no one could do with just physical strength. In fact, because the king of Egypt knew that his magicians could perform such acts through human tricks, he initially thought that Moses was doing the same thing, not with God's help but through magic. However, there was a major limitation to the magicians’ abilities. With the help of demons, they could transform good into evil, but they couldn't fix the harm they had caused or turn the evil back into good. Moses' staff, on the other hand, not only consumed theirs but also returned from a snake to its original form, [1933] and Moses needed to pray to God to stop the other plagues.

Was Balaam a prophet of God or a magician?

Origen classifies Balaam as a magician, not as a prophet. This seems to have been the prevalent patristic and medieval view, although the Biblical account in Numbers represents Balaam as in close and constant communication with God and the Second Epistle of Peter[1934] calls him a prophet although it condemns his temporary madness in seeking “the wages of unrighteousness.” Josephus too calls him the best prophet of his time but one who yielded to temptation.[1935] A fifteenth century treatise on the translation of the relics of the three kings to Cologne tells us that “concerning this Balaam there is an altercation in the east between the Christians and the Jews”; the Jews holding that he was no prophet but a diviner who predicted by magic and diabolical arts, the Christians asserting that he was the first prophet of the Gentiles.[1936] The problem continued to[Pg 447] exercise the ingenuity of Lutherans and theologians of the Reformed Churches, and in 1842 was the main theme of a treatise of 290 pages in which Hebrew words and quotations from Calvin abound.[1937]

Origen classifies Balaam as a magician, not a prophet. This seems to have been the common view among early church fathers and in the medieval period, even though the Biblical account in Numbers shows Balaam in close and continual communication with God. The Second Epistle of Peter calls him a prophet, although it criticizes his short-lived madness in seeking "the wages of unrighteousness." Josephus also describes him as the greatest prophet of his time, but one who gave in to temptation. A 15th-century treatise about the translation of the relics of the three kings to Cologne states that "there is a dispute in the East regarding this Balaam between Christians and Jews"; the Jews claim he was not a prophet but a diviner who used magic and diabolical arts, while Christians argue that he was the first prophet of the Gentiles. This issue continued to challenge the thinking of Lutherans and theologians from the Reformed Churches, and in 1842, it was the main topic of a 290-page treatise filled with Hebrew words and quotations from Calvin.

Balaam’s magic experiments.

Origen remarks that magicians differ in the amount of power they possess. Balaam was a very famous and expert one, known throughout the whole orient. He had given many experimental proofs (experimenta) of his skill and Balak had frequently employed him. The translator Rufinus’s repeated use of the words experimenta and expertus here is an interesting indication of the close connection between magic and experiment.[1938]

Origen notes that magicians vary in their level of power. Balaam was quite famous and skilled, known throughout the entire East. He had demonstrated his abilities many times, and Balak had often hired him. The translator Rufinus's repeated use of the terms experimenta and expertus highlights the strong link between magic and experimentation.[1938]

Limitation to his magic power.

Great, however, as was Balaam’s fame and power, he could only curse and not bless, an indication that he operated by the agency of demons who also only work evil and not good. It is true that King Balak said to him: “I know that whom you bless will be blessed,” but Origen regards this as false flattery. Magicians employ the services of evil spirits, but cannot invoke such angels as Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel, much less God or Christ. Christians alone have the power to do this, and they must cease entirely from the invocation of demons or the Holy Spirit will flee from them.

Great as Balaam’s fame and power were, he could only curse and not bless, which shows he was influenced by demons who only do evil, not good. It’s true that King Balak told him, “I know that whoever you bless will be blessed,” but Origen sees this as empty flattery. Magicians use the help of evil spirits, but they can’t call on angels like Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel, let alone God or Christ. Only Christians have the power to do this, and they need to completely stop invoking demons, or the Holy Spirit will leave them.

Divine prophecy distinct from magic and divination.

It is true also that God in the end did speak through the mouth of Balaam and that he blessed instead of cursed Israel. Origen will not admit, however, that Balaam was worthy of this, or that a man can be both a magician and a prophet; if God spake through Balaam, it was only to prevent the demons from coming and helping Balaam to curse Israel. Origen also attempts to solve the difficulties[Pg 448] and inconsistencies involved in the repeated appearances and conflicting commands of God and the angel to Balaam. Finally we may note that Origen sees the similarity between the use of cauldron-shaped tripods in human arts of divination and the donning of the ephod by the prophets described in the Old Testament.[1939] But he affirms that divine prophecy and divination are two different things and cites the Biblical prohibition of the latter.

It is also true that in the end, God spoke through Balaam and blessed Israel instead of cursing it. However, Origen does not accept that Balaam deserved this or that a person can be both a magician and a prophet; if God spoke through Balaam, it was only to stop the demons from helping him curse Israel. Origen also tries to resolve the issues and inconsistencies related to the repeated appearances and conflicting commands from God and the angel to Balaam. Finally, we should note that Origen sees the similarity between the use of cauldron-shaped tripods in human arts of divination and the wearing of the ephod by the prophets described in the Old Testament.[Pg 448] But he insists that divine prophecy and divination are two different things and cites the Biblical prohibition against the latter.

The ventriloquist really invoked Samuel for Saul.

In his commentary upon the First Book of Samuel,[1940] Origen takes the ground that when Saul consulted the witch or ventriloquist (ἐγγαστριμύθος), Samuel’s ghost really appeared and spoke to Saul, for the Scriptural account plainly says that the woman saw Samuel[1941] and that Samuel spoke to Saul. Consequently Origen cannot agree with those who have held that the woman deceived Saul or that both she and he were deluded by a demon who assumed the guise of Samuel. No demon, he thinks, could have prophesied that the kingdom would pass to David. It has been objected that the enchantress could not raise the spirit of Samuel from the infernal regions because he was a good man, but Origen holds that even Christ descended to hell and that all before Him had their abode there until He came to release them. From this position not even the parable of Dives and of Lazarus in Abraham’s bosom with the great gulf fixed between them can shake Origen.

In his commentary on the First Book of Samuel,[1940] Origen argues that when Saul consulted the witch or ventriloquist (ἐγγαστριμύθος), Samuel’s ghost truly appeared and spoke to Saul, since the biblical account clearly states that the woman saw Samuel[1941] and that Samuel communicated with Saul. As a result, Origen disagrees with those who believe that the woman tricked Saul or that both she and Saul were deceived by a demon pretending to be Samuel. He believes that no demon could have accurately prophesied that the kingdom would be given to David. Some have argued that the witch couldn't summon Samuel’s spirit from the underworld because he was a good man, but Origen asserts that even Christ descended to hell and that all who came before Him were there until He arrived to release them. This perspective is not even shaken by the parable of Dives and Lazarus in Abraham’s bosom, with the great chasm fixed between them.

Christians less affected by magic than philosophers are.

Origen disputes the statement of Celsus that philosophers are not affected by the magic arts by pointing out that in Moiragenes’s Life of Apollonius of Tyana, who was himself both a philosopher and magician, it is affirmed that other philosophers were won over by his magic power “and resorted to him as a sorcerer.”[1942] On the other hand Origen makes the counter-assertion that the followers of Christ “who live according to His gospel, using night and day con[Pg 449]tinuously and becomingly the prescribed prayers, are not carried away either by magic or demons.”

Origen challenges Celsus’s claim that philosophers are immune to magical arts by referencing Moiragenes's Life of Apollonius of Tyana, who was both a philosopher and a magician. It states that other philosophers were influenced by his magical abilities “and went to him as a sorcerer.”[1942] Conversely, Origen argues that Christ's followers “who live according to His gospel, consistently and appropriately using the prescribed prayers day and night, are not swayed by magic or demons.”

Their superstitious methods against magic.

If these “prescribed prayers” were set forms of words, they would seem not far removed in character from the incantations of the magicians which they were supposed to counteract. An even clearer example of preventive magic is seen in Origen’s explanation that the practice of circumcision was a safeguard against some angel (sic) hostile to the Jewish race.[1943]

If these "prescribed prayers" were fixed phrases, they would appear quite similar in nature to the incantations of the magicians they were meant to oppose. A clearer example of preventive magic can be found in Origen's explanation that the practice of circumcision was a protection against some angel (sic) that was hostile to the Jewish people.[1943]

Incantations.

If demons are for Origen of primary importance in magic, incantations run a close second, since it is chiefly through them that men are able to utilize the power of the demons. Some of the barbarians, Origen tells us, “are admired for their marvelous powers of incantation.”[1944] And when he mentions the miraculous releases of Peter and Paul and Silas from prison, he adds that if Celsus had read of these events he “would probably say in reply that there are certain sorcerers who are able by incantations to unloose chains and to open doors.”[1945] But Celsus did not say this; we must therefore attribute the thought rather to Origen himself. Speaking elsewhere in his own person Origen more than once informs us that “almost all those who occupy themselves with incantations and magical rites” and “many who conjure evil spirits” employ in their spells and incantations such expressions as “God of Abraham.”[1946] Origen grants that these phrases are used by the Jews themselves in their prayers to God and exorcisms, and that the names of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob possess great efficacy “when united with the word of God.”[1947] Yet he will not acknowledge that the Jews practice magic. He also denies the charge of Celsus that Christians use incantations and the names of[Pg 450] certain demons, although he admits that Christians ward off magic by regular use of prescribed prayers and frequently expel demons by repetition of “the simple name of Jesus, and certain other words in which they repose faith, according to the holy Scriptures,” or “the name of Jesus accompanied by the announcement of the narratives which relate to Him” (presumably a repetition of the names of the four Evangelists).[1948] It is even possible for persons who are not true Christians to make use of the name of Jesus to work wonders just as magicians use the Hebrew names.[1949]

If demons are of primary importance in magic for Origen, incantations are a close second, as they are mainly how people can tap into the power of demons. Some of the barbarians, Origen tells us, “are admired for their amazing powers of incantation.”[1944] And when he talks about the miraculous releases of Peter, Paul, and Silas from prison, he adds that if Celsus had read about these events, he “would probably say in response that there are certain sorcerers who can use incantations to loosen chains and open doors.”[1945] But Celsus didn’t say this; we should therefore credit this thought to Origen himself. Speaking in his own voice elsewhere, Origen informs us more than once that “almost all those who engage in incantations and magical rites” and “many who summon evil spirits” use expressions like “God of Abraham” in their spells and incantations.[1946] Origen acknowledges that these phrases are used by the Jews in their prayers to God and exorcisms, and that the names of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob have great power “when combined with the word of God.”[1947] However, he won’t admit that the Jews practice magic. He also rejects the accusation by Celsus that Christians use incantations and the names of[Pg 450] certain demons, although he admits that Christians protect themselves from magic through regular use of specific prayers and often cast out demons by repeating “the simple name of Jesus, and certain other words in which they have faith, according to the holy Scriptures,” or “the name of Jesus paired with the telling of the stories that relate to Him” (likely a repetition of the names of the four Evangelists).[1948] It’s even possible for people who aren’t true Christians to use the name of Jesus to perform wonders, just like magicians do with Hebrew names.[1949]

The power of words.

Origen, however, does not try to justify these Hebrew and Christian formulae, adjurations, and exorcisms on the ground that they are simply prayers to God, who Himself then performs the cure or miracle without compulsion. Origen believes that there is power in the words themselves, as we have already heard him state in speaking of Balaam. This is seen from the fact that when translated into another language they lose their operative force, as those who are skilled in the use of incantations have noted.[1950] Thus not what is signified by the words, but the qualities and peculiarities of the words themselves, are potent for this or that effect. It seems strange that Origen should thus cite enchanters, when in the sentence just preceding he had spoken of “our Jesus, whose name has been manifestly seen to have driven out demons from souls and bodies....” Was the divine name alone and not God the cause of the miracle? It may be added, however, that Origen denied that languages were of human origin.[1951] But he has already gone far along this line and in the previous chapter has stated that “the nature of powerful names” is a “deep and mysterious subject.”[1952] Some such names, he goes on to say, “are used by the learned amongst the Egyptians, or by the Magi among the Persians, and by the Indian philosophers called Brahmans.”

Origen, however, doesn’t attempt to explain these Hebrew and Christian formulas, invocations, and exorcisms by claiming they are just prayers to God, who then performs the healing or miracle without any pressure. Origen believes the words themselves hold power, as we've already heard him mention when discussing Balaam. This is evident from the fact that when translated into another language, they lose their effectiveness, as those experienced in using incantations have pointed out. Thus, it's not just what the words mean, but the specific qualities and characteristics of the words themselves that are powerful for this or that effect. It seems odd that Origen would mention enchanters, considering just before he talked about “our Jesus, whose name has clearly shown itself to drive out demons from souls and bodies...”. Was it just the divine name, and not God Himself, that caused the miracle? However, it can be noted that Origen denied that languages originated from humans. But he has already traveled far down this path and stated in the previous chapter that “the nature of powerful names” is a “deep and mysterious subject.” He continues by mentioning that “some such names are used by the learned among the Egyptians, or by the Magi among the Persians, and by the Indian philosophers called Brahmans.”

[Pg 451]

[Pg 451]

Origen admits a connection between the power of words and magic.

Later on in the work, in a passage which we have already cited, Origen waxed indignant with Celsus for speaking favorably of the Magi, inventors of the destructive magic art. But now he speaks almost in a tone of respect of magic, stating that if “the so-called magic also is not, as followers of Epicurus” (i. e., men like Celsus whom Origen accuses of being an Epicurean) “and Aristotle think, an entirely chaotic affair but, as those skilled in such matters show, a connected system comprising words known to very few persons,” then such names as Adonai and Sabaoth “pertain to some mystic theology,” and, “when pronounced with that attendant train of circumstances which is appropriate to their nature, are possessed of great power.”

Later in the text, in a section we've already quoted, Origen became upset with Celsus for praising the Magi, who are the creators of harmful magic. However, now he speaks almost respectfully about magic, suggesting that if “the so-called magic is not, as the Epicureans believe” (referring to people like Celsus whom Origen accuses of being an Epicurean) “and Aristotle thinks, a completely disordered phenomenon but, as experts in the field demonstrate, a coherent system made up of terms known to very few,” then names like Adonai and Sabaoth “belong to some secret theology,” and, “when said with the proper context that aligns with their nature, have significant power.”

Jewish and Christian employment of powerful names is really magic.

These last clauses make it clear that Jews and Christians were guilty both of incantations and magic, however much Origen may protest to the contrary. It can hardly be argued that Origen means to distinguish this “so-called magic” from the magic art which he condemns in other passages, for not only is it evident that the followers of Epicurus and Aristotle make no such distinction, but Origen himself in other passages ascribes the employment of such Hebrew names to ordinary magicians and declares that such invocations of God are “found in treatises on magic in many countries.”[1953] Origen also states in his Commentary upon Matthew[1954] that the Jews are regarded as adepts in adjuration of demons and that they employ adjurations in the Hebrew language drawn from the books of Solomon. Moreover, he continues in the present passage, “And other names, again, current in the Egyptian tongue, are efficacious against certain demons who can only do certain things; and others in the Persian language have corresponding power over other spirits; and so on in every different nation, for different purposes.” “ ... And when one is able to philosophize about the mystery of names, he will find much to say respecting the titles of the angels of God, of whom one is[Pg 452] called Michael, and another Gabriel, and another Raphael, appropriately to the duties which they discharge in the world. And a similar philosophy of names applies also to our Jesus.” Between such mystic theology and philosophy of names, the Gnostic diagram of the Ophites,[1955] and the downright incantations of the magicians, there is surely little to choose.

These last clauses make it clear that Jews and Christians were involved in incantations and magic, no matter how much Origen may deny it. It’s hard to argue that Origen intends to differentiate this “so-called magic” from the magical practices he condemns in other parts of his work, as it's clear that the followers of Epicurus and Aristotle don’t make such a distinction. Furthermore, Origen himself in other passages attributes the use of these Hebrew names to ordinary magicians and states that these invocations of God are “found in treatises on magic in many countries.”[1953] Origen also claims in his Commentary upon Matthew[1954] that Jews are seen as experts in calling upon demons and that they use adjurations in Hebrew taken from the books of Solomon. Additionally, he goes on in the current passage, “And other names, again, used in the Egyptian language, are effective against certain demons who can only do certain things; and others in the Persian language have similar power over other spirits; and this is true in every different nation, for different purposes.” “... And when one can reflect on the mystery of names, there’s a lot to say about the titles of God’s angels, one of whom is called Michael, another Gabriel, and another Raphael, each corresponding appropriately to the roles they perform in the world. A similar philosophy of names also applies to our Jesus.” Between such mystical theology and the philosophy of names, the Gnostic diagram of the Ophites,[1955] and the outright spells of the magicians, there is surely little difference.

Celsus’ theory of demons.

From the names of God and angels, by uttering which such wonders may be performed, we turn to the spirits themselves. Celsus seems to think of demons as spiritual beings who act as intermediaries between the supreme Deity and the world of nature and human society. He believes that “in all probability the various quarters of the earth were from the beginning allotted to different superintending spirits.”[1956] He warns the Christians that it is absurd for them to think that they can escape the demons by simply refusing to eat the meat that has been offered to idols; the demons are everywhere in nature, and one cannot eat bread or drink wine or taste fruit or breathe the very air without receiving these gifts of nature from the demons to whom the various provinces of nature have been assigned.[1957] The Egyptians teach that even the most insignificant objects are committed to demon care, and they divide the human body into thirty-six parts, each in charge of a demon of the air who should be invoked in order to cure an ailment of that particular part.[1958] Celsus mentions some of the names of these thirty-six demons: Chnoumen, Chnachoumen, Cnat, Sicat, Biou, Erou, and others. Celsus, however, does not accept this Egyptian doctrine without qualification. He suspects, Origen tells us, that it leads toward magic, and hence adds “the opinion of those wise men who say that most of the earth-demons are taken up with carnal indulgence, blood, odors, sweet sounds and other such sensual things; and therefore they are unable to do more than heal the body, or foretell the fortunes of men and cities, and do other such[Pg 453] things as relate to this mortal life.”[1959] Celsus himself, however, seems as unwilling to accept this Egyptian view as he is to condone magic, and concludes that “the more just opinion is that the demons desire nothing and need nothing, but that they take pleasure in those who discharge toward them offices of piety.”[1960] Celsus believes that divine providence regulates the acts of the demons and so asks: “Why are we not to serve demons?”[1961]

From the names of God and angels, which can perform such wonders, we now turn to the spirits themselves. Celsus seems to view demons as spiritual beings that serve as intermediaries between the supreme Deity and the natural world as well as human society. He believes that “it’s likely that different regions of the earth were originally assigned to various overseeing spirits.”[1956] He warns Christians that it’s ridiculous for them to think they can escape demons by simply refusing to eat meat offered to idols; the demons are everywhere in nature, and one cannot eat bread, drink wine, taste fruit, or even breathe air without receiving these gifts of nature from the demons assigned to different parts of nature.[1957] The Egyptians teach that even the tiniest objects are under the care of demons, and they divide the human body into thirty-six parts, each overseen by a demon of the air who should be called upon to heal that particular part.[1958] Celsus mentions the names of some of these thirty-six demons: Chnoumen, Chnachoumen, Cnat, Sicat, Biou, Erou, and more. However, Celsus doesn’t completely accept this Egyptian doctrine. He suspects, according to Origen, that it leads to magic and adds “the view of those wise men who say that most earth-demons are caught up with carnal pleasures, blood, scents, sweet sounds, and similar sensual things; and therefore, they can do little more than heal the body, or tell the fortunes of people and cities, and perform other tasks related to this mortal life.”[1959] Nevertheless, Celsus seems just as reluctant to accept this Egyptian perspective as he is to endorse magic, concluding that “the more reasonable view is that demons desire nothing and need nothing, but they take pleasure in those who show them acts of piety.”[1960] Celsus believes that divine providence governs the actions of the demons and questions: “Why shouldn’t we serve demons?”[1961]

Origen calls demons wicked.

Origen’s reply to this question is that the demons are wicked spirits and concerned with magic and idolatry. He maintains that not only Christians “but almost all who acknowledge the existence of demons” regard them as evil spirits.[1962] His own attitude toward them is invariably one of hostility. The thirty-six spirits who, as the Egyptians believe, have charge of different parts of the human body, Origen spurns as “thirty-six barbarous demons whom the Egyptian Magi alone call upon in some unknown way.”[1963] Really we probably have here to do with the astrological decans or sub-divisions of the signs of the zodiac into sections of ten degrees each.

Origen’s response to this question is that demons are evil spirits involved in magic and idolatry. He argues that not just Christians, but almost everyone who recognizes demons sees them as malevolent beings. His own view of them is consistently antagonistic. The thirty-six spirits that the Egyptians believe govern different parts of the human body, Origen dismisses as “thirty-six barbarous demons whom the Egyptian Magi call upon in some obscure way.” Really, we’re likely dealing with the astrological decans or subdivisions of the zodiac signs into sections of ten degrees each.

But believes in presiding angels.

Yet Origen’s notion of the spiritual world rather closely resembles that of Celsus, for he is ready to ascribe to angels or other good invisible beings much the same functions which Celsus attributed to demons. He does not, for example, dispute the theory that different parts of the earth and of nature are assigned to different spirits. Instead he “ventures to lay down some considerations of a profounder kind, conveying a mystical and secret view respecting the original distribution of the various quarters of the earth among different superintending spirits.”[1964] He quotes the Septuagint version of Deuteronomy, “When the most High divided the nations.... He set the bounds of the people according to the number of the angels of God.”[1965] He narrates how after Babel, men “were conducted by those angels[Pg 454] who imprinted on each his native language to the different parts of the earth according to their deserts.”[1966] He concludes by saying, “These remarks are to be understood as being made by us with a concealed meaning,”[1967] but there seems little doubt as to his substantial agreement with the view of Celsus. Indeed, later when Celsus asserts that Christians cannot eat, drink, or breathe without being indebted to demons, Origen responds, “We indeed also maintain ... the agency and control of certain beings whom we may call invisible husbandmen and guardians; ... but we deny that those invisible agents are demons.”[1968]

Yet Origen’s idea of the spiritual world closely mirrors that of Celsus, as he is willing to attribute to angels or other good invisible beings much the same roles that Celsus gave to demons. For instance, he doesn’t dispute the idea that different regions of the earth and aspects of nature are assigned to different spirits. Instead, he “dares to propose some deeper thoughts that offer a mystical and secret perspective on the original allocation of various parts of the earth among different overseeing spirits.”[1964] He cites the Septuagint version of Deuteronomy, “When the Most High divided the nations.... He set the boundaries of the people according to the number of the angels of God.”[1965] He describes how, after Babel, people “were guided by those angels[Pg 454] who instilled in each his native language to the different parts of the earth based on their merits.”[1966] He wraps up by saying, “These comments should be understood as having a hidden meaning,”[1967] but there’s little doubt that he largely agrees with Celsus's viewpoint. In fact, later when Celsus claims that Christians cannot eat, drink, or breathe without being indebted to demons, Origen replies, “We indeed also hold ... the involvement and oversight of certain beings whom we may call invisible caretakers and protectors; ... but we deny that these invisible agents are demons.”[1968]

In his fourteenth homily on Numbers, as extant in Rufinus’s translation,[1969] Origen again speaks of presiding angels in these words. “And what is so pleasant, what is so magnificent as the work of the sun or moon by whom the world is illuminated? Yet there is work in the world itself too for angels who are over beasts and for angels who preside over earthly armies. There is work for angels who preside over the nativity of animals, of seedlings, of plantations, and many other growths. And again there is work for angels who preside over holy works, who teach the comprehension of eternal light and the knowledge of God’s secrets and the science of divine things.” How this passage might be used to encourage a belief in magic is made evident by the paraphrase of it in The Occult Philosophy of Henry Cornelius Agrippa,[1970] written in 1510 at the close of the middle ages. He represents Origen as saying, “There is work in the world itself for angels who preside over earthly armies, kingdoms, provinces, men, beasts, the nativity and growth of animals, shoots, plants, and other things, giving that virtue which they say is in things from their occult property.”

In his fourteenth homily on Numbers, as found in Rufinus’s translation, Origen again talks about presiding angels in these words: “And what is more enjoyable, what is more magnificent than the work of the sun or moon, by which the world is lit up? But there is also work in the world itself for angels who oversee animals and those who lead earthly armies. There’s work for angels who govern the birth of animals, seedlings, trees, and many other types of growth. And once again, there’s work for angels who oversee sacred tasks, who teach the understanding of eternal light and the knowledge of God’s mysteries, and the study of divine matters.” How this passage may encourage a belief in magic is clear from the paraphrase in The Occult Philosophy by Henry Cornelius Agrippa, written in 1510 at the end of the Middle Ages. He quotes Origen as saying, “There is work in the world itself for angels who oversee earthly armies, kingdoms, provinces, people, animals, the birth and growth of animals, shoots, plants, and other things, giving that virtue which they claim is in things due to their hidden properties.”

In the treatise De Principiis,[1971] Origen states that particular offices are assigned to individual angels, as curing diseases to Raphael, and the conduct of wars to Gabriel. This notion he perhaps derived from the Book of Enoch which,[Pg 455] however, he states in his Reply to Celsus is not accepted by the churches as divinely inspired.[1972] He further declares on the authority of passages in the New Testament that to one angel the Church of the Ephesians was entrusted; to another, that of Smyrna; that Peter had his angel and Paul his,—nay that “every one of the little ones of the Church” has his angel who daily beholds the face of God.[1973]

In the treatise De Principiis,[1971] Origen asserts that specific roles are assigned to individual angels, such as healing diseases for Raphael and leading battles for Gabriel. He likely got this idea from the Book of Enoch, which, as he mentions in his Reply to Celsus, is not recognized by the churches as divinely inspired.[1972] He also states, based on passages in the New Testament, that one angel was assigned to the Church of the Ephesians, another to the Church of Smyrna; that Peter had his angel and Paul had his—indeed, that “every one of the little ones of the Church” has an angel who sees God’s face daily.[1973]

A law of spiritual gravitation.

Origen advances a further theory concerning spirits, which may be described as a sort of law of spiritual gravitation. It is that when souls are pure and “not weighted down with sin as with a weight of lead,” they ascend on high where other pure and ethereal bodies and spirits dwell, “leaving here below their grosser bodies along with their impurities.” Polluted souls, on the contrary, have to stay close to earth where they wander about sepulchers as ghosts and apparitions.[1974] Origen therefore infers that pagan gods “who are attached for entire ages to particular dwellings and places” on earth, are wicked and polluted spirits. Origen of course will not admit that Christians or Jews bow down even to angels; such worship they reserve for God alone.[1975]

Origen puts forth another theory about spirits, which can be seen as a kind of law of spiritual attraction. He suggests that when souls are pure and “not weighed down by sin like a heavy load,” they rise up to where other pure and ethereal beings and spirits exist, “leaving behind their heavier bodies along with their impurities.” Polluted souls, on the other hand, have to remain close to the earth, wandering around graveyards as ghosts and apparitions. Origen concludes that pagan gods “who are bound for ages to specific homes and locations” on earth are actually evil and contaminated spirits. Of course, Origen does not accept that Christians or Jews worship even angels; such reverence is reserved for God alone.

Attitude of Celsus toward astrology.

Both Celsus and Origen closely associate with the world of invisible spirits, whether these be angels or demons, the visible heavenly bodies, and thus lead us from magic, which Origen makes so dependent upon demons, to the kindred subject of astrology, the pseudo-science of the stars. Celsus had censured the Jews and by implication the Christians for worshiping heaven and the angels, and even apparitions produced by sorcery and enchantment, and yet at the same time neglecting what in his opinion formed the holiest and most powerful part of the heaven, namely, the fixed stars and the planets, “who prophesy to everyone so distinctly, through whom all productiveness results, the most conspicuous of supernal heralds, real heavenly angels.”[1976] This shows that Celsus was much more favorably inclined toward astrology[Pg 456] than toward magic and less sceptical concerning its validity. Origen also represents Celsus—and furthermore the Stoics, Platonists, and Pythagoreans—as believing in the theory of the magnus annus, according to which, when the celestial bodies all return to their original positions after the lapse of some thousands of years, history will begin to repeat itself and the same events will occur and the same persons live over again.[1977] Origen also complains that Celsus regards as a divinely-inspired nation the Chaldeans, who were the founders of “deceitful genethlialogy,”[1978] as well as the Magi whom Celsus elsewhere identified with the Chaldeans or astrologers, but whom Origen as we have seen regards rather as the founders of magic.

Both Celsus and Origen closely connect with the realm of invisible spirits, whether they’re angels or demons, as well as the visible heavenly bodies. This takes us from magic, which Origen argues is heavily reliant on demons, to the related topic of astrology, the pseudoscience of the stars. Celsus criticized the Jews and, by extension, the Christians for worshiping heaven and the angels, and even illusions created by sorcery and enchantment, while at the same time neglecting what he considered the holiest and most powerful part of heaven: the fixed stars and the planets, “who prophesy to everyone so distinctly, through whom all productivity stems, the most notable of celestial heralds, real heavenly angels.”[1976] This indicates that Celsus had a much more positive view of astrology[Pg 456] than he did of magic and was less skeptical about its validity. Origen also portrays Celsus—and, additionally, the Stoics, Platonists, and Pythagoreans—as believing in the theory of the magnus annus, which suggests that when the celestial bodies return to their original positions after thousands of years, history will start to repeat itself, with the same events happening and the same people living again.[1977] Origen further complains that Celsus sees the Chaldeans, the founders of “deceitful genethlialogy,” as a divinely-inspired nation,[1978] along with the Magi, whom Celsus connects with the Chaldeans or astrologers, but whom Origen regards, as we have seen, more as the founders of magic.

Attitude of Origen toward astrology.

Origen is opposed both to this art of casting horoscopes and determining the entire life of the individual from his nativity, and to the theory of the magnus annus,[1979] because he is convinced that to admit their truth is to annihilate free-will. But he is far from having freed himself fundamentally from the astrological attitude toward the stars; indeed he still shows vestiges of the old pagan tendency to worship them as divinities. He is convinced that the celestial bodies are not mere fiery masses, as Anaxagoras teaches.[1980] The body of a star is material, it is true, but also ethereal. But furthermore Origen is inclined to agree, both in the De principiis[1981] and in the Contra Celsum,[1982] that the stars are rational beings (λογικὰ καί σπουδαῖα—the latter word had already been applied to them by Philo Judaeus) possessed of free-will and “illuminated with the light of knowledge by that wisdom which is the reflection of everlasting light.” He interprets a passage in Deuteronomy[1983] to mean that the stars have in general been assigned by God to all the nations beneath the heaven, but asserts that from this system of astral satrapies God’s chosen people were exempted. He[Pg 457] is willing to admit that the stars foretell many things, and puts especial faith in comets as omens.[1984] He states that they have appeared on the eve of dynastic changes, great wars, and other disasters, and inclines also to agree with Chaeremon the Stoic that they may come as signs of future good, as in the case of the star announcing the birth of Christ.[1985] But while Origen will grant reasoning faculties and a certain amount of prophetic power to the stars, he refuses to permit worship of them. Rather he is persuaded “that the sun himself and moon and stars pray to the supreme God through his only begotten Son.”[1986]

Origen opposes the art of casting horoscopes and determining a person's entire life based on their birth, as well as the theory of the magnus annus,[1979] because he believes that accepting their validity undermines free will. However, he hasn't completely moved away from the astrological perspective on the stars; in fact, he still displays remnants of the old pagan inclination to see them as divine. He is convinced that celestial bodies are not just fiery masses, as Anaxagoras suggests.[1980] The physical body of a star is indeed material, but it is also ethereal. Moreover, Origen tends to agree, both in the De principiis[1981] and in the Contra Celsum,[1982] that stars are rational beings (λογικὰ καί σπουδαῖα—the latter term had already been used by Philo Judaeus) endowed with free will and “illuminated with the light of knowledge by that wisdom which is the reflection of everlasting light.” He interprets a passage in Deuteronomy[1983] to imply that the stars have generally been assigned by God to all nations under heaven, but he claims that God’s chosen people were excluded from this system of astral rulership. He[Pg 457] is willing to acknowledge that the stars predict many events and has particular faith in comets as omens.[1984] He notes that they have appeared before major shifts in dynasties, large wars, and other calamities, and he also tends to agree with Chaeremon the Stoic that they can signal future good, as exemplified by the star that announced the birth of Christ.[1985] However, while Origen grants reasoning abilities and a certain degree of prophetic power to the stars, he does not allow for their worship. Instead, he believes “that the sun itself and the moon and stars pray to the supreme God through his only begotten Son.”[1986]

Pierre Daniel Huet (1630-1721), the learned bishop of Avranches and editor of Origen, in his commentaries upon Origen[1987] cites other works, commentaries on Matthew, the Psalms, the Epistle to the Romans, and Ezekiel, in which Origen again states that the stars are reasoning beings, honor God, praise and pray to Him, and even that they are capable of sin, a point upon which he agrees with the Book of Enoch and Bardesanes but not with Philo Judaeus. Nicephorus[1988] states that Origen was condemned in the fifth synod for his error concerning the stars being animated. Sometimes, however, Huet points out, Origen leaves it an open question whether the heavenly bodies are animated or not.[1989] Huet also asserts that in his own time such great men as Tycho Brahe and Kepler have defended the view that the stars are animated beings.

Pierre Daniel Huet (1630-1721), the knowledgeable bishop of Avranches and editor of Origen, in his commentaries on Origen[1987], references other works, including commentaries on Matthew, the Psalms, the Epistle to the Romans, and Ezekiel, where Origen again claims that the stars are reasoning beings that honor God, praise Him, and pray to Him, and that they can even sin. He agrees with the Book of Enoch and Bardesanes on this, but not with Philo Judaeus. Nicephorus[1988] notes that Origen was condemned at the fifth synod for his belief regarding the stars being animated. However, Huet points out that sometimes Origen leaves the question open as to whether the heavenly bodies are animated or not.[1989] Huet also claims that in his own time, notable figures like Tycho Brahe and Kepler supported the idea that the stars are animated beings.

Further discussion in his Commentary on Genesis.

In a fragment from Origen’s Commentary on Genesis preserved by Eusebius we have a further discussion of the stars and astrology.[1990] Here he represents even Christians as troubled by the doctrine that the stars control human affairs absolutely. This theory he attacks as destructive to all morality, as rendering prayer to God of no avail, and as subjecting even such events as the birth of Christ and[Pg 458] the conversion of each individual to Christianity to fatal necessity. Like Philo Judaeus Origen holds that the stars are merely signs instituted by God, not causes of the future, and quotes passages from the Old Testament in support of his view; like the Book of Enoch he holds that men were instructed in the interpretation of the stars’ significations by the fallen angels. He argues at length that divine foreknowledge does not impose necessity. While, however, God instituted the stars as signs of the future, He intended that only the angels should be able to read them, and deemed it best for mankind to remain in ignorance of the future. “For it is a much greater task than lies within human power to learn truly from the motion of the stars what each person will do and suffer.”[1991] The evil spirits have, however, taught men the art of astrology, but Origen believes that it is so difficult and requires such superhuman accuracy that the predictions of astrologers are more likely to be wrong than right. His tone toward astrology is thus distinctly more unfavorable here than in the Reply to Celsus. In arguing that the stars are merely signs, Origen asks why men admit that the flight of birds and condition of entrails in augury and liver-divination are only signs and yet insist that the stars are causes of future events.[1992] The answer, of course, is simple enough: all nature is under the control of the stars which alike produce the events signified and the action of the birds or condition of the liver signifying them. But the question is notable because it was also put by Plotinus a little later in the same century.

In a fragment from Origen’s Commentary on Genesis preserved by Eusebius, there’s a deeper discussion about the stars and astrology.[1990] Here, he shows that even Christians are troubled by the idea that the stars completely control human affairs. He criticizes this theory as harmful to morality, making prayer to God seem pointless, and suggesting that even events like the birth of Christ and the conversion of individuals to Christianity are determined by fate. Like Philo Judaeus, Origen believes that the stars are merely signs created by God, not the causes of what will happen, and cites passages from the Old Testament to support his view. Similar to the Book of Enoch, he claims that fallen angels taught humans how to interpret the meaning of the stars. He argues extensively that divine foreknowledge doesn’t force necessity. While God established the stars as signs of the future, He intended for only angels to understand them, deeming it best for humanity to remain unaware of what lies ahead. “For it is a much greater task than lies within human power to learn truly from the motion of the stars what each person will do and suffer.”[1991] However, evil spirits have taught humans the practice of astrology, but Origen believes it is so complicated and requires such extraordinary precision that astrologers’ predictions are more likely to be wrong than right. His attitude towards astrology is therefore noticeably more critical here than in the Reply to Celsus. While arguing that the stars are just signs, Origen questions why people accept that the flight of birds and the state of entrails in augury and liver-divination are just signs, yet insist that stars are causes of future events.[1992] The answer is, of course, quite straightforward: all nature is governed by the stars, which both bring about the events they signify and influence the actions of the birds or the condition of the liver that signify them. This question is interesting because it was also raised by Plotinus a little later in the same century.

Problems of the waters above the firmament and of one or more heavens.

In explaining the Book of Genesis Origen said that celestial and infernal virtues were represented by the waters above and below the firmament respectively. This figurative interpretation gave offence to many later Christian writers, although some of them were ready to interpret the waters above as celestial virtues, but not to take the waters below as signifying evil spirits.[1993] Concerning the question of a[Pg 459] plurality of heavens Origen says in the Reply to Celsus, “The Scriptures which are current in the Churches of God do not speak of seven heavens or of any definite number at all, but they do appear to teach the existence of heavens, whether that means the spheres of those bodies which the Greeks call planets or something more mysterious.”[1994]

In explaining the Book of Genesis, Origen stated that the waters above and below the firmament represented heavenly and infernal virtues, respectively. This interpretation upset many later Christian writers, although some were willing to see the waters above as heavenly virtues, but they refused to consider the waters below as representing evil spirits. [1993] Regarding the idea of multiple heavens, Origen says in the Reply to Celsus, “The Scriptures that are recognized in the Churches of God do not mention seven heavens or any specific number at all, but they do seem to suggest the existence of heavens, whether that refers to the spheres of those bodies that the Greeks call planets or something more mysterious.” [1994]

Augury, dreams, and prophecy.

Of other pagan methods of divination than astrology Origen disapproved and classed them, as we have seen, as the work of demons. He was impressed by the weight of testimony to the validity of augury,[1995] although he states that it has been disputed whether there is any such art, but he attributed the truth of the predictions to demons acting through the animals and pointed out that the Mosaic law forbade augury[1996] and classified as unclean the animals commonly employed in divination. The true God, he held, would not employ irrational animals at all to reveal the future, nor even any chance human being, but only the purest of prophetic souls. Origen would appear for the moment to have forgotten Balaam’s ass! Moreover, he himself accepted other channels of foreknowledge than holy prophecy, and believed that dreams often were of value in this respect. When Celsus, criticizing the Scriptural story of the flight into Egypt, stated that an angel descended from heaven to warn Joseph and Mary of the danger threatening the Christ child, Origen retorted that the angelic warning came rather in a dream—an occurrence which seemed in no way marvelous to him, since “in many other cases it has happened that a dream has shown persons the proper course of action.”[1997] Origen grants that all men desire to ascertain the future and argues that the Jews must have had divine prophets, or, since they were forbidden by the Mosaic law to consult “observers of times and diviners,” they would have[Pg 460] had no means of satisfying this universal human craving. It was to slake this popular curiosity concerning the future, Origen thinks, that the Hebrew seers sometimes predicted things of no religious significance or other lasting importance.[1998] Once Origen alludes to physiognomy, saying, “If there be any truth in the doctrine of the physiognomists, whether Zopyrus or Loxus or Polemon.”[1999]

Of other pagan methods of divination besides astrology, Origen disapproved and categorized them, as we've seen, as the work of demons. He was struck by the amount of evidence supporting the legitimacy of augury, although he noted that it's been debated whether such a practice actually exists. He believed that the accuracy of the predictions came from demons working through the animals and pointed out that the Mosaic law prohibited augury and deemed the animals typically used in divination as unclean. He asserted that the true God would not use irrational animals to reveal the future, nor any random person, but only the purest prophetic souls. For a moment, it seems Origen forgot about Balaam’s ass! Additionally, he accepted other means of gaining foreknowledge beyond holy prophecy and thought that dreams were often valuable in this regard. When Celsus criticized the biblical account of the flight into Egypt, stating that an angel came down from heaven to warn Joseph and Mary about the danger to the Christ child, Origen replied that the angelic warning actually came through a dream—an event that didn't seem remarkable to him, since “in many other cases it has happened that a dream has shown persons the proper course of action.” Origen acknowledged that all people want to know the future and argued that the Jews must have had divine prophets, or else, since the Mosaic law forbade them from consulting “observers of times and diviners,” they would have had no way to satisfy this universal human desire. Origen believed it was to satisfy this common curiosity about the future that the Hebrew seers sometimes made predictions that had no religious significance or lasting importance. At one point, Origen mentions physiognomy, saying, “If there be any truth in the doctrine of the physiognomists, whether Zopyrus or Loxus or Polemon.”

Animals and gems.

The allusions to natural science in the Reply to Celsus are not numerous. There are a few passages where animals or gems are mentioned. The remarks concerning animals mention the usual favorites and embody familiar notions which we either have already met or shall meet again and again. Celsus speaks[2000] of the knowledge of poisons and medicines possessed by animals, of predictions by birds, of assemblies held by other animals, of the fidelity with which elephants observe oaths, of the filial affection of the stork, and of the Arabian bird, the phoenix.[2001] Origen implies the belief that the weasel conceives through its mouth when he says, “Observe, moreover, to what pitch of wickedness the demons proceed, so that they even assume the bodies of weasels in order to reveal the future.”[2002] Origen also adduces the marvelous methods of generation of several kinds of animals in support of the virgin birth of Jesus.[2003] Origen’s allusions to gems can scarcely be classified as natural science. He contends that Plato’s statement that our precious stones are a reflection of gems in that better land is taken from Isaiah’s description of the city of God.[2004] In another passage Origen again quotes Isaiah regarding the walls, foundations, battlements, and gates of various precious stones, but states that he cannot stop to examine their spiritual meaning at present.[2005] In one of his homilies on the Book of Numbers Origen displays a favorable attitude towards medical and pharmaceutical investigation, saying,[Pg 461] “For if there is any science from God, what will be more from Him than the science of health, in which too the virtues of herbs and the diverse properties of juices are determined.”[2006]

The references to natural science in the Reply to Celsus are few and far between. There are a few sections that mention animals or gems. The comments about animals talk about the usual favorites and contain familiar ideas that we’ve encountered before or will see again and again. Celsus discusses the knowledge of poisons and medicines that animals possess, predictions made by birds, gatherings held by other animals, the loyalty of elephants to their oaths, the parental love of the stork, and the phoenix from Arabia.[2001] Origen suggests the belief that the weasel gives birth through its mouth when he says, “Notice, too, the extent of the evil that demons reach, as they even take on the bodies of weasels to foretell the future.”[2002] Origen also cites the amazing ways that various animals reproduce to support the virgin birth of Jesus.[2003] Origen’s mentions of gems can hardly be considered natural science. He argues that Plato’s claim that our precious stones are a reflection of gems from that better land comes from Isaiah’s description of the city of God.[2004] In another section, Origen again quotes Isaiah about the walls, foundations, battlements, and gates made of different precious stones, but he says he cannot pause to explore their spiritual meanings right now.[2005] In one of his homilies on the Book of Numbers, Origen shows a positive attitude towards medical and pharmaceutical research, stating,[Pg 461] “For if there is any science from God, what could be more from Him than the science of health, which also determines the virtues of herbs and the various properties of juices.”[2006]

Origen later accused of countenancing magic.

Origen’s belief that the stars were rational beings continued to be held by the sect called Origenists and also by the heretic Priscillian and his followers in the later fourth century. Priscillian, as we have seen, was accused of magic and executed in 385. But we are surprised to find Theophilus of Alexandria, who attacked some of Origen’s views as heretical and persuaded Pope Anastasius to do the same, accusing Origen in a letter written in 405 and translated into Latin by Jerome, of having defended magic.[2007] Theophilus states that Origen has written in one of his treatises, “The magic art seems to me a name for something which does not exist”—a bold and admirable assertion, but one which, as we have seen, the Epicurean Celsus would have been much more likely to make than the Christian Origen—“but if it does, it is not the name of an evil work.” Theophilus cannot understand how Origen, who vaunts himself a Christian, can thus make himself a protector of Elymas the magician who opposed the apostles and of Jamnes and Mambres who resisted Moses. Huet, the learned seventeenth century editor of Origen, knew of no such passage in his extant works as that which Theophilus professes to quote.[2008]

Origen’s belief that the stars were rational beings was also held by the Origenists and the heretic Priscillian along with his followers in the later fourth century. Priscillian, as we have seen, was accused of magic and executed in 385. However, it's surprising to find Theophilus of Alexandria, who criticized some of Origen’s views as heretical and convinced Pope Anastasius to do the same, accusing Origen in a letter written in 405 and translated into Latin by Jerome of having defended magic.[2007] Theophilus states that Origen wrote in one of his treatises, “The magic art seems to me a name for something which does not exist”—a bold and admirable statement, but one that, as we've seen, the Epicurean Celsus would be much more likely to make than the Christian Origen—“but if it does, it is not the name of an evil work.” Theophilus struggles to understand how Origen, who boasts of being a Christian, can make himself a defender of Elymas the magician who opposed the apostles and of Jamnes and Mambres who resisted Moses. Huet, the learned seventeenth-century editor of Origen, found no such passage in his surviving works as the one Theophilus claims to quote.[2008]


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CHAPTER XX
OTHER CHRISTIAN DISCUSSION OF MAGIC BEFORE AUGUSTINE

Plan of this chapter—Tertullian on magic—Astrology attacked—Resemblance to Minucius Felix—Lactantius—Hippolytus on magic and astrology—Frauds of magicians in answering questions—Other tricks and illusions—Defects and merits of Hippolytus’ exposure of magic and of magic itself—Hippolytus’ sources—Justin Martyr and others on the witch of Endor—Gregory of Nyssa and Eustathius concerning the ventriloquist—Gregory of Nyssa Against Fate—Astrology and the birth of Christ—Chrysostom on the star of the Magi—Sixth Homily on Matthew—The spurious homily—Number, names, and home of the Magi—Liturgical drama of the Magi; Three Kings of Cologne—Another homily on the Magi—Priscillianists answered—Number and race of the Magi again.

Plan of this chapter—Tertullian on magic—Astrology criticized—Similarity to Minucius Felix—Lactantius—Hippolytus on magic and astrology—Deceptions of magicians in responding to inquiries—Other tricks and illusions—Weaknesses and strengths of Hippolytus’ critique of magic and of magic itself—Hippolytus’ sources—Justin Martyr and others regarding the witch of Endor—Gregory of Nyssa and Eustathius on the ventriloquist—Gregory of Nyssa Against Fate—Astrology and the birth of Christ—Chrysostom on the star of the Magi—Sixth Homily on Matthew—The questionable homily—Number, names, and origins of the Magi—Liturgical drama of the Magi; Three Kings of Cologne—Another homily about the Magi—Responses to the Priscillianists—Number and ethnicity of the Magi revisited.

Plan of this chapter.

In this chapter we shall supplement the picture of the Christian attitude towards magic supplied us in preceding chapters by some accounts of magic in other Christian writers of the period before Augustine. After giving the opinions of a few Latin fathers, Minucius Felix, Tertullian, and Lactantius, we shall consider the exposure of magic devices in Hippolytus’ Refutation of All Heresies, then compare the utterances of other fathers concerning the witch of Endor with those of Origen, and finally discuss the treatment of the Magi and the star of Bethlehem in both the genuine and the spurious homily of Chrysostom on that theme, adding some account of the medieval development of the legend of the three Magi, although leaving until later the statements of medieval theologians and astronomers concerning the star of the Magi. This makes a rather omnibus chapter, but its component parts are too brief to separate as distinct chapters and they all supplement the preceding chapter on Origen and Celsus.

In this chapter, we will add to the understanding of the Christian view on magic that we've explored in earlier chapters by examining some perspectives from other Christian writers before Augustine. After reviewing the opinions of a few Latin church fathers, including Minucius Felix, Tertullian, and Lactantius, we will look at Hippolytus’ Refutation of All Heresies for insights on magic practices. We will then compare other church fathers' comments on the witch of Endor with those of Origen, and finally, we'll discuss how the Magi and the star of Bethlehem are treated in both the authentic and questionable homily by Chrysostom on this topic. We will also touch on the medieval evolution of the legend of the three Magi but will save the comments from medieval theologians and astronomers about the star of the Magi for later. This makes for a rather comprehensive chapter, but the individual sections are too short to stand as separate chapters, and they all complement the previous chapter on Origen and Celsus.

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Tertullian on magic.

Some important features of Origen’s account of magic are duplicated in the writings of the western church father, Tertullian, who wrote at about the same time or perhaps a few years before Origen. Again the Jews are represented as calling Christ a magician,[2009] and when Tertullian challenges the emperors to allow a Christian exorcist to appear before them and attempt to expel a demon from someone so possessed and force the spirit to confess its evil character, he expects that his Christian exorcist will be accused of employing magic.[2010] Again divination and magic are attributed to the fallen angels; in fact, Tertullian follows the Book of Enoch in stating that men were instructed by the fallen angels in metallurgy and botany as well as in incantations and astrology.[2011] The demons are represented as invisible and “everywhere in a moment.” Living as they do in the air near the clouds and stars, they are enabled to predict the weather. They send diseases and then pretend to cure them by the recommendation of novel remedies or prescriptions quite contrary to accepted medical practice.[2012] “There is hardly a human being who is unattended by a demon.”[2013] Magicians are described by Tertullian as producing phantasms, insulting the souls of the dead, injuring boys for purposes of divination, sending dreams, and performing many miraculous feats by their complicated jugglery.[2014] “The science of magic” is well defined as “a multiform contagion of the human mind, an artificer of every error, a destroyer of safety and soul.” As examples of well-known magicians Tertullian lists Ostanes and Typhon and Dardanus and Damigeron[2015] and Nectabis[2016] and Berenice. Ter[Pg 464]tullian states that a literature is current which promises to evoke ghosts from the infernal regions, but that in such cases the dead are really impersonated by demons, as was the fact when the pythoness seemed to show Samuel to Saul, a point on which Tertullian disagrees with Origen. Magic is therefore fallacious, a point which Tertullian emphasizes more than Origen did, although Tertullian is not very explicit. He avers that “it is no great task to deceive the outer eye of him whose mental insight it is easy to blind.” The rods of Pharaoh’s magicians seemed to turn into snakes, “but Moses’[2017] reality devoured their deceit.”

Some important features of Origen’s account of magic are also found in the writings of the western church father, Tertullian, who wrote around the same time or maybe a few years before Origen. Again, the Jews are depicted as calling Christ a magician, [2009] and when Tertullian challenges the emperors to let a Christian exorcist appear before them to try to expel a demon from someone possessed and make the spirit confess its evil nature, he expects that his Christian exorcist will be accused of using magic. [2010] Once more, divination and magic are attributed to fallen angels; in fact, Tertullian follows the Book of Enoch in stating that fallen angels taught men about metallurgy and botany, as well as incantations and astrology. [2011] The demons are portrayed as invisible and “everywhere in a moment.” Living in the air near the clouds and stars, they can predict the weather. They inflict diseases and then pretend to cure them by suggesting new remedies or prescriptions that are completely against accepted medical practices. [2012] “There is hardly a human being who is without a demon.” [2013] Tertullian describes magicians as creating illusions, insulting the souls of the dead, harmfully using boys for divination purposes, sending dreams, and performing many miraculous acts with their complex tricks. [2014] “The science of magic” is well defined as “a multiform contagion of the human mind, an artificer of every error, a destroyer of safety and soul.” Tertullian lists well-known magicians such as Ostanes, Typhon, Dardanus, Damigeron [2015], Nectabis [2016], and Berenice. Tertullian states that there is literature claiming to summon ghosts from the underworld, but in those cases, the dead are actually impersonated by demons, as happened when the pythoness seemed to show Samuel to Saul, a point where Tertullian disagrees with Origen. Magic is therefore deceptive, a point that Tertullian emphasizes more than Origen did, although he's not very explicit about it. He claims that “it is no great task to deceive the outer eye of him whose mental insight it is easy to blind.” The rods of Pharaoh’s magicians appeared to turn into snakes, “but Moses’ [2017] reality devoured their deceit.”

Astrology attacked.

Tertullian further diverges from Origen in definitely classifying astrology as a species of magic along with that other variety of magic which works miracles. Astrology is an art which was invented by the fallen angels and with which Christians should have nothing to do. Tertullian would not mention it but for the fact that recently a certain person has defended his persistence in that profession, that is, presumably after he had become a Christian. Tertullian states, again unlike Origen, that the Magi who came from the east to the Christ child were astrologers—“We know the union existing between magic and astrology”—but that Christ’s followers are under no obligation to astrology on their account, although he again implies the existence of Christian astrologers in the sarcastic remark, “Astrology now-a-days, forsooth, treats of Christ; is the science of the stars of Christ, not of Saturn and Mars.” As Origen affirmed that the power of the demons and of magic was greatly weakened by the birth of Christ, so Tertullian affirms that the science of the stars was allowed to exist until the coming of the Gospel, but that since Christ’s birth no one should cast nativities. “For since the Gospel you will never find sophist or Chaldean or enchanter or diviner or magician who has not been manifestly punished.”[2018] Tertullian rejoices that the mathematici or as[Pg 465]trologers are forbidden to enter Rome or Italy, the reason being, as he states in another passage,[2019] that they are consulted so much in regard to the life of the emperor.

Tertullian also differs from Origen by clearly classifying astrology as a type of magic alongside the kind that performs miracles. Astrology is an art that was created by fallen angels, and Christians should have no involvement with it. Tertullian wouldn’t mention it if not for the fact that a certain person recently defended his continued practice of it, presumably after becoming a Christian. Tertullian states, unlike Origen, that the Magi who came from the east to visit the Christ child were astrologers—“We know the connection between magic and astrology”—but that Christ’s followers aren’t obligated to astrology because of them, although he sarcastically implies the existence of Christian astrologers with the remark, “Astrology nowadays, really, deals with Christ; is the science of the stars about Christ, not about Saturn and Mars?” Just as Origen claimed that the power of demons and magic was greatly diminished by Christ’s birth, Tertullian asserts that the science of the stars was allowed to exist until the coming of the Gospel, but since Christ’s birth, no one should cast horoscopes. “For since the Gospel, you will never find a sophist, Chaldean, enchanter, diviner, or magician who hasn’t been clearly punished.”[2018] Tertullian is pleased that the mathematici or astrologers are banned from entering Rome or Italy, as he mentions in another passage, [2019] because they are consulted so much regarding the emperor’s life.

Resemblance to Minucius Felix.

Tertullian’s account of magic is perhaps borrowed from the dialogue entitled Octavius by M. Minucius Felix,[2020] which is generally regarded as the oldest extant work of Christian Latin literature and was probably written in the reign of Marcus Aurelius. Some of the words and phrases used by Tertullian and Minucius Felix in describing magic are almost identical,[2021] and a third passage of the same sort appears in Cyprian of Carthage in the third century.[2022] Ostanes, one of Tertullian’s list of magicians, is also mentioned as the first prominent magician by both Minucius Felix and Cyprian. Minucius Felix ascribes magic to demons and seems to regard it as a deceptive and rather unreal art, saying, “The magicians not only are acquainted with demons, but whatever miraculous feats they perform, they do through demons; under their influence and inspiration they produce illusions, making things seem to be which are not, or making real things seem non-existent.”

Tertullian’s account of magic likely draws from the dialogue titled Octavius by M. Minucius Felix, which is generally considered the oldest surviving work of Christian Latin literature and was probably written during the reign of Marcus Aurelius. Some of the words and phrases used by Tertullian and Minucius Felix to describe magic are almost identical, and a similar passage appears in Cyprian of Carthage in the third century. Ostanes, one of Tertullian’s listed magicians, is also mentioned as the first notable magician by both Minucius Felix and Cyprian. Minucius Felix attributes magic to demons and seems to see it as a deceptive and rather illusory practice, stating, “The magicians not only know of demons, but whatever miraculous feats they perform, they do through demons; under their influence and inspiration, they create illusions, making things seem to be which are not, or making real things seem non-existent.”

Lactantius.

A century after Tertullian Lactantius of Gaul treats of magic and demons in about the same way in his Divine Institutes,[2023] written at the opening of the fourth century. He denies that Christ was a magician and declares that His miracles differed from those attributed to Apuleius and Apollonius of Tyana in that they were announced beforehand by the prophets. “He worked marvels,” Lactantius says to his opponents, “and we should have thought Him a magician, as you think now and as the Jews thought at the time, had not all the prophets with one accord predicted that Christ would do these very things.”[2024] Lactantius believes[Pg 466] that the offspring of the fallen angels and “the daughters of men” were a different variety of demon from their fathers and more terrestrial. Be that as it may, he affirms that the entire art and power of the magicians consist in invocations of demons who “deceive human vision by blinding illusions so that men do not see what does exist and think that they see what does not exist,”[2025] the very expression that we have just heard from Minucius Felix. More specifically Lactantius regards necromancy, oracles, liver-divination, augury, and astrology as all invented by the demons.[2026] Like Origen he emphasizes the power of the sign of the cross and the name of Jesus against the evil spirits,[2027] and he implies the power of the names of spirits when he states that, although demons may masquerade under other forms and names in pagan temples and worships, in magic and sorcery they are always summoned by their true names, those celestial ones which are read in sacred literature.[2028]

A century after Tertullian, Lactantius of Gaul discusses magic and demons in a similar way in his Divine Institutes,[2023] written at the beginning of the fourth century. He argues that Christ was not a magician and claims that His miracles were different from those associated with Apuleius and Apollonius of Tyana because they were predicted in advance by the prophets. “He performed wonders,” Lactantius tells his opponents, “and we might have thought Him a magician, as you do now and as the Jews did at the time, if all the prophets hadn't unanimously foretold that Christ would do these very things.”[2024] Lactantius believes[Pg 466] that the offspring of the fallen angels and “the daughters of men” were a different type of demon from their fathers, and more earthly. Regardless, he asserts that the entire skill and power of the magicians lie in invoking demons who “deceive human perception with blinding illusions so that people do not see what is real and think they see what is not,”[2025] the exact phrase we just heard from Minucius Felix. More specifically, Lactantius considers necromancy, oracles, liver divination, augury, and astrology to be entirely invented by demons.[2026] Like Origen, he emphasizes the power of the sign of the cross and the name of Jesus against evil spirits,[2027] and he suggests the power of the names of spirits when he mentions that, although demons may disguise themselves under different forms and names in pagan temples and practices, in magic and sorcery they are always called upon by their true names, those celestial names found in sacred texts.[2028]

Hippolytus on magic and astrology.

From these accounts of magic in Latin fathers, which do little more than reinforce the impressions which we had already gained concerning the Christian attitude, we come to a very different discussion by Hippolytus who wrote in Greek although he lived in Italy. Eusebius and Jerome state that Origen as a young man heard Hippolytus preach at Rome; in 235 he was exiled to Sardinia; the next year his body was brought back to Rome for burial. In Hippolytus, instead of attacks upon astrology as impious, immoral, and fatalistic, and upon magic as evil and the work of demons, we have an attempt to prove astrology irrational and impracticable, and to show that magic is based upon imposture and deceit. In the first four of the nine books of his Philosophumena or Refutation of All Heresies[2029] Hippolytus set forth the tenets of the Greek philosophers, the system of the astrologers, and the practice of the magicians[Pg 467] in order later to be able to show how much the various heretics had borrowed from these sources. His second and third books are not extant; it is in the fourth book or what is left of it that we have portions of his discussion of astrology and magic.[2030]

From these accounts of magic in Latin writings, which mostly just reinforce what we already understood about the Christian perspective, we come to a very different discussion by Hippolytus, who wrote in Greek even though he lived in Italy. Eusebius and Jerome mention that Origen, when he was young, listened to Hippolytus preach in Rome; in 235, he was exiled to Sardinia, and the following year, his body was returned to Rome for burial. In Hippolytus's work, instead of condemning astrology as sinful, immoral, and fatalistic, and magic as evil and demonic, he attempts to demonstrate that astrology is irrational and impractical, and that magic is based on trickery and deception. In the first four of the nine books of his Philosophumena or Refutation of All Heresies[2029], Hippolytus outlines the beliefs of Greek philosophers, the systems of astrologers, and the practices of magicians[Pg 467] to later illustrate how much the different heretics borrowed from these influences. His second and third books have not survived; in the fourth book or what's left of it, we find parts of his discussion on astrology and magic.[2030]

Frauds of magicians in answering questions.

In exposing the frauds of magicians Hippolytus uses the word μάγος, and not γόης, a sorcerer. He tells how the magicians pretend that the spirits give response through a medium to questions which those consulting them have written on papyrus, perhaps in invisible ink, and folded up, after which the papyrus is placed on coals and burned. The magician, however, operating in semi-darkness and making a great noise and diversion and pretending to invoke the demon, is really occupied in sprinkling the burnt papyrus with a mixture of water and copperas (vitriol?) or fumigating it with vapor of a gall nut or employing other methods to make the concealed letters visible. Having by some such method discovered the question, he instructs the medium, who is now supposed to be possessed of demons and is reclining upon a couch, what answer to give by whispering to him through a long hidden tube constructed out of the windpipe of a crane or ten brass pipes fitted together. It will be recalled that it was by such a tube made of the windpipes of cranes that Alexander the false prophet, according to Lucian, caused the artificial head of his god to give forth oracles. Hippolytus adds that at the same time the magician produces alarming flames and liquids by such chemical mixtures as fossil salts and Etruscan wax and a grain of salt. “And when this is consumed, the salts bound upward and give the impression of a strange vision.”[2031]

In exposing the tricks of magicians, Hippolytus uses the word μάγος instead of γόης, meaning sorcerer. He explains how the magicians pretend that spirits respond through a medium to questions that the clients have written on papyrus, possibly in invisible ink, and then folded up. The papyrus is placed on coals and burned. The magician, however, works in dim light, making a lot of noise and causing distractions while pretending to summon the demon. In reality, he is busy sprinkling the burnt papyrus with a mix of water and copperas (vitriol?) or fumigating it with vapors from a gall nut or using other techniques to reveal the hidden letters. Once he figures out the question through one of these methods, he tells the medium, who is now supposed to be possessed by demons and lying on a couch, what answer to give by whispering to him through a long hidden tube made from a crane's windpipe or several brass pipes connected together. It’s worth noting that, according to Lucian, it was a tube made from cranes' windpipes that Alexander the false prophet used to make the artificial head of his god give oracles. Hippolytus adds that at the same time, the magician creates alarming flames and liquids using chemical mixtures like fossil salts, Etruscan wax, and a pinch of salt. “And when this is consumed, the salts rise up and create the illusion of a strange vision.”[2031]

Other tricks and illusions.

Hippolytus also reveals how magicians secretly fill eggs with dyes, how they cause sheep to behead themselves against a sword by smearing their throats with a drug which makes them itch, how a ram dies if its head is merely bent back facing the sun, how they obstruct the ears of goats with[Pg 468] wax so that they cannot breathe and presently die of suffocation, how out of sea foam they make a compound which, like alcohol, will itself burn but not consume the objects over which it is poured.[2032] He tells how the magician produces stage thunder, how he is able to plunge his hand into a boiling cauldron or walk over hot coals without being burnt, and how he can set a seeming pyramid of stone on fire. He tells how the magicians loosen seals and seal them up again, just as Lucian did in his Alexander or The Pseudo-Prophet; how by means of trap-doors, mirrors, and the like devices they show demons in a cauldron; how they pretend to show flaming demons by igniting drawings which they have sketched on the wall with some inflammable substance or by loosing a bird which has been set on fire. They make the moon appear indoors and imitate the starry sky by attaching fish scales to the ceiling. They produce the sensation of an earthquake by burning the ordure of a weasel with the stone magnet upon an open fire. They construct a false skull from the caul of an ox, some wax, and some gum, make it speak by means of a hidden tube, and then cause it suddenly to collapse and disappear or to burn up.[2033]

Hippolytus also reveals how magicians secretly fill eggs with dyes, how they make sheep behead themselves against a sword by putting a drug on their throats that makes them itch, how a ram dies if its head is simply tilted back toward the sun, how they block goats' ears with[Pg 468] wax so that they can't breathe and soon die of suffocation, and how they create a mixture from sea foam that, like alcohol, can burn on its own without consuming the objects it’s poured over.[2032] He explains how the magician creates stage thunder, how he can stick his hand into a boiling cauldron or walk on hot coals without getting burned, and how he can set a fake pyramid of stone on fire. He describes how magicians loosen seals and reseal them, just like Lucian did in his Alexander or The Pseudo-Prophet; how through trap doors, mirrors, and similar devices they show demons in a cauldron; how they pretend to show flaming demons by igniting drawings they made on the wall with flammable material or by releasing a bird that has been set on fire. They make the moon appear indoors and mimic the starry sky by attaching fish scales to the ceiling. They create the sensation of an earthquake by burning a weasel's droppings with a stone magnet over an open fire. They construct a fake skull from an ox's membrane, some wax, and some gum, make it speak through a hidden tube, and then suddenly make it collapse and disappear or burn up.[2033]

Defects and merits of Hippolytus’ exposure of magic and of magic itself.

This exposition of the frauds of the magicians by Hippolytus is rather broken and incoherent, at least in the form in which his text has reached us.[2034] Also we do not have much more faith in some of the methods by which he says the feats of magic are really done than he has in the ways by which the magicians claim to perform them. But while his notions of the chemical action of certain substances and of the occult virtue of others may be incorrect, the note[Pg 469]worthy point is that he endeavors to explain magic either as a deception or as employing natural substances and forces to simulate supernatural action, and that his exposure of magic devices leaves no place for the action of demons. Moreover, we see that magic fraud involves chemical experiment and considerable knowledge or error in the field of natural science. Under the guise or tyranny of magic experimental science is at work.

This explanation of the frauds committed by magicians by Hippolytus is quite disjointed and confusing, at least in the form that we have it. Also, we don’t trust some of the methods he claims explain how magic tricks are actually done any more than he trusts the ways magicians say they perform them. While his ideas about the chemical properties of certain substances and the hidden powers of others might be wrong, the key point is that he tries to explain magic as either a trick or as using natural substances and forces to mimic supernatural effects, making it clear that there’s no role for demons in his analysis. Additionally, it’s evident that magical fraud involves chemical experiments and a significant amount of knowledge—or misunderstanding—in the realm of natural science. Behind the facade of magic, experimental science is at work.

Hippolytus’ sources.

The question then arises whether Hippolytus himself discovered these tricks of the magicians or whether he is simply copying his explanations of them from some previous work. An examination of the earlier chapters of his fourth book is sufficient to solve the question. His arguments against the practice of the Chaldean astrologers of predicting man’s life from his horoscope at the time of his birth are drawn from the pages of the sceptical philosopher, Sextus Empiricus, whom he follows so closely that his editors are able to rectify his text by reference to the parallel passage in Sextus. We are therefore probably safe in assuming, especially in view of the resemblances to the Alexander of Lucian which have already been noted, that Hippolytus’ attack on magic is also largely indebted to some classical work, possibly to that very treatise against magic by Celsus to which both Origen and Lucian refer, or perhaps to some account of apparatus with which to work marvels like Hero’s Pneumatics.

The question then arises whether Hippolytus himself discovered these tricks of the magicians or if he is just copying his explanations from some earlier source. A look at the previous chapters of his fourth book is enough to answer this. His arguments against the Chaldean astrologers' practice of predicting a person's life based on their birth horoscope are taken from the writings of the skeptical philosopher, Sextus Empiricus. He follows Sextus so closely that his editors can correct his text by comparing it to the parallel passage in Sextus. Therefore, we can probably assume, especially considering the similarities to Lucian's Alexander that have already been pointed out, that Hippolytus’ critique of magic also relies heavily on some classical work, possibly that very treatise against magic by Celsus mentioned by both Origen and Lucian, or maybe on some account of tools to perform marvels like Hero’s Pneumatics.

Justin Martyr and others on the witch of Endor.

Turning back now to the subject of the witch of Endor, we find that some of the church fathers agree with Origen rather than Tertullian that the witch really invoked Samuel. Before Origen’s time Justin Martyr in The Dialogue with Trypho[2035] had mentioned as a proof of the immortality of the soul “the fact that the soul of Samuel was called up by the witch, as Saul demanded.” Huet, who edited the writings of Origen, lists other Christian authors[2036] who agreed[Pg 470] with Origen on this question, and further informs us that the ancient rabbis were wont to say that a soul invoked within a year after its death as Samuel’s was, would be seen by the ventriloquist but not heard, and heard by the person consulting it but not seen, an observation which suggests that Saul was deceived by ventriloquism, while by others present the ghost would be neither seen nor heard.

Turning back now to the topic of the witch of Endor, we find that some of the early church fathers agree with Origen rather than Tertullian that the witch truly summoned Samuel. Before Origen’s time, Justin Martyr in The Dialogue with Trypho[2035] mentioned as evidence of the soul's immortality “the fact that the soul of Samuel was called up by the witch, as Saul requested.” Huet, who edited Origen's writings, lists other Christian authors[2036] who shared Origen's view on this matter, and further informs us that the ancient rabbis would say that a soul invoked within a year after its death, as Samuel's was, would be seen by the ventriloquist but not heard, and heard by the person consulting it but not seen. This observation suggests that Saul was misled by ventriloquism, while others present would experience the ghost as neither seen nor heard.

Gregory of Nyssa and Eustathius concerning the ventriloquist.

Two ecclesiastics of the fourth century composed special treatises upon the ventriloquist or witch of Endor in which they took the opposite view from that of Origen. The briefer of these two treatises is by Gregory of Nyssa[2037] who states, without mentioning Origen by name, that some previous writers have contended that Samuel was truly invoked by magic with divine permission in order that he might see his mistake in having called Saul the enemy of ventriloquists. But Gregory believes that Samuel was already in paradise and hence could not be invoked from the infernal regions; but that it was a demon from the infernal regions who predicted to Saul, “To-morrow you and Jonathan shall be with me.” The longer treatise of Eustathius of Antioch is a direct answer to Origen’s argument as its title, Concerning the Ventriloquist against Origen,[2038] indicates. Eustathius holds that it was illegal to consult ventriloquists in view of Saul’s own previous action against them and other prohibitions in Scripture, and that Origen’s remarks are to be deplored as tending to encourage simple men to resort to arts of divination. Eustathius contends that the witch did not invoke Samuel but only made Saul think that she did, and that Saul himself did not see Samuel. Pharaoh’s magicians similarly deceived the imagination with shadows and specters when they pretended to turn rods into snakes and water into blood. Eustathius does not agree with Origen that Samuel was in hell. He holds that the predictions made by the pseudo-Samuel were not impossible for a demon to make, and indeed were not strictly accurate,[Pg 471] since Saul did not die the very next day but the day after it, and since not only Jonathan but his three sons were slain with him.[2039] Furthermore, David was already so prominent in public affairs that a demon might easily guess that he would succeed Saul.

Two church leaders from the fourth century wrote specific texts about the ventriloquist or witch of Endor, taking a stance opposite to that of Origen. The shorter of the two texts is by Gregory of Nyssa[2037] who notes, without naming Origen, that some earlier writers argued that Samuel was indeed called forth by magic with divine consent so that he could realize his mistake in labeling Saul as the enemy of ventriloquists. However, Gregory believes that Samuel was already in paradise and therefore could not be summoned from the underworld; rather, it was a demon from the underworld who told Saul, “Tomorrow you and Jonathan shall be with me.” The longer treatise by Eustathius of Antioch directly responds to Origen’s argument, as indicated by its title, Concerning the Ventriloquist against Origen,[2038]. Eustathius argues that it was wrong to consult ventriloquists, especially considering Saul’s earlier actions against them and other biblical prohibitions, and he criticizes Origen’s statements for potentially encouraging naive people to turn to divination. Eustathius asserts that the witch did not actually call Samuel but merely made Saul believe she did, and that Saul himself did not see Samuel. Pharaoh’s magicians similarly misled people's imaginations with illusions when they pretended to turn rods into snakes and water into blood. Eustathius disagrees with Origen's claim that Samuel was in hell. He believes that the predictions made by the false Samuel were not beyond a demon's capability, and in fact, were not entirely accurate,[Pg 471] as Saul did not die the very next day but rather the day after, and not only Jonathan but his three sons were killed with him.[2039] Moreover, David was already so well-known in public matters that a demon could easily infer that he would take Saul's place.

Gregory of Nyssa Against Fate.

Gregory of Nyssa also composed a treatise, entitled Against Fate,[2040] in the form of a disputation between a pagan philosopher and himself at Constantinople in 382 A. D. His opponent holds that the life of man is determined by the constellations at his nativity, upon whose decree even conversion to Christianity would thus be made dependent. Gregory assumes the position of one hitherto ignorant of the principles of the art of astrology, of which the philosopher has to inform him, but on general grounds it seems very unlikely that he really was as ignorant as this of such a widespread superstition. Furthermore, he is sufficiently read in the subject to incorporate some of Bardesanes’ arguments, of whose treatise both Gregory’s title and dialogue form are reminiscent. Some of Gregory’s reasoning, however, might well be that of a tyro and is scarcely worth elaborating here.

Gregory of Nyssa also wrote a treatise called Against Fate,[2040] which takes the form of a discussion between a pagan philosopher and himself in Constantinople in 382 A.D. His opponent argues that a person's life is determined by the constellations at their birth, suggesting that even converting to Christianity would depend on this fate. Gregory pretends to be someone who has never heard of astrology, which the philosopher has to explain to him, but it seems unlikely that he was actually that uninformed about such a common superstition. Additionally, he knows enough about the topic to include some of Bardesanes’ arguments, as both the title and the format of his dialogue are reminiscent of Bardesanes’ work. Some of Gregory’s reasoning, however, does come off as inexperienced and is not really worth discussing here.

Astrology and the birth of Christ.

When the writer of the Gospel according to Matthew included the story of the wise men from the east who had seen the star, there can be little or no doubt that he inserted it and that it had been formulated in the first place, not merely in order to satisfy the ordinary, unlearned reader with portents connected with the birth of Jesus, but to secure the appearance of support for the kingship of Jesus from that art or science of astrology which so many persons then held in high esteem. To an age whose sublimest science was star-gazing it would seem fitting and almost inevitable that God should have announced the coming of the Prince of Peace in this manner, and the account in the Gospel of Matthew is in a sense an attempt to present the birth of Christ in a way to comply with the most searching tests of contem[Pg 472]porary science. But the early Christians were relatively rude and unlettered, and this effort to construct a royal horoscope for Jesus is a crude and faulty one from the astrological standpoint. For this, however, the author of the Gospel and not the art of astrology is obviously responsible. As a result, however, of the Gnostic reaction against astrological fatalism or of an orthodox Christian opposition to both Gnostics and astrologers, most of the early fathers of the church denied that this passage implied any recognition of the truth of astrology and attempted to explain away its obvious meaning. In doing this they often made the crude and imperfect astrology of the Gospel a criterion for criticizing the art of astrology itself.

When the writer of the Gospel of Matthew included the story of the wise men from the east who saw the star, it's clear he added it for a purpose. It wasn't just to entertain the everyday reader with signs related to Jesus's birth, but to provide a sense of legitimacy to Jesus's kingship from the perspective of astrology, which was highly regarded at the time. In an era where the highest form of knowledge was astronomy, it seemed appropriate and almost necessary for God to announce the arrival of the Prince of Peace this way. The account in Matthew's Gospel attempts to present Christ's birth in a way that meets the rigorous standards of contemporary science. However, early Christians were relatively unsophisticated and uneducated, and this effort to create a royal horoscope for Jesus is, from an astrological perspective, quite crude and flawed. The responsibility for this lies with the Gospel's author, not with astrology itself. Consequently, due to the Gnostic backlash against astrological determinism and the orthodox Christian opposition to both Gnostics and astrologers, most early church fathers claimed that this passage did not acknowledge astrology's validity and tried to dismiss its clear implications. In doing so, they often used the crude and flawed astrology in the Gospel as a way to critique astrology as a whole.

Chrysostom on the star of the Magi.

Of patristic commentaries upon the passage in the Gospel of Matthew dealing with the Magi and the star of Bethlehem one of the fullest and most frequently cited by medieval writers is that attributed to Chrysostom. I say “attributed,” because in addition to his genuine sixth homily upon Matthew[2041] there was generally ascribed to Chrysostom in the middle ages another homily which is extant only in Latin[2042] and has been thought to be the work of some Arian. The famous St. John Chrysostom was born at Antioch about 347 A. D. and there studied rhetoric under the noted sophist Libanius. From 398 to 404 he held the office of patriarch of Constantinople; then he was exiled to Cappadocia where he died in 407. One detail of his boyhood may be noted because of its connection with magic. When he was a lad, the tyrants in the city became suspicious of plots against them and sent soldiers to search for books of magic and sorcery. One of the men who was arrested and put to death had tried to rid himself of the damaging possession of a book of magic by throwing it into the river. Chrysostom and a playmate later unsuspectingly fished an object out of the water which turned out to be this very book, and[Pg 473] when a soldier happened to pass by just then, they were very frightened lest he should see what they had and they should be severely punished for it.[2043]

Of the early Church commentaries on the passage in the Gospel of Matthew about the Magi and the star of Bethlehem, one of the most detailed and frequently referenced by medieval writers is the one attributed to Chrysostom. I say “attributed” because, in addition to his authentic sixth homily on Matthew[2041], there was generally another homily assigned to Chrysostom in the Middle Ages that exists only in Latin[2042] and is thought to have been written by some Arian. The famous St. John Chrysostom was born in Antioch around 347 A.D. and studied rhetoric there under the well-known sophist Libanius. From 398 to 404, he served as patriarch of Constantinople; afterward, he was exiled to Cappadocia, where he died in 407. One aspect of his childhood is worth mentioning because of its connection to magic. When he was a boy, the local tyrants became wary of conspiracies against them and sent soldiers to search for books on magic and sorcery. One man who was arrested and executed had tried to dispose of a book of magic by throwing it into the river. Chrysostom and a friend later unknowingly pulled an object out of the water that turned out to be this very book, and[Pg 473] when a soldier happened to walk by at that moment, they were very scared that he might see what they had and that they would be harshly punished for it.[2043]

Sixth homily on Matthew.

In his sixth homily upon Matthew Chrysostom recognizes the difficulties presented by the Scriptural account of the Magi and the star, and approaches the task of expounding it with prayers to God for aid. Some, he informs us, take the passage as an admission of the truth of astrology. It is this opinion which he is concerned to refute. He argues that it is not the function of astronomy to learn from the stars who are being born but merely to predict from the hour of birth what is going to happen, which seems a quite fallacious distinction upon his part. He also criticizes the Magi for calling Jesus the king of the Jews, when as Christ told Pilate His kingdom was not of this world. He further criticizes them for coming to Christ’s birthplace when they might have known that it would cause difficulties with Herod, the existing king, and for coming, making trouble, and then immediately going back home again. But these shortcomings would seem to be those of the Scriptural narrative rather than of the art of astrology, although of course Chrysostom is trying to make the point that the Magi had not foreseen what would happen to themselves. He further argues that the star of Bethlehem was not like other stars nor even a star at all,[2044] as was proved by its peculiar itinerary, its shining by day, its rare intelligence in hiding itself at the right time, and its miraculous ability in standing over the head of the child. Chrysostom therefore con[Pg 474]cludes that some invisible virtue put on the form of a star. He thinks that the star appeared to the Magi as a reflection upon the Jews, who had rejected prophet after prophet, whereas the apparition of a single star was sufficient to bring barbarian Magi to the feet of Christ. At the same time he believes that God especially favored the Magi in vouchsafing them a star, a sign to which they were accustomed, as the mode of announcement. Thus he comes dangerously near to admitting tacitly what he has just been denying, namely, that the stars are signs of the future and that there is something in the art of astrology. In short, the star appeared to the Magi because they as astrologers would comprehend its meaning. Chrysostom denies this openly and does his best to think up arguments against it, but he cannot rid his subconscious thought of the idea.

In his sixth homily on Matthew, Chrysostom acknowledges the challenges presented by the biblical story of the Magi and the star and begins his explanation with prayers to God for help. He mentions that some people interpret this passage as validating astrology, which he aims to refute. He argues that astronomy’s purpose is not to determine who is being born based on the stars, but to predict future events from the time of birth—a distinction that seems quite flawed on his part. He also criticizes the Magi for referring to Jesus as the king of the Jews since, as Christ told Pilate, His kingdom was not of this world. Furthermore, he scolds them for visiting Christ’s birthplace, knowing it could cause trouble with Herod, the current king, and for making an uproar and then quickly returning home. However, these criticisms appear to reflect issues in the biblical narrative rather than the field of astrology, although Chrysostom is attempting to point out that the Magi did not foresee their own fate. He also argues that the Bethlehem star was unlike other stars or even a star at all, as demonstrated by its unusual path, its ability to shine during the day, its intelligence in hiding at the right moments, and its miraculous capability to hover above the child. Chrysostom therefore concludes that some invisible force took on the appearance of a star. He believes that the star appeared to the Magi as a reflection of the Jews, who had turned away from prophet after prophet, while the appearance of a single star was enough to draw foreign Magi to Christ. At the same time, he thinks that God particularly favored the Magi by providing them a star, a sign they were familiar with, as a form of announcement. Thus, he comes dangerously close to implicitly admitting what he has just denied—that stars are signs of the future and that astrology holds some truth. In summary, the star appeared to the Magi because they, as astrologers, would understand its significance. Chrysostom openly denies this and tries to come up with arguments against it, but he cannot shake the idea from his subconscious.

The spurious homily.

The other homily ascribed to Chrysostom repeats some of the points made in the genuine homily, but adds others. The preacher has read somewhere, perhaps in Origen where we have already met the suggestion, that the Magi had learned that the star would appear from the books of the diviner Balaam, “whose divination is also put into the Old Testament: ‘A star shall arise from Jacob and a man shall come forth from Israel, and he shall rule all nations.’” But the preacher does not state why it is any better to have such a prediction made by a diviner than by an astrologer. The preacher has also heard some cite a writing, which is not surely authentic but yet is not destructive to the Faith and rather pleasing, to the effect that in the extreme east on the shores of the ocean live a people who possess a writing inscribed with the name of Seth and dealing with the appearance of this star and the gifts to be offered. This writing was handed down from father to son through successive generations, and twelve of the most studious men of their number were chosen to watch for the coming of the star, and whenever one died, another was chosen in his place. They were called Magi in their language because they glorified God silently. Every year after the threshing[Pg 475] of the harvest they climbed a mountain to a cave with delightful springs shaded by carefully selected trees. There they washed themselves and for three days in silence prayed and praised God. Finally one year the star appeared in the form of a little child with the likeness of a cross above it; and it spoke with them and taught them and instructed them to set out for Judea.[2045] When they had set out, it went before them for two years, during which time food and drink were never lacking in their wallets. On their return they worshiped and glorified God more sedulously than ever and preached to their people. Finally, after the resurrection, the apostle Thomas visited that region and they were baptized by him and were made his assistant preachers. This tale is indeed pleasing enough, and it saves the Magi from all imputation of magic arts and employment of demons and even denies that they were astrologers. But as a device to escape the natural inference from the Gospel story that the birth of Christ was announced by the stars and in a way which astronomers could comprehend it is certainly far-fetched, and shows how Christian theologians were put to it to find a way out of the difficulty. The homily goes on to advance some of the usual arguments against astrology, such as that the stars cannot cause evil, that the human will is free, and that a science of individual horoscopes cannot account for all men worshiping idols before Christ and abandoning idolatry and other ancient customs thereafter, or for the perishing in the deluge of all men except the family of Noah, or for national customs such as circumcision among the Jews and incest among the Persians. Here we again probably see the influence of Bardesanes.

The other sermon attributed to Chrysostom restates some of the points made in the authentic sermon but adds others. The preacher has read somewhere, maybe in Origen where we've encountered the idea before, that the Magi learned about the star’s appearance from the writings of the diviner Balaam, “whose prophecy is also included in the Old Testament: ‘A star shall rise from Jacob and a man shall come forth from Israel, and he shall rule all nations.’” However, the preacher doesn’t explain why it’s better to have such a prediction from a diviner rather than an astrologer. The preacher has also heard some reference a text, which isn’t definitely authentic but is still not harmful to the Faith and is rather appealing, claiming that in the far east along the ocean’s shores lives a people who have a document inscribed with the name of Seth that discusses the appearance of this star and the gifts to be presented. This document was passed down from generation to generation, and twelve of the most studious among them were chosen to watch for the star’s appearance; whenever one died, another was selected to take his place. They were called Magi in their language because they silently glorified God. Every year after the harvest, they climbed a mountain to a cave with beautiful springs shaded by carefully chosen trees. There, they washed themselves and prayed in silence for three days to praise God. Then, one year, the star appeared as a small child with a cross above it; it communicated with them and taught them, instructing them to head for Judea. When they set out, it led them for two years, during which time their wallets were never short of food and drink. Upon their return, they worshiped and glorified God more fervently than ever and preached to their people. Eventually, after the resurrection, the apostle Thomas visited that area, and they were baptized by him, becoming his assistant preachers. This story is certainly enjoyable and clears the Magi of any association with magic arts and demons, even denying that they were astrologers. However, as a way to evade the clear implication from the Gospel that Christ’s birth was heralded by the stars in a manner that astronomers could understand, it seems quite stretched, reflecting how Christian theologians struggled to find a solution to this challenge. The sermon continues to present some typical arguments against astrology, such as the notion that stars cannot cause evil, that human will is free, and that a science based on individual horoscopes cannot explain why all people worshiped idols before Christ and later abandoned idolatry and other ancient practices, or why only Noah's family survived the flood, or why customs like circumcision existed among the Jews and incest among the Persians. Here, we likely see the influence of Bardesanes.

Number, names, and home of the Magi.

We have already noted that Origen seems to have been the first of the fathers to state the number of the Magi as[Pg 476] three, whereas the homily just considered implies that there were twelve of them. Their representation in art as three in number did not become general until the fourth century,[2046] while the depiction of them as kings was also a gradual and, according to Kehrer, later growth.[2047] Bouché-Leclercq, citing an earlier monograph,[2048] states that the royalty of the Magi was invented towards the sixth century to show the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies,[2049] and that Bede is the first who knows their names. But Mâle says, “Their mysterious names are first found in a Greek chronicle of the beginning of the sixth century translated into Latin by a Merovingian monk,” and are “Bithisarea, Melichior, Gathaspa.”[2050] The provenance of the Magi was variously stated by the Christian fathers:[2051] Arabia according to Justin Martyr, Epiphanius, and Tertullian or Pseudo-Tertullian; Persia according to Clement of Alexandria, Basil, and Cyril; Persia or Chaldea according to Chrysostom and Diodorus of Tarsus; Chaldea according to Jerome and Augustine and the philosopher Chalcidius in his commentary upon Plato’s Timaeus.[2052] The homily which we were just considering gave the impression that they came from India.

We have already noted that Origen seems to have been the first of the church fathers to say that the number of the Magi was[Pg 476] three, while the homily we just looked at suggests there were actually twelve. Their depiction in art as three didn’t become common until the fourth century,[2046] and the portrayal of them as kings was also a slow development, according to Kehrer.[2047] Bouché-Leclercq, referencing an earlier study,[2048] notes that the idea of the Magi being royalty emerged around the sixth century to illustrate the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies,[2049] and that Bede is the first to mention their names. However, Mâle states, “Their mysterious names are first found in a Greek chronicle from the early sixth century, later translated into Latin by a Merovingian monk,” and these names are “Bithisarea, Melichior, Gathaspa.”[2050] The origins of the Magi were described differently by early Christian fathers:[2051] Arabia according to Justin Martyr, Epiphanius, and Tertullian or Pseudo-Tertullian; Persia according to Clement of Alexandria, Basil, and Cyril; Persia or Chaldea according to Chrysostom and Diodorus of Tarsus; Chaldea according to Jerome, Augustine, and the philosopher Chalcidius in his commentary on Plato’s Timaeus.[2052] The homily we just considered suggested that they came from India.

Liturgical drama of the Magi: The Three Kings of Cologne.

In the middle ages the Magi appeared in liturgical drama as well as in art. An early instance is a tenth century lectionary from Compiègne, now preserved at Paris,[2053] where[Pg 477] after homilies by various fathers there is added in a hand only slightly later the liturgical drama of the adoration of the Magi. In the later middle ages there came into existence the History or Deeds of the Three Kings of Cologne, as the Magi came to be called from the supposed translation of their relics to that city. Their bodies were said to have been brought by the empress Helena from India to Constantinople, whence they were transferred to Milan, and after its destruction by Barbarossa, to Cologne. This “fabulous narration,” as it has well been entitled,[2054] also has much to say of the miracles of the apostle Thomas in India and of Prester John, to whom we shall devote a later chapter. It asserts that the three kings reached Jerusalem on the thirteenth day after Christ’s birth by a miraculously rapid transit by day and by night of themselves and their armies to the marvel of the inhabitants of the towns through which they passed, or rather, flew.[2055] After they had returned home and had successively migrated to Christ above, another apparition of a star marked this fact.[2056] The treatise exists in many manuscripts[2057] and was printed more than once before 1500.

In the Middle Ages, the Magi were featured in both liturgical drama and art. One of the earliest examples is a tenth-century lectionary from Compiègne, which is now kept in Paris,[2053] where[Pg 477] after homilies by various church fathers, there’s an added liturgical drama about the Magi’s adoration in a slightly later hand. In the later Middle Ages, the History or Deeds of the Three Kings of Cologne came into existence, named after the supposed transfer of their relics to that city. It was said that Empress Helena brought their bodies from India to Constantinople, and from there they were moved to Milan, and after its destruction by Barbarossa, to Cologne. This “fabulous narration,” as it has aptly been called,[2054] also discusses the miracles of the Apostle Thomas in India and Prester John, to whom we will dedicate a later chapter. It claims that the three kings arrived in Jerusalem on the thirteenth day after Christ’s birth after miraculously traveling rapidly both during the day and night, astonishing the people in the towns they passed through, or rather, flew through.[2055] After their return home and their subsequent ascent to Christ, another star appeared to mark this event.[2056] The treatise exists in many manuscripts[2057] and was printed several times before 1500.

[Pg 478]

[Pg 478]

Another homily on the Magi.

Finally we may note the contents of the homily on the Magi which immediately precedes the liturgical drama concerning them in the above mentioned tenth century lectionary.[2058] The Magi are said to have come on the thirteenth day of Christ’s nativity. That they came from the Orient was fitting since they sought one of whom it had been written, Ecce vir oriens. It was also fitting that Christ’s coming should be announced to shepherds of Israel by a rational angel, to Gentile Magi by an irrational star. This star appeared neither in the starry heaven nor on earth but in the air; it had not existed before and ceased to exist after it had fulfilled its function. Although he has just said that the star appeared in the air and not in the sky, the preacher now adds that when a new man was born in the world it was fitting that a new star should appear in the sky. He also, in pointing out how all the elements recognized that their Creator had come into the world, states that the sky sent a star, the sea allowed Him to walk upon it, the sun was darkened, stones were broken and the earth quaked when He died.

Finally, we should note the contents of the homily on the Magi that directly precedes the liturgical drama about them in the previously mentioned tenth-century lectionary.[2058] The Magi are said to have arrived on the thirteenth day after Christ’s birth. Their coming from the East was appropriate since they sought the one of whom it was written, Ecce vir oriens. It was also fitting that Christ’s arrival was announced to the shepherds of Israel by a rational angel, while Gentile Magi were guided by an irrational star. This star appeared not in the starry sky nor on the ground but in the air; it hadn’t existed before and disappeared after it had served its purpose. Even though it was previously stated that the star appeared in the air and not in the sky, the preacher now adds that when a new man was born into the world, it was suitable for a new star to appear in the sky. He also points out that all elements recognized that their Creator had come into the world, noting that the sky sent a star, the sea let Him walk on it, the sun was darkened, stones were shattered, and the earth trembled when He died.

Priscillianists answered.

Since the heretics known as Priscillianists have adduced the star at Christ’s birth to prove that every man is born under the fates of the stars, the preacher endeavors to answer them. He holds that since the star came to where Jesus lay He controlled it rather than vice versa. Then follow the usual arguments against genethlialogy that many men born under the sign Aquarius are not fishermen, that sons of serfs are born at the same time as princes, and the[Pg 479] case of Jacob and Esau. The star was merely a sign to the Magi and by its twinkling illuminated their minds to seek the new-born babe. It seems scarcely consistent that a star which the preacher has called irrational should illuminate minds.

Since the heretics known as Priscillianists have used the star at Christ’s birth to argue that everyone is born under the influence of the stars, the preacher tries to respond to them. He argues that since the star came to where Jesus was, He controlled it rather than the other way around. Then he presents the usual arguments against astrology: many people born under the sign Aquarius are not fishermen, the sons of serfs are born at the same time as princes, and the case of Jacob and Esau. The star was just a sign for the Magi and its brightness helped them realize they should seek the new-born child. It seems inconsistent that a star, which the preacher described as irrational, would illuminate minds.

Number and race of the Magi again.

The homily goes on to say that opinions differ as to who the Magi were and whence they came. Owing to the prophecy that the kings of Tarsus and the isles offer presents, the kings of the Arabs and Sheba bring gifts, some regard Tarsus, Arabia, and Sheba as the homes of the Magi. Others call them Persians or Chaldeans, since Chaldeans are skilled in astronomy. Others say that they were descendants of Balaam. At any rate they were the first Gentiles to seek Christ and they are well said to have been three, symbolizing faith in the Trinity, the three virtues, faith, hope and charity, the three safeguards against evil, thoughts, words and works, and the three Gentile contributions to the Faith of physics, ethics, and logic, or natural, moral, and rational philosophy. The preacher then indulges in further allegorical interpretation anent Herod and what was typified by the gifts of the Magi.[2059]

The sermon continues by noting that there's a variety of opinions about who the Magi were and where they came from. Based on the prophecy that the kings of Tarsus and the islands will present gifts, and that the kings of Arabia and Sheba will bring offerings, some believe that Tarsus, Arabia, and Sheba were the homelands of the Magi. Others identify them as Persians or Chaldeans, because Chaldeans were known for their skills in astronomy. Some even suggest they were descendants of Balaam. Regardless, they were the first non-Jews to seek Christ, and it's often said there were three of them, representing faith in the Trinity, the three virtues of faith, hope, and charity, the three protections against evil—thoughts, words, and actions—and the three contributions from Gentiles to the Faith: physics, ethics, and logic, or natural, moral, and rational philosophy. The preacher then goes on to explore more symbolic interpretations regarding Herod and the significance of the gifts from the Magi. [2059]


[Pg 480]

[Pg 480]

CHAPTER XXI
CHRISTIANITY AND NATURAL SCIENCE: BASIL, EPIPHANIUS, AND THE PHYSIOLOGUS

Lactantius not a fair example—Commentaries on the Biblical account of creation—Date and delivery of Basil’s Hexaemeron—The Hexaemeron of Ambrose—Basil’s medieval influence—Science and religion—Scientific curiosity of Basil’s audience—Allusions to amusements—Conflicts with Greek science—Agreement with Greek science—Qualification of the Scriptural account of creation—The four elements and four qualities—Enthusiasm for nature as God’s work—Sin and nature—Habits of animals—Marvels of nature—Spontaneous generation—Lack of scientific scepticism—Sun worship and astrology—Permanence of species—Final impression from the Hexaemeron—The Medicine Chest of Epiphanius—Gems in the high priest’s breastplate—Some other gems—The so-called Physiologus; problem of its origin—Does the title apply to any one particular treatise?—And to what sort of a treatise?—Medieval art shows almost no symbolic influence of the PhysiologusPhysiologus was more natural scientist than allegorist.

Lactantius isn't a great example—Commentaries on the Biblical story of creation—Date and release of Basil’s Hexaemeron—The Hexaemeron of Ambrose—Basil’s influence during the medieval period—Science and faith—Scientific curiosity of Basil’s audience—References to entertainment—Conflicts with Greek science—Agreements with Greek science—Clarification of the Scriptural story of creation—The four elements and four qualities—Enthusiasm for nature as God’s creation—Sin and nature—Behaviors of animals—Wonders of nature—Spontaneous generation—Lack of scientific skepticism—Sun worship and astrology—Stability of species—Overall impression from the Hexaemeron—The Medicine Chest of Epiphanius—Gems in the high priest’s breastplate—Some other gems—The so-called Physiologus; question of its origins—Does the title refer to any specific writing?—And to what kind of writing?—Medieval art shows almost no symbolic influence of the PhysiologusPhysiologus was more of a natural scientist than an allegorist.

Lactantius not a fair example.

The opposition of early Christian thought to natural science has been rather unduly exaggerated. For instance, Lactantius, one of the least favorable to Greek philosophy and natural science of the fathers, should hardly be cited as typical of early Christian attitude in such matters. Nor does his opposition impress one as weighty.[2060] He ridicules the theory of the Antipodes,[2061] which he perhaps understands[Pg 481] none too well, asking if anyone can be so inept as to think that there are men whose feet are above their heads, although he knows very well that Greek science teaches that all weights fall towards the center of the earth, and that consequently if the feet are nearer the center of the earth that they must be below the head. He continues, however, to insist that the philosophers are either very stupid, or just joking, or arguing for the sake of arguing, and he declares that he could show by many arguments that the heaven cannot possibly be lower than the earth—which no one has asserted except himself—if it were not already time to close his third book and begin the fourth. Apparently Lactantius is the one who is arguing for the sake of arguing, or just joking, or else very stupid, and I fear it is the last. But other Christian fathers were less dense, and we already have heard the cultured pagan Plutarch scoff at the notion of a spherical earth and of antipodes. We may grant, however, that the ecclesiastical writers of the Roman Empire and early medieval period normally treat of spiritual rather than material themes and discuss them in a religious rather than a scientific manner.

The opposition of early Christian thought to natural science has been pretty exaggerated. For example, Lactantius, who was one of the least supportive of Greek philosophy and natural science among the early church fathers, shouldn't really be seen as representative of early Christian views on these topics. His objections don't seem very strong. He mocks the idea of the Antipodes, which he might not fully understand, asking if anyone can be so foolish as to think there are people whose feet are above their heads, even though he knows that Greek science teaches that all weights fall toward the center of the earth, meaning if the feet are closer to the center, they must be below the head. Still, he insists that philosophers are either very foolish, just joking, or trying to argue for argument's sake, claiming he could present many arguments proving that heaven cannot possibly be lower than earth—which nobody has claimed except him—if it weren't already time to finish his third book and start the fourth. It seems that Lactantius is the one arguing for argument's sake, joking, or maybe quite foolish, and I fear it's the last option. However, other Christian fathers were sharper, and we’ve already heard the educated pagan Plutarch mock the idea of a spherical earth and antipodes. We can agree that the church writers of the Roman Empire and early medieval times typically focused on spiritual rather than material issues and discussed them in a religious rather than scientific way.

Commentaries on the Biblical account of creation.

But in the commentaries upon the books of the Bible which the fathers multiplied so voluminously it was necessary for them, if they began their labors with Genesis, to deal at the very start in the first verses of the first book of the Bible with an explanation of nature which at several points was in disagreement with the accepted theories of Greek philosophy and ancient science. Such comment upon the opening verses of Genesis sometimes developed into a separate treatise called Hexaemeron from the works of the six days of creation which it discussed. Of the various treatises of this type the Hexaemeron of Basil[2062] seems to have been both the best[2063] and the most influential, and will be considered by us as an example of Christian attitude towards[Pg 482] the natural science and, to some extent, the superstition of the ancient world.

But in the commentaries on the books of the Bible that the church fathers produced in huge quantities, it was necessary for them, if they started with Genesis, to address right away in the first verses of the first book of the Bible an explanation of nature that conflicted with the accepted theories of Greek philosophy and ancient science at several points. This commentary on the opening verses of Genesis sometimes developed into a separate work called Hexaemeron which discussed the works of the six days of creation. Among the various treatises of this type, Basil's Hexaemeron stands out as both the best and the most influential, and we will consider it as an example of the Christian perspective on[Pg 482] natural science and, to some extent, the superstition of the ancient world.

Date and delivery of Basil’s Hexaemeron.

Basil died on the first day of January, 379 A. D., and was born about 329. When or where the nine homilies which compose his Hexaemeron were preached is not known, but from an allusion to his bodily infirmity in the seventh homily and his forgetfulness the next day in Homily VIII we might infer that it was late in life. To all appearances these sermons were taken down and have reached us just as they were delivered to the people, to whose daily life Basil frequently adverts. The sermons were delivered early in the morning before the artisans in the audience went to their work and again at the close of the day and before the evening meal, since Basil sometimes speaks of the approach of darkness surprising him and of its consequently being time to stop.[2064] One of the surest indications either that the sermons were delivered extemporaneously, or that Basil was repeating with variations to suit the occasion and present audience sermons which he had delivered so often as to have practically memorized, occurs in the eighth homily where he starts to discuss land animals, forgetting that the last day he did not get to birds, but is presently brought to a realization of his omission by the actions of his audience and, after a pause and an apology, makes a fresh start upon birds. The Hexaemeron was highly praised by Basil’s contemporaries and was regarded as the best of his works by later Byzantine literary collectors and critics.

Basil died on January 1, 379 A.D., and was born around 329. It’s unclear when or where the nine homilies that make up his Hexaemeron were preached, but from a reference to his physical weakness in the seventh homily and his forgetfulness the following day in Homily VIII, we can infer that they were delivered later in his life. These sermons seem to have been recorded and have come down to us just as they were presented to the audience, which Basil often relates to everyday life. The sermons were given early in the morning before the workers in the audience headed to their jobs and again at the end of the day before the evening meal, since Basil sometimes mentions being surprised by the onset of darkness, signaling that it was time to stop. One clear sign that the sermons were delivered spontaneously, or that Basil was adjusting familiar sermons to fit the occasion and audience, appears in the eighth homily. He starts to talk about land animals but forgets that he didn’t get to birds the last time he spoke. He realizes his mistake through the audience's reactions, pauses to apologize, and then begins discussing birds. The Hexaemeron received high praise from Basil’s contemporaries and was regarded as his best work by later Byzantine literary collectors and critics.

The Hexaemeron of Ambrose.

Basil’s work, however, was not the first of its kind, as Hippolytus and Origen, at least, are known to have earlier composed similar treatises, and still earlier in the treatise[Pg 483] of Theophilus To Autolycus we find a few chapters[2065] devoted to the six days of creation. In one of his letters Jerome states that “Ambrose recently so compiled the Hexaemeron of Origen that he rather followed the views of Hippolytus and Basil.”[2066] This Latin work of Ambrose is extant and seems to me to follow Basil very closely. At times the order of presentation is slightly varied and the work of Ambrose is longer, but this is due to its more verbose rhetoric and greater indulgence in Biblical quotation, and not to the introduction of new ideas. The Benedictine editors of Ambrose admit that he has taken a great deal from Basil but deny that he has servilely imitated him.[2067] But a striking instance of such servile imitation is seen in Ambrose’s duplicating even Basil’s mistake in omitting to discuss birds and then apologizing for it, reminding one of the Chinese workman who made all the new dinner plates with a crack and a toothpick stuck in it, like the old broken plate which he had been given as a model. It is true that Ambrose does not first discuss land animals for a page as Basil did, but makes his apology more immediately. The opening words of the eighth sermon in the twelfth chapter of his fifth book are, “And after he had remained silent for a moment, again resuming his discourse, he said....” Then comes his apology, expressed in different terms from Basil’s and to the effect that in his previous discourse upon fishes he became so immersed in the depths of the sea as to forget all about birds. Thus the incident which in Basil had every appearance of a natural mistake, in Ambrose has all the earmarks of an affected imitation. It is barely possible, however, that Origen made the original mistake and that Basil and Ambrose have both imitated him in it. On the other hand, we are told that the Hexaemerons of Origen[Pg 484] and Basil differed fundamentally in this respect, that Origen indulged to a great extent in allegorical interpretation of the Mosaic account of creation,[2068] while Basil declares that he “takes all in the literal sense,” is “not ashamed of the Gospel,” and “admits the common sense of the Scriptures.”[2069]

Basil’s work, however, wasn’t the first of its kind. Hippolytus and Origen are known to have written similar treatises earlier, and even earlier, in Theophilus’s treatise To Autolycus, there are a few chapters[Pg 483] dedicated to the six days of creation. In one of his letters, Jerome mentions that “Ambrose recently compiled the Hexaemeron of Origen in such a way that he seemed to follow the ideas of Hippolytus and Basil.” This Latin work by Ambrose is still around and closely resembles Basil’s. The presentation may occasionally differ in order, and Ambrose’s work is longer but not because it introduces new ideas; it's longer due to more elaborate rhetoric and extensive Biblical quotes. The Benedictine editors of Ambrose acknowledge that he borrowed heavily from Basil but argue that he didn’t simply mimic him. However, a clear example of imitation is seen in Ambrose replicating Basil’s error of not discussing birds and then apologizing for it, much like a Chinese craftsman who creates new dinner plates with a flaw, just like the old broken plate he had as a reference. While it’s true that Ambrose doesn’t spend a page discussing land animals like Basil did, he makes his apology sooner. The opening lines of his eighth sermon in the twelfth chapter of his fifth book say, “And after he had paused for a moment, resuming his discourse, he said…” Then he makes his apology, phrased differently than Basil’s, saying that while discussing fish, he was so deep in thought about the ocean that he forgot all about birds. Thus, what appeared to be a natural mistake in Basil comes off as a deliberate imitation in Ambrose. It’s also possible that Origen made the original mistake and that both Basil and Ambrose followed his lead. On the other hand, we’re told that the Hexaemerons of Origen[Pg 484] and Basil fundamentally differed, with Origen often engaging in allegorical interpretations of the Biblical account of creation, while Basil insists that he “takes everything literally,” is “not ashamed of the Gospel,” and “embraces the common sense of the Scriptures.”

Basil’s medieval influence.

At any rate, Basil’s Hexaemeron seems to have supplanted all such previous treatises in Greek, while its western influence is shown not only by Ambrose’s imitation of it so soon after its production, but by Latin translations of it by Eustathius Afer in the fifth, and perhaps by Dionysius Exiguus in the sixth century. Medieval manuscripts of it are fairly numerous and sometimes of early date,[2070] and include an Anglo-Saxon epitome ascribed to Aelfric in the Bodleian Library. Bartholomew of England[2071] in the thirteenth century quotes “Rabanus who uses the words of Basil in the Hexaemeron” for a description of the empyrean heaven which I have been unable to find in the works of[Pg 485] either Rabanus or Basil. Bede, in a similar, though much abbreviated, work of his own, states that while many have said many things concerning the beginning of the Book of Genesis, the chief authorities, so far as he has been able to discover, are Basil of Caesarea, whom Eustathius translated from Greek into Latin, Ambrose of Milan, and Augustine, bishop of Hippo. These works, however, were so long and expensive that only the rich could afford to purchase them and so profound that only the learned could read and understand them. Bede had accordingly been requested to compose a brief rendition of them, which he does partly in his own words, partly in theirs.[2072]

At any rate, Basil’s Hexaemeron appears to have replaced all earlier Greek treatises, and its impact in the West is evident not only in Ambrose’s imitation shortly after it came out, but also in Latin translations by Eustathius Afer in the fifth century and possibly by Dionysius Exiguus in the sixth. There are quite a few medieval manuscripts of it, some dating back early, [2070] including an Anglo-Saxon summary attributed to Aelfric in the Bodleian Library. Bartholomew of England [2071] in the thirteenth century cites “Rabanus, who uses the words of Basil in the Hexaemeron” to describe the empyrean heaven, which I haven't been able to find in the works of [Pg 485] either Rabanus or Basil. Bede, in a similar but much shorter work, notes that while many have discussed the beginning of the Book of Genesis, the main authorities he could identify are Basil of Caesarea, whom Eustathius translated from Greek to Latin, Ambrose of Milan, and Augustine, bishop of Hippo. However, these works were so lengthy and costly that only the wealthy could afford them, and so complex that only the educated could read and comprehend them. Consequently, Bede was asked to create a brief version of them, which he does partly in his own words and partly in theirs. [2072]

Science and religion.

The general tenor of Basil’s treatise may be described as follows. He accepts the literal sense of the first chapter of Genesis as a correct account of the universe, and, when he finds Greek philosophy and science in disagreement with the Biblical narrative, inveighs against the futilities and follies and conflicting theories and excessive elaborations of the philosophers. On such occasions the simple statements of Scripture are sufficient for him. “Upon the essence of the heavens we are contented with what Isaiah says.... In the same way, as concerns the earth, let us resolve not to torment ourselves by trying to find out its essence.... At all events let us prefer the simplicity of faith to the demonstrations of reason.”[2073] These three quotations illustrate his attitude at such times. But at all other times he is apt to follow Greek science rather implicitly, accepting without question its hypothesis of four elements and four qualities, and taking all his details about birds, beasts, and fish from the same source.

The overall message of Basil’s treatise can be summarized like this. He views the literal interpretation of the first chapter of Genesis as an accurate description of the universe, and when he encounters disagreements between Greek philosophy and science and the Biblical story, he criticizes the uselessness, absurdities, competing theories, and overcomplications of the philosophers. In those moments, he finds the straightforward statements of Scripture to be enough. “Regarding the essence of the heavens, we are satisfied with what Isaiah says.... Similarly, concerning the earth, let's not stress ourselves trying to uncover its essence.... Ultimately, let’s prefer the simplicity of faith over the reasoning of demonstrations.”[2073] These three quotes reflect his stance during those times. However, during other moments, he tends to follow Greek science rather closely, accepting its hypothesis of four elements and four qualities without question, and getting all his details about birds, beasts, and fish from the same sources.

Scientific curiosity of Basil’s audience.

Moreover, while Basil may affirm that the edification of the church is his sole aim and interest, it is evident that his audience are possessed by a lively scientific curiosity,[Pg 486] and that they wish to hear a great deal more about natural phenomena than Isaiah or any other Biblical author has to offer them. “What trouble you have given me in my previous discourses,” exclaims Basil in his fourth homily, “by asking me why the earth was invisible, why all bodies are naturally endued with color, and why all color comes under the sense of sight? And perhaps my reason did not appear sufficient to you.... Perhaps you will ask me new questions.” Basil gratifies this curiosity concerning the world of nature with many details not mentioned in the Bible but drawn from such works as Aristotle’s Meteorology and History of Animals. This scientific curiosity displayed by Basil’s hearers is the more interesting in that artisans who had to labor for their daily bread appear to have made up a large element in his audience.[2074] It is perhaps on their account that Basil often speaks of God as the supreme artisan or artificer or artist,[2075] or calls their attention to “the vast and varied workshop of divine creation,”[2076] and makes other flattering allusions to arts which support life or produce enduring work, and to waterways and sea trade.[2077] He also seems to have a sincere appreciation of the arts and admiration of beauty, which he twice defines.[2078]

Moreover, while Basil claims that his only goal is to build up the church, it’s clear that his audience is filled with a lively scientific curiosity,[Pg 486] and they want to learn much more about natural phenomena than what Isaiah or any other Biblical author can provide. “What trouble you’ve caused me in my previous talks,” Basil exclaims in his fourth homily, “by asking why the earth is invisible, why all bodies naturally have color, and why all color can be perceived by sight? And maybe my explanations didn’t seem satisfactory to you.... Maybe you’ll ask me new questions.” Basil satisfies this curiosity about the natural world with many details not found in the Bible but taken from works like Aristotle’s Meteorology and History of Animals. The scientific curiosity shown by Basil’s listeners is especially interesting since it appears that many of them were artisans who had to work hard to earn a living.[2074] Perhaps because of this, Basil frequently refers to God as the supreme artisan or artist,[2075] or highlights “the vast and varied workshop of divine creation,”[2076] along with other flattering references to the arts that sustain life or create lasting work, as well as to waterways and maritime trade.[2077] He also seems to genuinely appreciate the arts and admire beauty, which he defines on two occasions.[2078]

Allusions to amusements.

At the risk of digression, it is perhaps worth noting further that Basil’s hearers seem to have been very familiar with, not to say fond of, the amusements common in the cities of the Roman Empire. Twice he opens his sermons with allusions to the athletes of the circus and actors of the theater,[2079] apparently as the surest way of quickly catching the attention of his audience, while on a third occasion, in concluding his morning address on what appears to have been a holiday, he remarks that if he had dismissed them earlier, some would have spent the rest of the day gambling with dice, and that “the longer I keep you, the longer you are out of the way of mischief.”[2080] He also alludes to the[Pg 487] spinning of tops and to what was apparently the game of push-ball.[2081]

At the risk of going off-topic, it’s worth mentioning that Basil’s listeners seemed very familiar with, if not fond of, the entertainment typical in the cities of the Roman Empire. He starts his sermons twice with references to circus athletes and theater actors, apparently as the best way to grab his audience's attention quickly. On a third occasion, while wrapping up his morning talk on what seems to have been a holiday, he notes that if he had let them go earlier, some would have spent the rest of the day gambling with dice, adding, “the longer I keep you, the longer you’re out of trouble.” He also mentions spinning tops and what looks like the game of push-ball.

Conflicts with Greek science.

Taking up the contents of the Hexaemeron more in detail, we may first note those points upon which Basil supports the statements of the Bible against Greek science and philosophy. He of course insists that the universe was created by God and is not co-existent, much less identical, with Him.[2082] He also denies that the form of the world alone is due to God and that matter is of separate origin.[2083] Nor will he accept the arguments of the philosophers who “would rather lose their tongues” than admit that there is more than one heaven. Basil is ready to believe not merely in a second, but a third heaven, such as the apostle Paul speaks of being rapt to. He regards a plurality of heavens as no more difficult to credit than the seven concentric spheres of the planets, and as much more probable than the philosophic theory of the music of the spheres which he decries as “ingenious frivolity, the untruth of which is evident from the first word.”[2084] He also defends the statement of Scripture that there are waters above the firmament, not only against the doctrines of ancient astronomy,[2085] but also against “certain writers in the church,” among whom he probably has Origen in mind, who interpret the passage figuratively and assert that the waters stand for “spiritual and incorporeal powers,” those above the firmament representing good angels and those below the firmament standing for evil demons. “Let us reject these theories as we would the interpretations of dreams and old-wives’ tales.”[2086]

Taking a closer look at the contents of the Hexaemeron, we can first highlight the points where Basil aligns the Bible's statements against Greek science and philosophy. He firmly asserts that the universe was created by God and is not co-existing or even identical with Him.[2082] He also denies that the world's form comes solely from God, arguing that matter does not have a separate origin.[2083] He will not accept the philosophers' arguments who "would rather lose their tongues" than admit there is more than one heaven. Basil believes not just in a second heaven, but a third one as well, as mentioned by the apostle Paul. He thinks having multiple heavens is no harder to believe than the seven concentric spheres of the planets and is much more likely than the philosophical idea of the music of the spheres, which he dismisses as "ingenious nonsense, the falsehood of which is clear from the very first word."[2084] He also defends the Biblical assertion that there are waters above the firmament, not just against ancient astronomy's teachings,[2085] but also against "certain writers in the church," likely referring to Origen, who interpret this passage figuratively, claiming the waters represent "spiritual and incorporeal powers," with those above the firmament symbolizing good angels and those below representing evil demons. “Let us reject these theories as we would the interpretations of dreams and old wives' tales.”[2086]

In connection with Basil’s defense of the plurality of the heavens it may be noted that R. H. Charles presents evidence to show “that speculations or definitely formulated views on the plurality of the heavens were rife in the very cradle of Christendom and throughout its entire development,” and that “the prevailing view was that of the seven[Pg 488]fold division of the heavens.”[2087] He fails, however, to discriminate between the doctrine of Greek philosophy that the universe was one, although the circles of the planets are seven, and the plurality of the heavens, which Basil insists that the philosophers deny; and very probably the Jewish and early Christian notions of successive heavens full of angels and spirits developed from the spheres of the planets. Among the various early heresies described by the fathers are also found, of course, many allusions to these seven spheres or heavens. The disciples of Valentinus, for example, according to Irenaeus and Epiphanius, “affirm that these seven heavens are intelligent and speak of them as angels ... and declare that Paradise, situated above the third heaven, is a powerful angel.”[2088]

In relation to Basil’s defense of the idea of multiple heavens, it's worth noting that R. H. Charles provides evidence indicating “that speculations or clearly defined views on the plurality of the heavens were widespread in the very beginnings of Christianity and throughout its development,” and that “the common belief was in the seven[Pg 488]fold division of the heavens.” [2087] However, he does not differentiate between the Greek philosophical doctrine that the universe is one, even though the orbits of the planets are seven, and the concept of multiple heavens, which Basil argues that philosophers reject; and it’s likely that Jewish and early Christian ideas of successive heavens filled with angels and spirits evolved from the planetary spheres. Among the early heresies described by the Church Fathers, there are also many references to these seven spheres or heavens. The followers of Valentinus, for instance, as reported by Irenaeus and Epiphanius, “claim that these seven heavens are sentient and refer to them as angels ... and assert that Paradise, located above the third heaven, is a mighty angel.” [2088]

Agreement with Greek science.

On the other hand, we may note some points where Basil is in accord with Greek science. He warns his hearers not to “be surprised that the world never falls; it occupies the center of the universe, its natural place.”[2089] He advances numerous proofs of the immense size of the sun and moon.[2090] He accepts the hypothesis of four elements but abstains from passing judgment upon the question of a fifth element of which the heavens and celestial bodies may be composed.[2091] He thinks that “it needs not the space of a moment for light to pass through” the ether.[2092]

On the other hand, we can point out areas where Basil aligns with Greek science. He cautions his audience not to “be surprised that the world never falls; it occupies the center of the universe, its natural place.”[2089] He offers various proofs of the vast size of the sun and moon.[2090] He accepts the idea of four elements but refrains from commenting on the existence of a fifth element that might make up the heavens and celestial bodies.[2091] He believes that “it doesn’t take even a moment for light to travel through” the ether.[2092]

Qualification of the Scriptural account of creation.

Moreover, Basil finds it necessary to qualify some of the statements in the first chapter of Genesis. He interprets the command, “Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place,” to apply only to the sea or ocean, which he contends is one body of water, and not to pools and lakes,[2093] recognizing that otherwise “our explanation of the creation of the world may appear contrary to experience, because it is evident that all the waters did not flow together in one place.” In this connection he[Pg 489] states that “although some authorities think that the Hyrcanian and Caspian Seas are enclosed in their own boundaries, if we are to believe the geographers, they communicate with each other and together discharge themselves into the Great Sea.” He speaks of “the vast ocean, so dreaded by navigators, which surrounds the isle of Britain and western Spain.”[2094] Later he contends that “sea water is the source of all the moisture of the earth.”[2095] He has also to meet the following objection made to the eleventh and twelfth verses of the first chapter of Genesis: “How then, they say, can Scripture describe all the plants of the earth as seed-bearing, when the reed, couch-grass, mint, crocus, garlic, and the flowering rush and countless other species produce no seed? To this we reply that many vegetables have their seminal virtue in the lower part and in the roots.”[2096]

Moreover, Basil finds it necessary to clarify some of the statements in the first chapter of Genesis. He interprets the command, “Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place,” to refer only to the sea or ocean, which he claims is a single body of water, and not to ponds and lakes, recognizing that otherwise “our explanation of the creation of the world may seem contrary to experience, because it is clear that all the waters did not flow together in one place.” In this connection, he[Pg 489] states that “although some authorities believe that the Hyrcanian and Caspian Seas are contained within their own boundaries, if we are to trust the geographers, they connect with each other and together flow into the Great Sea.” He mentions “the vast ocean, which is feared by navigators, surrounding the isle of Britain and western Spain.”[2094] Later, he argues that “sea water is the source of all the moisture of the earth.”[2095] He also addresses the following objection raised about the eleventh and twelfth verses of the first chapter of Genesis: “How then, they say, can Scripture describe all the plants of the earth as seed-bearing, when the reed, couch-grass, mint, crocus, garlic, and the flowering rush and countless other species produce no seed? To this we respond that many plants have their reproductive ability in the lower part and in the roots.”[2096]

The four elements and four qualities.

Basil regards the words of Genesis, “God called the dry land earth,” as a recognition of the fact that drought is the primal property of earth, as humidity is of air; cold, of water; and heat, of fire. He adds, however, that “our eyes and senses can find nothing which is completely singular, simple, and pure. Earth is at the same time dry and cold; water, cold and moist; air, moist and warm; fire, warm and dry.”[2097] Indeed, as he has already stated in the previous homily, the mixture of elements in actual objects is even more intricate than this last sentence might seem to indicate. Every element is in every other, and we not only do not perceive with our senses any pure elements but not even any compounds of two elements only.[2098]

Basil sees the words of Genesis, “God called the dry land earth,” as an acknowledgment that drought is the fundamental characteristic of earth, just as humidity is for air; cold is for water; and heat is for fire. He also notes that “our eyes and senses can find nothing that is completely unique, simple, and pure. Earth is both dry and cold; water is cold and moist; air is moist and warm; fire is warm and dry.”[2097] Indeed, as he already mentioned in the previous homily, the combination of elements in real objects is even more complex than this last statement might suggest. Every element exists within every other, and we not only fail to perceive any pure elements with our senses but also do not even notice compounds made up of just two elements.[2098]

Enthusiasm for nature as God’s work.

Basil is alive to the absorbing interest of the world of nature and to the marvelous intricacies of natural science. He tells his hearers that as “anyone not knowing a town is taken by the hand and led through it,” so he will guide them “through the mysterious marvels of this great city of the universe.”[2099] As he had said in the preceding homily, “A[Pg 490] single plant, a blade of grass is sufficient to occupy all your intelligence in the contemplation of the skill which produced it.”[2100] He sees “great wisdom in small things.”[2101] Thus by the argument from design he is apt to work back from nature to the Creator, so that his enthusiasm cannot be regarded as purely scientific. Going a step farther than Galen’s argument from design, he contends that “not a single thing has been created without reason; not a single thing is useless.”[2102]

Basil is attuned to the captivating beauty of nature and the amazing details of natural science. He shares with his listeners that just as “anyone unfamiliar with a town is guided by the hand through it,” he will lead them “through the mysterious wonders of this vast universe.”[2099] As he mentioned in the previous sermon, “A[Pg 490] single plant, a blade of grass is enough to engage all your intellect in contemplating the skill that created it.”[2100] He recognizes “great wisdom in small things.”[2101] Thus, using the argument from design, he tends to trace back from nature to the Creator, so his enthusiasm cannot be seen as merely scientific. Going beyond Galen’s argument from design, he argues that “not a single thing has been created without purpose; not a single thing is useless.”[2102]

Sin and nature.

Basil also cherishes the notion, which we have already found both in pagan and Christian writers, that human sin leaves its stain or has its effect upon nature. The rose was without thorns before the fall of man, and their addition to its beauty serves to remind us that “sorrow is very near to pleasure.”[2103]

Basil also values the idea, which we’ve seen in both pagan and Christian writers, that human sin leaves a mark or impacts nature. The rose had no thorns before the fall of man, and their presence alongside its beauty reminds us that “sorrow is very close to pleasure.”[2103]

Habits of animals.

Basil discusses the habits of animals largely in order to draw moral lessons from them for human beings and he has several passages in the style supposed to be characteristic of the Physiologus. But he also refers in a number of places to the ability of animals to find remedies with which to cure themselves of ailments and injuries, or to their power of divining the future. The sea-urchin foretells storms; sheep and goats discern danger by instinct alone. The starling eats hemlock and digests it “before its chill can attack the vital parts”; and the quail is able to feed on hellebore. The wounded bear nurses himself, filling his wounds with mullein, an astringent plant; “the fox heals his wounds with droppings from the pine tree”; the tortoise counteracts the venom of the vipers it has eaten by means of the herb marjoram; and “the serpent heals sore eyes by eating fennel.”[2104]

Basil talks about animal behaviors mainly to draw moral lessons for humans, and he has several sections that are typical of the Physiologus. However, he also mentions various instances of animals finding ways to heal themselves from injuries and sickness, or their ability to sense the future. The sea urchin predicts storms; sheep and goats recognize danger purely by instinct. The starling eats hemlock and can digest it “before its chill can harm the vital parts,” and the quail can eat hellebore. The wounded bear takes care of itself by using mullein, a plant that helps with bleeding; “the fox treats its wounds with droppings from the pine tree”; the tortoise counters the venom of the vipers it has consumed with the herb marjoram; and “the serpent cures sore eyes by eating fennel.”[2104]

Marvels of nature.

Indeed, far from being led by his acquaintance with Greek science into doubting the marvelous, Basil finds “in nature a thousand reasons for believing in the marvelous.”[2105] He is ready to ascribe astounding powers to animals, and[Pg 491] believes, like Pliny, that “the greatest vessels, sailing with full sails, are easily stopped by a tiny fish.”[2106] He tells us that nature endowed the lion with such loud and forceful vocal organs “that often much swifter animals are caught by his roaring alone.”[2107] He also repeats in charming style the familiar story of the halcyon days. The halcyon lays its eggs along the shore in mid-winter when violent winds dash the waves against the land. Yet winds are hushed and waves are calm during the seven days that the halcyon sits, and then, after its young are hatched and in need of food, “God in his munificence grants another seven days to this tiny animal. All sailors know this and call these days halcyon days.”[2108]

Indeed, rather than being led to doubt the incredible by his knowledge of Greek science, Basil finds “a thousand reasons in nature to believe in the incredible.”[2105] He is ready to attribute amazing abilities to animals and[Pg 491] believes, like Pliny, that “the largest ships, sailing with full sails, can easily be stopped by a tiny fish.”[2106] He tells us that nature gave the lion such loud and powerful vocal cords “that often much faster animals are caught just by his roar.”[2107] He also charmingly repeats the well-known story of the halcyon days. The halcyon lays its eggs on the shore in mid-winter when fierce winds crash the waves against the land. Yet the winds are calm and the waves are still during the seven days that the halcyon sits, and then, after its young are hatched and need food, “God in His generosity grants another seven days to this tiny creature. All sailors know this and call these days halcyon days.”[2108]

Spontaneous generation.

Like most ancient scientists, Basil believes that some animals are spontaneously generated. “Many birds have no need of union with males to conceive,” a circumstance which should make it easy for us to believe in the Virgin birth of Christ.[2109] Grasshoppers and other nameless insects and sometimes frogs and mice are “born from the earth itself,” and “mud alone produces eels,”[2110] a theory not much more amazing than the assertion of modern biologists that eels spawn only in the Mediterranean Sea. Basil states that “in the environs of Thebes in Egypt after abundant rain in hot weather the country is covered with field mice,” but without noting that abundant rain in upper Egypt in hot weather would itself be in the nature of a miracle.

Like most ancient scientists, Basil thinks that some animals come into being on their own. “Many birds don’t need to mate with males to conceive,” which should make it easy for us to believe in the Virgin birth of Christ.[2109] Grasshoppers and other unknown insects, as well as some frogs and mice, are “born from the earth itself,” and “mud alone produces eels,”[2110] a theory that isn't much more surprising than the claim by modern biologists that eels spawn only in the Mediterranean Sea. Basil mentions that “in the vicinity of Thebes in Egypt, after heavy rain in hot weather, the area is covered with field mice,” but fails to point out that heavy rain in Upper Egypt during hot weather would itself be considered a miracle.

Lack of scientific scepticism.

Basil is less sceptical than Apollonius of Tyana in regard to the birth of lions and of vipers, repeating unquestioningly the statement that the viper gnaws its way out of its mother’s womb, and that the lioness bears only one whelp because it tears her with its claws.[2111] Of purely scientific scepticism there is, indeed, little in the Hexaemeron. Basil does, however, question one of the powers ascribed to magicians, and this is his only mention of the magic[Pg 492] art. Discussing the immense size of the moon and its great influence upon terrestrial nature, he declares ridiculous the old-wives’ tales which have been circulated everywhere that magic incantations “can remove the moon from its place and make it descend to the earth.”[2112]

Basil is less skeptical than Apollonius of Tyana about the birth of lions and vipers, accepting without question the claim that a viper gnaws its way out of its mother’s womb and that a lioness only gives birth to one cub because it claws her from the inside. [2111] There is, in fact, very little scientific skepticism in the Hexaemeron. However, Basil does question one of the powers attributed to magicians, marking his only reference to magic. When discussing the enormous size of the moon and its significant effect on the earth, he ridicules the old wives' tales that have been widely spread, claiming that magic spells “can move the moon from its place and bring it down to earth.” [2112]

Sun worship and astrology.

Sun worship still existed in Basil’s time and he hails the fact that the sun was not created until the fourth day, after both light and vegetation were in existence, as a severe blow to those who reverence the sun as the source of life.[2113] However, he does “not pretend to be able to separate light from the body of the sun.”[2114] Theophilus in his earlier discussion of creation had stated, perhaps copying Philo Judaeus, that the luminaries were not created until the fourth day, “because God, who possesses foreknowledge, knew the follies of the vain philosophers, that they were going to say, that the things which grow on earth are produced from the heavenly bodies”—which is, indeed, a fundamental hypothesis of astrology—“so as to exclude God. In order, therefore, that the truth might be obvious, the plants and seeds were produced prior to the heavenly bodies, for what is posterior cannot produce that which is prior.”[2115] Basil does not make this point against the rule of inferior creation by the heavenly bodies, but in a succeeding homily he feels it necessary to devote several paragraphs[2116] to refutation of the “vain science” of casting nativities, which some persons have justified by the words of God concerning sun, moon, and stars in the first chapter of Genesis, “And let them be for signs.” Basil questions if it be possible to determine the exact instant of birth, declares that to attribute to the constellations and signs of the zodiac the characteristics of animals is to subject them to external influences, and defends human free will in much the usual fashion. He is ready, however, to grant that “the variations of the moon do not take place without exerting great influence upon the organization of animals and of all living[Pg 493] things,” and that the moon makes “all nature participate in her changes.”[2117]

Sun worship was still present in Basil’s time, and he emphasizes that the sun was created only on the fourth day, after both light and vegetation had already existed, which serves as a significant challenge to those who revere the sun as the source of life.[2113] However, he does “not pretend to be able to separate light from the body of the sun.”[2114] Theophilus, in his earlier discussion of creation, suggested, perhaps following Philo Judaeus, that the celestial bodies were not created until the fourth day, “because God, who possesses foreknowledge, knew the follies of the vain philosophers, that they were going to say that the things that grow on earth are produced from the heavenly bodies”—which is indeed a fundamental premise of astrology—“to exclude God. Therefore, to make the truth evident, the plants and seeds were created before the heavenly bodies, for what comes later cannot produce what comes before.”[2115] Basil does not use this to negate the influence of the heavenly bodies on lower creation; however, in a later homily, he feels it necessary to spend several paragraphs[2116] refuting the “vain science” of astrology, which some people have justified by referring to God’s words about the sun, moon, and stars in the first chapter of Genesis, “And let them be for signs.” Basil questions whether it is possible to determine the exact moment of birth, asserts that attributing the traits of animals to the constellations and zodiac signs subjects them to external influences, and defends human free will in the usual way. Nevertheless, he acknowledges that “the variations of the moon do not occur without having a significant impact on the organization of animals and all living[Pg 493] things,” and that the moon causes “all nature to participate in her changes.”[2117]

Permanence of species.

Basil’s utterances concerning the world of nature are not always consistent. In describing the creation of vegetation he asserts that species are unchanging, affirming that “all which sprang from the earth in the first bringing forth is kept the same to our time, thanks to the constant reproduction of kind.”[2118] Yet a few paragraphs later we find him saying, “It has been observed that pines, cut down or even submitted to the action of fire, are changed into a forest of oaks.”[2119] Nevertheless in the last homily he again asserts that “nature, once put in motion by divine command, ... keeps up the succession of kinds through resemblance to the last. Nature always makes a horse succeed to a horse, a lion to a lion, an eagle to an eagle, and preserving each animal by these uninterrupted successions she transmits it to the end of all things. Animals do not see their peculiarities destroyed or effaced by any length of time; their nature, as though it had just been constituted, follows the course of ages forever young.”[2120]

Basil's comments about the natural world aren't always consistent. When he talks about the creation of plant life, he claims that species don't change, stating that “everything that came from the earth in the beginning remains the same up to our time, thanks to the constant reproduction of its kind.”[2118] However, just a few paragraphs later, he mentions, “It has been observed that pines, whether cut down or exposed to fire, can transform into a forest of oaks.”[2119] Still, in his last homily, he reiterates that “nature, once set in motion by divine command, ... maintains the succession of species through similarity to the last. Nature always produces a horse from a horse, a lion from a lion, an eagle from an eagle, and by preserving each animal through these unbroken successions, she passes it down until the end of all things. Animals don’t see their unique traits destroyed or erased by the passage of time; their nature, as if it has just been created, endures through the ages, forever youthful.”[2120]

Final impression from the Hexaemeron.

Concerning Basil in conclusion we may say that while he can scarcely be called much of a scientist, he is a pretty good scientist for a preacher. His knowledge of, and errors concerning, the world of nature will probably compare quite as well with the science of his day as those of most modern sermons will with the science of our days. His occasional flings at Greek philosophy are probably not to be taken too seriously. But what interests us rather more[Pg 494] than Basil’s attitude is that of his audience, curious concerning nature. Just as it is evident that many of them go to theaters and circuses, or play with dice, despite Basil’s denunciation of the immoral songs of the stage and the evils of gambling; just so, we suspect, it was the attractive morsels of Greek astronomy, botany, and zoology which he offered them that induced them to come and listen further to his argument from design and his moral lessons based upon these natural phenomena. Nor were they likely to observe his censure of incantations and nativities more closely than his condemnation of theater and gaming. It would be rash to infer that they always practiced what he preached. By the same token, even if the church fathers had opposed scientific investigation—and it hardly appears that they did—they would probably have been no more successful in checking it than they were in checking the commerce of Constantinople, although “S. Ambrose regards the gains of merchants as for the most part fraudulent, and S. Chrysostom’s language has been generally appealed to in a similar sense.”[2121]

Regarding Basil, we can conclude that while he might not be considered much of a scientist, he’s a decent scientist for a preacher. His understanding of, and mistakes about, the natural world likely compare to the scientific knowledge of his time as much as most contemporary sermons do to our current science. His occasional criticisms of Greek philosophy probably shouldn't be taken too seriously. However, what we find more interesting than Basil's perspective is that of his audience, who were eager to learn about nature. It's clear that many of them attended theaters and circuses, or played games of chance, despite Basil's condemnation of immoral stage songs and the dangers of gambling; similarly, we suspect it was the appealing bits of Greek astronomy, botany, and zoology he presented that drew them in to hear more about his arguments for design and the moral lessons connected to these natural phenomena. They were unlikely to pay more attention to his criticisms of sorcery and astrology than to his thoughts on theater and gambling. It would be foolish to assume they always followed his teachings. Likewise, even if the church fathers had opposed scientific exploration—and it doesn’t seem they did—they probably would have been just as ineffective in stopping it as they were in controlling trade in Constantinople, even though "St. Ambrose considers the profits of merchants mostly fraudulent, and St. Chrysostom's comments have often been referenced in a similar way."[2121]

The Medicine Chest of Epiphanius.

The same recognition of an interest in nature on the part of his audience and the same appeal to their scientific curiosity, which we have seen in Basil’s sermons, is shown by Epiphanius of Cyprus (315-403) writing in 374-375 A. D.[2122] He calls his work against heresies the Panarion, or “Medicine Chest,” his idea being to provide antidotes and healing herbs in the form of salubrious doctrine against the venom of heretics whose enigmas he compares to the bites of serpents or wild beasts. This metaphor is more or less adhered to throughout the work, and particular heresies are compared to the asp, basilisk, dipsas,[2123] buprestis,[2124] lizard, dog-fish or shark, mole, centipede, scorpion, and various[Pg 495] vipers. We are further told of substances that drive away serpents, such as the herbs dictamnon, abrotonum, and libanotis, the gum storax,[2125] and the stone gagates. As his authorities in such matters Epiphanius states that he uses Nicander for the natures of beasts and reptiles, and for roots and plants Dioscorides, Pamphilus, Mithridates the king, Callisthenes and Philo, Iolaos the Bithynian, Heraclides of Tarentum, and a number of other names.[2126]

The same awareness of an interest in nature from his audience and the same appeal to their scientific curiosity, which we noticed in Basil’s sermons, is evident in Epiphanius of Cyprus (315-403) writing in 374-375 A.D. He titles his work against heresies the Panarion, or “Medicine Chest,” intending to provide antidotes and healing herbs in the form of helpful doctrine against the poison of heretics, whose puzzles he likens to the bites of snakes or wild animals. This metaphor is largely maintained throughout the work, with specific heresies compared to the asp, basilisk, dipsas, [2123] buprestis, [2124] lizard, dog-fish or shark, mole, centipede, scorpion, and various[Pg 495] vipers. It is also noted that there are substances that ward off snakes, such as the herbs dictamnon, abrotonum, and libanotis, the gum storax, [2125] and the stone gagates. For his references in these matters, Epiphanius mentions that he uses Nicander for information on the natures of beasts and reptiles, and for roots and plants, he cites Dioscorides, Pamphilus, King Mithridates, Callisthenes and Philo, Iolaos the Bithynian, Heraclides of Tarentum, and several other names. [2126]

Gems in the high priest’s breastplate.

If in his Panarion Epiphanius makes use of ancient botany, medicine, and zoology for purposes of comparison, in his treatise on the twelve gems in the breastplate of the Hebrew high priest[2127] he perhaps gives an excuse and sets the fashion for the Christian medieval Lapidaries. This work was probably composed after the Panarion, and in the opinion of Fogginius even later than 392 A. D.[2128] This treatise probably was better known in the middle ages than the Panarion, since the fullest version of it extant is the old Latin one, while the Greek text which has survived seems only a very brief epitome. The Greek version, however, embodies a good deal of what is said concerning the gems themselves and their virtues, but omits entirely the long effort to identify each of the twelve stones with one of the twelve tribes of Israel, which is left unfinished even in the Latin version. Epiphanius shows himself rather chary in regard to such virtues attributed to gems as to calm storms, make men pacific, and confer the power of divination. He does not go so far as to omit them entirely, but he usually qualifies them as the assertion of “those who construct fables” or “those who believe fables.” It is without any such qualification, however, that he declares that the topaz,[2129] when ground on a physician’s grindstone, although red itself, emits a white milky fluid, and, moreover,[Pg 496] that as many vessels as one wishes may be filled with this fluid without changing the appearance or shape or lessening the weight of the stone. Skilled physicians also attribute to this liquid a healing effect in eye troubles, in hydrophobia, and in the case of those who have gone mad from eating grape-fish.

If in his Panarion Epiphanius uses ancient botany, medicine, and zoology for comparison, in his work on the twelve gems in the breastplate of the Hebrew high priest[2127], he may be providing justification and setting the trend for the Christian medieval Lapidaries. This work was likely written after the Panarion, and according to Fogginius, even later than 392 A.D.[2128]. This treatise was probably more well-known in the middle ages than the Panarion, since the most complete version we have is the old Latin one, while the surviving Greek text seems to be just a very brief summary. The Greek version, however, includes a lot of information about the gems themselves and their properties but completely skips the lengthy effort to link each of the twelve stones with one of the twelve tribes of Israel, which remains unfinished even in the Latin version. Epiphanius appears to be somewhat cautious regarding the virtues attributed to gems, such as calming storms, fostering peace, and granting the ability to see the future. He doesn’t completely dismiss them but often describes them as beliefs held by “those who create fables” or “those who believe fables.” However, he states without any such qualification that the topaz,[2129], when ground on a doctor's grindstone, although red itself, produces a white milky liquid, and furthermore,[Pg 496] that as many vessels as one desires can be filled with this liquid without altering the appearance or shape or reducing the weight of the stone. Experienced doctors also claim that this liquid has healing properties for eye issues, hydrophobia, and for those who have gone insane from eating grape-fish.

Some other gems.

Epiphanius mentions a few other gems than those in the high priest’s breastplate. Among these is the stone hyacinth[2130] which, when placed upon live coals, extinguishes them without injury to itself and which is also beneficial to women in childbirth, and drives away phantasms. Certain varieties of it are found in the north among the barbarous Scythians. The gems lie at the bottom of a deep valley which is inaccessible to men because walled in completely by mountains, and moreover from the summits one cannot see into the valley because of a dark mist which covers it. How men ever became cognizant of the fact that there are gems there may well be wondered but is a point which Epiphanius does not take into consideration. He simply tells us that when men are sent to obtain some of these stones, they skin sheep and hurl the carcasses into the valley where some of the gems adhere to the flesh. The odor of the raw meat then attracts the eagles, whose keener sight is perhaps able to penetrate the mist, although Epiphanius does not say so, and they carry the carrion to their nests in the mountains. The men watch where the eagles have taken the meat and go there and find the gems which have been brought out with it. In the middle ages we find this same story in a slightly different form told of Alexander the Great on his expedition to India. Epiphanius has one thing to tell of India himself in connection with gems, which is that a temple of Father Liber (Bacchus) is located there which is said to have three hundred and sixty-five steps,—all of sapphire.[2131]

Epiphanius mentions a few other gems besides those in the high priest’s breastplate. One of these is the hyacinth stone, which, when placed on live coals, puts them out without being damaged and is also helpful for women in childbirth, as well as driving away phantoms. Certain varieties are found in the north among the barbaric Scythians. The gems are at the bottom of a deep valley that’s completely walled in by mountains, making it inaccessible to people, and from the peaks, you can't see into the valley because of the dark mist that covers it. It’s intriguing how people learned that there are gems there, but Epiphanius doesn’t address that. He simply tells us that when men are sent to collect these stones, they skin sheep and throw the carcasses into the valley, where some of the gems stick to the flesh. The smell of the raw meat then attracts the eagles, whose sharper vision might be able to see through the mist, although Epiphanius doesn’t mention this, and they take the carcasses to their nests in the mountains. The men track where the eagles have taken the meat and go there to find the gems that came out with it. In the Middle Ages, a similar story appeared, told of Alexander the Great during his expedition to India, though with some variations. Epiphanius has one thing to add about India in relation to gems: there is a temple of Father Liber (Bacchus) there, which is said to have three hundred and sixty-five steps—all made of sapphire.

[Pg 497]

[Pg 497]

The so-called Physiologus: problem of its origin.

The problem of an early Christian work entitled Physiologus is no easy one, although much has been written concerning it[2132] and more has been taken for granted. For instance, one often meets such wild and sweeping statements as that “the name Physiologus” was “given to a cyclopedia of what was known and imagined about earth, sea, sky, birds, beasts, and fishes, which for a thousand years was the authoritative source of information on these matters and was translated into every European tongue.”[2133] My later treatment of medieval science will make patent the inaccuracy of such a statement. But to return to the problem of the origin of Physiologus. The original Greek text,[2134] which some would put back in the first half of the second century of our era, if it ever existed, is now lost, and its previous existence and character are inferred from numerous apparent citations of it, possible extracts from it, and what are taken to be imitations, abbreviations, amplifications, adaptations, and translations of it in other languages and of later date. Thus we have versions or fragments in Armenian,[2135] Syriac,[2136][Pg 498] Ethiopian,[2137] and Arabic;[2138] a Greek text from medieval manuscripts, mostly of late date;[2139] various Latin versions in numerous manuscripts from the eighth century on;[2140] in Old High German a prose translation of about 1000 A. D. and a poetical version later in the same language;[2141] and Bestiaries such as those of Philip of Thaon[2142] and William[Pg 499] the Clerk[2143] in the Romance languages[2144] and other vernaculars.[2145] The Physiologus has been thought to have originated in Alexandria because of its use of the Egyptian names for the months and because Clement of Alexandria and Origen are supposed to have made use of it. But it is difficult to determine whether the church fathers drew passages concerning animals and nature from some such work or whether it was a collection of passages from their writings upon such themes. Ahrens, who thought he found the original form of the work in a Syriac Book of the Things of Nature,[2146] regarded Origen as its author. In a medical manuscript at Vienna is a Physiologus in Greek ascribed to Epiphanius of Cyprus,[2147] of whom we have just been treating, while we hear that Pope Gelasius at a synod of 496 condemned as apocryphal a Physiologus which was written by heretics and ascribed to Ambrose,[2148] who so closely duplicated the Hexaemeron of Basil. A work on the natures of animals is also attributed to John Chrysostom.[2149] I am not sure whether[Pg 500] a Physiologus ascribed to John the Scot in a tenth century Latin manuscript is the same work.[2150]

The issue with an early Christian text called Physiologus is quite complex, despite the many writings about it—and even more assumptions made about it. For example, you often come across sweeping claims like “the name Physiologus” refers to a compendium of what was known and imagined about earth, sea, sky, birds, beasts, and fish, which served as the authoritative source of information on these topics for a thousand years and was translated into every European language.” My later discussion of medieval science will clearly show the inaccuracy of such a claim. But let’s go back to the question of the origin of Physiologus. The original Greek text, which some believe may have existed in the first half of the second century, is now lost, and its previous existence and nature are inferred from numerous apparent citations, possible excerpts, and what are viewed as imitations, abbreviations, expansions, adaptations, and translations in other languages and from later dates. We have versions or fragments in Armenian, Syriac, [Pg 498] Ethiopian, and Arabic; a Greek text from medieval manuscripts, mostly from later periods; various Latin versions in numerous manuscripts dating from the eighth century onward; an Old High German prose translation from around 1000 A.D. and a later poetic version in the same language; and bestiaries such as those by Philip of Thaon and William the Clerk in Romance languages and other vernaculars. It's believed that Physiologus originated in Alexandria due to its use of Egyptian names for the months, as well as because Clement of Alexandria and Origen are thought to have referenced it. However, it’s hard to determine if the church fathers took passages about animals and nature from such a work or if it was a compilation of excerpts from their own writings on these topics. Ahrens, who believed he found the original form of the work in a Syriac Book of the Things of Nature, regarded Origen as its author. There’s a Greek Physiologus ascribed to Epiphanius of Cyprus in a medical manuscript in Vienna, which we just discussed, and Pope Gelasius condemned a Physiologus written by heretics and attributed to Ambrose as apocryphal at a synod in 496 because it closely mirrored Basil's Hexaemeron. A work discussing the natures of animals is also credited to John Chrysostom. I'm not sure if the Physiologus attributed to John the Scot in a tenth-century Latin manuscript is the same work. [Pg 500]

Does the title apply to any one particular treatise?

The Physiologus is commonly described as a symbolic bestiary, in which the characteristics and properties of animals are accompanied by Christian allegories and instruction. Some have almost gone so far as to hold that any passages of this sort are evidence of an author’s having employed the Physiologus, which some have held influenced the middle ages more than any other book except the Bible. But Pitra’s point is well taken that the Physiologus is one thing and the allegorical interpretation thereof another. In the case of the discordant versions or fragments which he gathered and published from different manuscripts, centuries, and languages, he noted one common feature, that the allegorical interpretation was sharply separated from the extracts from Physiologus and sometimes omitted entirely. This is what one would naturally expect since a physiologus is a natural scientist on whose statements concerning this or that the allegorical interpretation is presumably based and added thereto. But this suggests another difficulty in identifying Physiologus as a single work. The abbreviations for the word in medieval manuscripts are very easily confused with those for philosophers or phisici (physical scientists), and just as medieval writers often cite what the philosophers say or the phisici say without having reference to any particular book, so may they not cite what physiologi or even physiologus says without having any particular writer in mind? In the De bestiis ascribed to[Pg 501] Hugh of St. Victor of the twelfth century physici are cited[2151] as well as Physiologus. When Albertus Magnus states in the thirteenth century in his work on minerals that the physiologi have assigned very different causes for the marvelous occult virtue in stones, he evidently simply alludes to the opinions of scientists in general and has no such work or works as the so-called Physiologus in mind.[2152] This is also clearly the case in a fragment from the introduction to a Latin translation from the Arabic of some treatise on the astrolabe, in which we find phisiologi cited as astronomical authorities.[2153] Furthermore, even in works which deal with the natures of animals and which either have the word Physiologus in their titles or cite it now and then in the course of their texts, there exists such diversity that it becomes fairly evident not only that it is impossible to deduce from them the list of animals treated in the original Physiologus or the details which it gave concerning each, but also that it is highly probable that the title Physiologus has been applied to different treatises which did not necessarily have a common origin. Or at least the greatest liberties were taken with the original text and title,[2154] so that the word Physiologus came to apply less to any particular book, author, or authority than to almost any treatment of animals in a certain style.

The Physiologus is often described as a symbolic bestiary, where the traits and qualities of animals are paired with Christian allegories and teachings. Some have even suggested that passages of this kind are proof that an author used the Physiologus, which some argue influenced the Middle Ages more than any other book except the Bible. However, Pitra makes a valid point that the Physiologus itself is one thing, while its allegorical interpretation is quite another. In the case of the differing versions or fragments he collected and published from various manuscripts, centuries, and languages, he noted one common feature: the allegorical interpretation was distinctly separated from the excerpts from the Physiologus and sometimes left out entirely. This is what one would naturally expect since a physiologus is a natural scientist whose statements about particular topics likely served as the basis for the allegorical interpretation. However, this raises another challenge in identifying the Physiologus as a single work. The abbreviations for the word in medieval manuscripts can easily be confused with those for philosophers or phisici (physical scientists), and just as medieval writers often refer to what philosophers or phisici say without citing a specific book, they may also reference what physiologi or even physiologus say without having a particular author in mind. In the De bestiis, attributed to Hugh of St. Victor from the twelfth century, both physici and Physiologus are cited. When Albertus Magnus mentions in the thirteenth century in his work on minerals that the physiologi have provided very different explanations for the remarkable hidden qualities in stones, he is clearly just referring to the views of scientists in general and is not thinking of any specific work or works called Physiologus. This is also evident in a fragment from the introduction to a Latin translation from the Arabic of some treatise on the astrolabe, where phisiologi are mentioned as astronomical authorities. Moreover, even in works that discuss the natures of animals and either include the word Physiologus in their titles or mention it occasionally throughout their texts, there is such variety that it becomes clear not only that it is impossible to deduce the list of animals covered in the original Physiologus or the specifics it provided about each, but also that it is highly likely that the title Physiologus has been applied to different treatises that did not necessarily share a common origin. At the very least, there were considerable liberties taken with the original text and title, so the term Physiologus came to refer less to any specific book, author, or authority and more to almost any treatment of animals in a certain style.

And to what sort of a treatise?

But of what style? It has too often been assumed that theology dominated all medieval thought and that natural science was employed only for purposes of religious symbolism. Of this general assumption the Physiologus has been seized upon as an apt illustration and it has been represented as a symbolic bestiary which influenced the middle ages more than any other book except the Bible[2155] and whose allegories accounted for the animal sculpture of the Gothic[Pg 502] cathedrals and the strange or familiar beasts in the borders of the Bayeux Tapestry, the margins of illuminated manuscripts, and so on and so forth.

But what kind of style? It’s often assumed that theology was the main focus of all medieval thought and that natural science was only used for religious symbolism. The Physiologus has been highlighted as a clear example of this assumption, portrayed as a symbolic bestiary that influenced the Middle Ages more than any other book besides the Bible[2155] and whose allegories explained the animal sculptures of the Gothic[Pg 502] cathedrals and the strange or familiar creatures found in the borders of the Bayeux Tapestry, the margins of illuminated manuscripts, and so on.

Medieval art shows almost no symbolic influence of the Physiologus.

The more recent scientific study of medieval art has largely dissipated this latter notion. It has become evident that in the main medieval men represented animals in art because they were fond of animals, not because they were fond of allegories. Their art was natural, not symbolic. They were, says Mâle, “craftsmen who delighted in nature for its own sake, sometimes lovingly copying the living forms, sometimes playing with them, combining and contorting them as they were led by their own caprice.” St. Bernard, although “the prince of allegorists,” saw no sense in the animal sculptures in Romanesque cloisters and inveighed against them. In short, with the exception of the symbols of the four evangelists, “there are few cases in which it is permissible to assign symbolic meaning to animal forms,” and it is “evident that the fauna and flora of medieval art, natural or fantastic, have in most cases a value that is purely decorative.” “To sum up,” concludes Mâle, “we are of the opinion that the Bestiaries of which we hear so much from the archaeologists had no real influence on art until their substance passed into Honorius of Autun’s book (Speculum ecclesiae, c. 1090-1120) and from that book into sermons. I have searched in vain (with but two exceptions) for representations of the hedgehog, beaver, tiger, and other animals which figure in the Bestiaries but which are not mentioned by Honorius.”[2156]

The latest scientific study of medieval art has mostly put this idea to rest. It’s clear that medieval people depicted animals in their art mainly because they loved animals, not because they were into allegories. Their art was more about nature than symbolism. Mâle says they were “craftsmen who appreciated nature for its own sake, sometimes lovingly replicating living forms, sometimes playing with them, mixing and twisting them as their whims led them.” St. Bernard, although “the prince of allegorists,” found no meaning in the animal sculptures in Romanesque cloisters and criticized them. In short, apart from the symbols of the four evangelists, “there are few instances where it's acceptable to assign symbolic interpretations to animal forms,” and it’s “clear that the fauna and flora in medieval art, whether realistic or fantastic, often serve purely decorative purposes.” “To sum up,” Mâle concludes, “we believe that the Bestiaries often cited by archaeologists had little real impact on art until their contents were incorporated into Honorius of Autun’s book (Speculum ecclesiae, c. 1090-1120) and then into sermons. I have searched unsuccessfully (with only two exceptions) for images of the hedgehog, beaver, tiger, and other animals present in the Bestiaries that are not mentioned by Honorius.”[2156]

Physiologus was more natural scientist than allegorist.

These assertions concerning medieval art hold true also to a large extent of medieval literature and medieval science, although they were perhaps less natural and original than it and more dependent on past tradition and authority. But medieval men, as we shall see, studied nature from scientific curiosity and not in search for spiritual allegories, and even Goldstaub recognizes that by the thirteenth century the[Pg 503] scientific zoology of Aristotle submerged that of the Physiologus in writers like Thomas of Cantimpré and Albertus Magnus who, although they may still embody portions of the Physiologus, divest it of its characteristic religious elements.[2157] But were its characteristic elements ever religious? Were they not always scientific or pseudo-scientific? Ahrens holds that the title was taken from Aristotle in the first place, and that Pliny was the chief source for the contents. The allegories do not appear in such early texts as the Syriac version or the fragments preserved in the Latin Glossary of Ansileubus. Not even the introductory scriptural texts appear in the Greek version ascribed to Epiphanius. Moreover, in the Bestiaries where the allegorical applications are included, it is for the natures of the animals, the supposedly scientific facts on which the symbolism is based, and for these alone that Physiologus is cited in the text. Thus the symbolism would appear to be somewhat adventitious, while the pseudo-science is constant. It is obvious that the allegorical applications cannot do without the supposed facts concerning animals; on the other hand, the supposedly scientific information can and does frequently dispense with the allegories. We do not know who was responsible for the allegorical interpretations in the first instance. Hommel would carry the origin of their symbolism back of the Christian era to the animal worship of Persia, India, and Egypt.[2158] But we are assured over and over again that Natural Scientist or Physiologus vouches for the statements concerning the natures of animals. Thus the symbolic significance of the literature that has been grouped under the title Physiologus has been exaggerated, while the respect for and interest in natural science to which it testifies have too often been lost sight of.

These claims about medieval art also largely apply to medieval literature and science, although they might have been less natural and original than art, relying more on past traditions and authority. However, as we will explore, medieval people studied nature out of scientific curiosity rather than seeking spiritual allegories. Even Goldstaub acknowledges that by the thirteenth century, Aristotle's scientific zoology had overtaken that of the Physiologus in writers like Thomas of Cantimpré and Albertus Magnus, who, while they might still include parts of the Physiologus, stripped it of its distinct religious elements. But were its defining elements ever truly religious? Weren't they always scientific or pseudo-scientific? Ahrens argues that the title originally came from Aristotle, with Pliny being the main source for its content. Allegories do not appear in early texts like the Syriac version or fragments in the Latin Glossary of Ansileubus. Even the introductory biblical texts are absent from the Greek version attributed to Epiphanius. Moreover, in the Bestiaries where allegorical interpretations are included, it is primarily for the nature of the animals and the so-called scientific facts supporting the symbolism that Physiologus is referenced in the text. This suggests that the symbolism is somewhat incidental, while the pseudo-science remains consistent. It is clear that allegorical interpretations cannot exist without the alleged facts about animals; conversely, the supposed scientific information can often stand alone without the allegories. We don’t know who initially created the allegorical interpretations. Hommel traces the origin of their symbolism back to before the Christian era, linking it to animal worship in Persia, India, and Egypt. However, it is repeatedly asserted that Natural Scientist or Physiologus supports the claims regarding animal natures. Consequently, the symbolic significance of the literature categorized under the title Physiologus has been overstated, while the respect for and interest in natural science it reflects has often been overlooked.


[Pg 504]

[Pg 504]

CHAPTER XXII
AUGUSTINE ON MAGIC AND ASTROLOGY

Date and influence of Augustine—Christianity and magic—Censure of magic and theurgy as well as Goetia—Magic due to demons—Marvels wrought by magic—Cannot be equalled by most Christians—Miracles of heretics—Theory of demons—Limitations to the power of magic—Its fantastic character—Samuel and the witch of Endor—Natural marvels—Relation between magic and science—Superstitions akin to magic—Survival of pagan superstition among the laity—Augustine’s attack upon astrology—Fate and free will—Argument from twins—Defense of the astrologers—Elections—Are animals and plants under the stars?—Failure to disprove the control of nature by the stars—Natural divination and prophetic visions—The star at Christ’s birth—Nature of the stars—Orosius on the Priscillianists and Origenists—Augustine’s letter—Attitude toward astronomy—Perfect numbers.

Date and influence of Augustine—Christianity and magic—Criticism of magic and theurgy as well as Goetia—Magic attributed to demons—Wonders performed by magic—Much of this can't be matched by most Christians—Miracles of heretics—Theory of demons—Limits to the power of magic—Its fantastical nature—Samuel and the witch of Endor—Natural wonders—Connection between magic and science—Superstitions similar to magic—Residual pagan superstitions among common people—Augustine’s critique of astrology—Fate and free will—Argument from twins—Defense of astrologers—Elections—Are animals and plants influenced by the stars?—Inability to disprove nature's control by the stars—Natural divination and prophetic visions—The star at Christ’s birth—Nature of the stars—Orosius on the Priscillianists and Origenists—Augustine’s letter—Perspective on astronomy—Perfect numbers.

Date and influence of Augustine.

The utterances of Augustine concerning magic and astrology have been reserved for separate treatment in this chapter, partly because of his late date, 354 to 430 A. D., partly because of the voluminousness of his writings, but especially because of his approach to and influence upon the thought of the middle ages. It is, moreover, in his epoch-making book, The City of God, which better than any other single event marks, or at least sums up, the transition from classical to medieval civilization, from the life of the ancient city to that of the medieval church, that he descants with especial fulness upon magic, demons, and astrology, although he often also refers to these themes in his other treatises, which we shall cite as well. I separate the words, magic and astrology, here because Augustine, like most of the fathers, does so. Of Augustine’s discussion of the Biblical account of creation in his Confessions and De Genesi ad litteram I shall not treat, having already presented Basil’s Hexaemeron as an example of this type of work and of[Pg 505] the Christian attitude toward natural science.[2159] But later in treating of medieval writers on nature I may have occasion to point out certain passages in which they may have been influenced by Augustine.

The statements by Augustine regarding magic and astrology are discussed separately in this chapter, partly due to his later lifetime from 354 to 430 A.D., partly because of the extensive nature of his writings, but mainly because of his impact on medieval thought. Furthermore, in his groundbreaking book, The City of God, which signifies the shift from classical to medieval civilization and the transition from the ancient city life to that of the medieval church, he elaborates extensively on magic, demons, and astrology. Although he also mentions these topics in his other works, which we will reference as well. I mention magic and astrology separately here because Augustine, like most early church fathers, does the same. I will not cover Augustine’s discussion of the Biblical creation account in his Confessions and De Genesi ad litteram, as I have already presented Basil’s Hexaemeron as an example of this kind of writing and the Christian perspective on natural science. However, when discussing medieval writers on nature later on, I may point out specific passages that show Augustine's influence.

Christianity and magic.

Even though writing in the fifth century Augustine still finds it necessary to defend Christ against those who imagine that He has converted peoples to Himself by means of the magic art.[2160] And he tells us of books of magic which are ascribed to Christ Himself or to the apostles Peter and Paul.[2161] In reply to such charges or assertions he insists that Christians have nothing to do with magic, and that their miracles “were wrought by simple confidence and devout faith, not by incantations and spells compounded by an art of depraved curiosity.”[2162] And he brings the counter-charge against Roman religion that King Numa, its founder, learned its secrets and sacred rites by means of hydromancy or necromancy.[2163] He admits, however, that condemnation of magic and legislation against it had begun before Christianity.[2164]

Even in the fifth century, Augustine still feels the need to defend Christ against those who think that He has converted people through magic. [2160] He mentions books of magic attributed to Christ Himself or to the apostles Peter and Paul. [2161] In response to such claims, he insists that Christians have nothing to do with magic, and that their miracles “were performed through simple confidence and devout faith, not through incantations and spells created by a corrupt curiosity.” [2162] He also counters the claims against Roman religion by stating that King Numa, its founder, learned its secrets and sacred rites through hydromancy or necromancy. [2163] However, he acknowledges that the condemnation of magic and laws against it had started before Christianity. [2164]

Magic and theurgy censured as well as Goetia.

Augustine uniformly speaks of magic with censure and several times adverts to “the crimes of magicians.”[2165] He speaks, however, of goetia or sorcery as “a more detestable name” than magia and of “theurgy” as “an honorable name.” He also states that some persons draw a distinction between the malefici or sorcerers or practitioners of goetia, whom they call truly guilty of illicit arts and deserving of condemnation, and those who practice theurgy, whom they call praiseworthy. Porphyry, for instance, had[Pg 506] stated that theurgy was useful to purge the soul and prepare it to receive spirits and to see God. Augustine, however, holds that in other passages Porphyry condemned theurgy, and in any case he himself refuses to sanction it.[2166] He stoutly denies that “souls are purged and reconciled to God through sacrilegious likenesses and impious curiosity and magic consecrations.”[2167] Very possibly Augustine would have classed as improper theurgy some of the use of powerful names described by Origen.

Augustine consistently criticizes magic and often refers to “the crimes of magicians.” He describes goetia or sorcery as “an even more detestable name” than magia and considers “theurgy” as “an honorable name.” He also mentions that some people make a distinction between malefici, or sorcerers and practitioners of goetia, whom they deem truly guilty of illicit arts and deserving of condemnation, and those who practice theurgy, whom they view as praiseworthy. For example, Porphyry indicated that theurgy was beneficial for purging the soul and preparing it to receive spirits and to see God. However, Augustine argues that in other writings, Porphyry condemned theurgy, and he personally refuses to approve of it. He strongly denies that “souls are purged and reconciled to God through sacrilegious imitations, impious curiosity, and magical consecrations.” It’s very likely that Augustine would have considered some of the use of powerful names described by Origen to be improper theurgy.

Magic due to demons.

At any rate Augustine declares that theurgists and sorcerers alike “are entangled in the deceitful rites of demons who may masquerade under the names of angels.”[2168] For it is to demons that Augustine, like most of our Christian writers, attributes both the origin and the success of magic. The demons are enticed by men to work marvels, not by offerings of food, as if they were animals, but by symbols which conform to the individual taste of each as a spirit, namely, various stones, plants, trees, animals, incantations, and ceremonies,[2169]—a good brief summary of the materials and methods of magic. Augustine believes that the spirits had first to instruct men what rites to perform and by what names to call them in order to summon them.

At any rate, Augustine says that both theurgists and sorcerers “are caught up in the misleading rituals of demons who can pretend to be angels.”[2168] Augustine, like most Christian writers, thinks that demons are behind both the origin and the effectiveness of magic. Demons are drawn in by humans to work wonders, not with food offerings like animals, but with symbols that appeal to each demon's unique preferences, such as different stones, plants, trees, animals, spells, and rituals,[2169]—a good, concise summary of the materials and methods of magic. Augustine believes that spirits had to teach humans what rituals to conduct and what names to use in order to summon them.

Marvels wrought by magic.

But when once the demons have revealed their secrets, henceforth the charms of the magic art have efficacy. Of the marvels worked by means of magic Augustine has little doubt; to deny them would indeed in his opinion be to deny the truth of the Scriptures, to whose accounts of Pharaoh’s magicians,[2170] the witch of Endor, and the Magi and the star, he adverts many times in his various works. If actors in the theater and performers in spectacles are able by art and exercise to display astounding alterations in the appearance of their earthly bodies, why may not the demons with[Pg 507] their aerial bodies produce marvelous changes in elementary substances or by occult influence construct phantom images to delude human senses?[2171] Augustine even grants that the magicians are able to terrify the inferior spirits into obedience to their commands by adjuring them by the names of superior spirits, and thereby with divine permission “to exhibit to the eye of sense certain results which seem great and marvelous to men who through weakness of the flesh are incapable of beholding things eternal.” He does not regard this as inconsistent with the assertion of Jesus that Satan cannot cast out Satan, since while it may be that thus demons are expelled from sick bodies, the evil one thereby only the more surely takes possession of the soul.[2172]

But once the demons have revealed their secrets, the charms of magic become effective. Augustine has little doubt about the wonders produced through magic; to deny them would, in his view, mean denying the truth of the Scriptures, which mention Pharaoh’s magicians, the witch of Endor, and the Magi and the star numerous times in his various works. If actors in the theater and performers in spectacles can use their skills and training to create astonishing changes in their physical appearances, why can't demons, with their ethereal bodies, create amazing transformations in basic substances or use hidden powers to create illusions that deceive human senses? Augustine even agrees that magicians can intimidate lower spirits into obeying their commands by calling on the names of higher spirits, and thus, with divine permission, “to show visible results that seem great and marvelous to people who, due to their physical weakness, cannot perceive eternal things.” He doesn’t see this as contradictory to Jesus' statement that Satan cannot cast out Satan, since even if demons are expelled from sick bodies, the evil one is only more securely taking hold of the soul.

Cannot be equalled by most Christians.

Augustine further grants that magicians, although stained with crime, can at present work miracles which most Christians and even most saints cannot perform. For this, however, he finds Scriptural precedent. Pharaoh’s magicians performed feats which none of the Children of Israel could equal except Moses who excelled them by divine aid. Augustine, like earlier fathers, usually fails to mention Aaron in this connection.[2173] This superiority of magicians to most Christians in working marvels Augustine believes is divinely ordained so that Christians may remain humble and practice works of justice rather than seek to perform miracles. Magicians seek their own glory; the saints strive only for the glory of God. And the more marvelous are the feats of magic, the more Christians should shun them; the greater the power of the demons, the closer Christians should cling to that Mediator who alone can raise men from the lowest depths.[2174]

Augustine also acknowledges that magicians, despite being guilty of wrongdoing, can currently perform miracles that most Christians, and even many saints, cannot achieve. He finds this supported by Scripture. Pharaoh’s magicians accomplished feats that none of the Children of Israel could match, except for Moses, who surpassed them through divine assistance. Augustine, like earlier church fathers, often overlooks Aaron in this context. He believes that the magicians' superiority over most Christians in performing wonders is divinely intended so that Christians remain humble and focus on doing just deeds rather than trying to work miracles. Magicians seek their own fame; saints aim solely for God's glory. The more astonishing the magical feats, the more Christians should avoid them; the stronger the demons’ power, the tighter Christians should hold onto the Mediator who alone can lift people from the deepest lows.

Miracles of heretics.

Like Origen, Augustine further distinguishes the miracles wrought by heretics both from magic and from the miracles of true Christians. He holds that every soul in[Pg 508] part controls itself and exercises as it were a private jurisdiction, in part is subject to the laws of the universe just as any citizen is amenable to public jurisdiction. Therefore magicians perform their marvels by private contracts with demons; good Christians perform theirs by public justice; bad Christians perform theirs by the appearance or signs of public justice.[2175] This view would seem to indicate that God, like the demons, regards the signs alone and not the character and purpose of the performer, so that Christian miracles, if they can be duplicated by heretics, would appear to be largely a matter of procedure and art, like magic.

Like Origen, Augustine further distinguishes the miracles performed by heretics from both magic and the miracles of true Christians. He believes that every soul partly controls itself and exercises a sort of private authority, while also being subject to the laws of the universe, just as any citizen is answerable to public law. Therefore, magicians perform their wonders through private agreements with demons; good Christians perform theirs through public justice; bad Christians perform theirs through the appearance or signs of public justice. This perspective suggests that God, like the demons, focuses on the signs alone and not on the character and intention of the performer, meaning that Christian miracles, if replicable by heretics, would primarily be about technique and skill, similar to magic.

Theory of demons.

For his theory of demons and their characteristics Augustine seems largely indebted to Apuleius, whom he cites in several chapters of the eighth and ninth books of The City of God. In his separate treatise, The Divination of Demons,[2176] he explains their ability to predict the future and to perform marvels by the keenness of their sense, their rapidity of movement, their long experience of nature and life, and the subtlety of their aerial bodies. This last quality enables them to penetrate human bodies or affect the thoughts of men without men being aware of their presence. Augustine, however, of course does not believe that the world of nature is completely under the control of the demons. God alone created it and He still governs it, and the demons are able to do only as much as He permits.[2177]

For his theory of demons and their characteristics, Augustine seems largely influenced by Apuleius, whom he references in several chapters of the eighth and ninth books of The City of God. In his separate work, The Divination of Demons, [2176] he discusses their ability to predict the future and perform wonders due to their sharp senses, quick movements, extensive experience with nature and life, and the agility of their aerial forms. This last trait allows them to infiltrate human bodies or impact people's thoughts without them being aware of their presence. However, Augustine does not believe that the natural world is entirely under demon control. God alone created it, and He continues to govern it, allowing demons to act only as much as He permits. [2177]

Limitations to the power of magic.

There were, for example, some things which Pharaoh’s magicians could not do and in which Moses clearly excelled them. They were able to change their rods into snakes but his snake devoured theirs. How the magicians got their rods back, if at all, neither Augustine nor the Book of Exodus informs us. But whether with or without their magic wands, they were still able to duplicate one or two of the plagues sent upon Egypt. Augustine explains that neither they nor the demons who helped them really created snakes and frogs, but that there are certain seeds of life[Pg 509] hidden away in the elemental bodies of this world of which they made use. But their magic failed them when it came to the reproduction of minute insects.[2178] Augustine furthermore has some hesitation about accepting the stories of magic transformations of men into animals, which he represents as current in his own day as well as in times past, so that certain female inn-keepers in Italy are said to transform travelers into beasts of burden by a magic potion administered in the cheese, just as Circe transformed the companions of Ulysses and as Apuleius says happened to himself in the book that he wrote under the title, The Golden Ass. These stories, in Augustine’s opinion, “are either false or such uncommon occurrences that they are justly discredited.”[2179] He does not believe that demons can truly transform the human body into the limbs and lineaments of beasts, but the strange personal experiences of reliable persons have convinced him that men are deceived by dreams, hallucinations, and fantastic images.

For example, there were things that Pharaoh’s magicians couldn't do, where Moses clearly outperformed them. They could turn their rods into snakes, but his snake swallowed theirs. There’s no information from either Augustine or the Book of Exodus about how the magicians retrieved their rods, if they even did. Regardless of whether they had their magic wands, they managed to recreate one or two of the plagues that struck Egypt. Augustine explains that neither they nor the demons assisting them truly created snakes and frogs; instead, they used certain seeds of life hidden in the basic elements of this world. However, their magic failed when it came to reproducing tiny insects. Augustine is also hesitant to accept the tales of magicians turning men into animals, which were believed in his time and earlier. It’s said that certain women innkeepers in Italy could turn travelers into beasts of burden with a magic potion they put in cheese, like how Circe transformed Ulysses’ companions, and as Apuleius described happening to him in his book, The Golden Ass. Augustine thinks these stories “are either false or such rare occurrences that they are justly discredited.” He doesn't believe that demons can literally convert a human body into the form of animals, but the strange personal experiences of trustworthy people have led him to conclude that humans can be misled by dreams, hallucinations, and fantastical images.

Its fantastic character.

Thus, as we have already seen over and over again, the fantastic and deceptive character of magic is dimly realized. Usually, however, when Augustine represents “the powers of the air” as deceiving men by magic, the deceit consists merely in the magicians’ imagining that they are working the marvels which are really performed by demons, or in men being lured into subjection to Satan and to their ultimate and eternal damnation through the attractions of the magic art.[2180]

Thus, as we’ve seen repeatedly, the incredible and misleading nature of magic is vaguely understood. Typically, when Augustine talks about “the powers of the air” misleading people through magic, the deception lies in the magicians thinking they are creating wonders that are actually being done by demons, or in people being drawn into submission to Satan, leading to their final and eternal damnation through the allure of magical practices.[2180]

Samuel and the witch of Endor.

Augustine twice responded to questions concerning the witch of Endor’s apparent invocation of the spirit of Sam[Pg 510]uel, repeating in his De octo Dulcitii quaestionibus[2181] what he had already said in De diversis quaestionibus ad Simplicianum.[2182] In certain respects Augustine’s treatment of the problem differs from those which we have previously examined. What, he asks, if the impure spirit which possessed the pythonissa was able to raise the very soul of Samuel from the dead? Is it not much more strange that Satan was allowed to converse personally with God concerning the tempting of Job, and to raise the very Christ aloft upon a pinnacle of the temple? Why then may not the soul of Samuel have appeared to Saul, not unwillingly and coerced by magic power but voluntarily under some hidden divine dispensation? Augustine, however, also thinks it possible that the soul of Samuel did not appear but was impersonated by some phantasm and imaginary illusion made by diabolical machinations. He can see no deceit in the Scripture’s calling such a phantom Samuel, since we are accustomed to call paintings, statues, and images seen in dreams by the names of the actual persons whom they represent. Nor does it trouble him that the spirit of Samuel or pretended spirit predicted truly to Saul, for demons have a limited power of that sort. Thus they recognized Christ when the Jews knew Him not, and the damsel possessed of a spirit of divination in The Acts testified to Paul’s divine mission. Augustine leaves, however, as beyond the limits of his time and strength the further problem whether the human soul after death can be so evoked by magic incantations that it is not only seen but recognized by the living. In his answer to Dulcitius he further calls attention to the passage in Ecclesiasticus (XLVI, 23) where Samuel is praised as prophesying from the dead. And if this passage be rejected because the book is not in the Hebrew canon, what shall we say of Moses who appeared to the living long after his death?

Augustine addressed questions about the witch of Endor's apparent summoning of the spirit of Samuel twice, reiterating in his De octo Dulcitii quaestionibus[2181] what he had previously written in De diversis quaestionibus ad Simplicianum.[2182] In some ways, Augustine's approach to this issue differs from what we have looked at before. He wonders, what if the unclean spirit that possessed the pythonissa was capable of actually bringing Samuel's soul back from the dead? Isn't it even stranger that Satan was allowed to talk directly with God about tempting Job and to elevate Christ on a high point of the temple? So, why couldn't Samuel's soul have appeared to Saul, not unwillingly and forced by magical powers, but willingly under some hidden divine plan? Augustine also considers the possibility that Samuel's soul did not actually appear but was instead mimicked by some kind of illusion created by demonic tricks. He sees no dishonesty in Scripture calling this phantom Samuel, as we often refer to paintings, statues, and images in dreams by the names of the actual people they depict. He is not disturbed that the spirit of Samuel or the supposed spirit gave truthful predictions to Saul, since demons have a limited ability to do so. They recognized Christ even when the Jews did not, and the girl possessed with a spirit of divination in The Acts confirmed Paul's divine mission. However, Augustine leaves the question of whether a human soul can be summoned after death by magic in such a way that it's not only seen but also recognized by the living as beyond his understanding. In his response to Dulcitius, he also points out the passage in Ecclesiasticus (XLVI, 23) that praises Samuel for prophesying from beyond the grave. And if we dismiss this passage because the book is not part of the Hebrew canon, what do we make of Moses, who appeared to the living long after his death?

Natural marvels.

Augustine had some acquaintance with ancient natural science and in one passage rehearses a number of natural marvels which are found in the pages of Pliny and Solinus[Pg 511] in order to show pagans their inconsistency in accepting such wonders and yet remaining incredulous in regard to analogous phenomena mentioned in the Bible. So Augustine rehearses the strange properties of the magnet; asserts that adamant can be broken neither by steel nor fire but only by application of the blood of a goat; tells of Cappadocian mares who conceive from the wind; and hails the ability of the salamander to live in the midst of flames as a token that the bodies of sinners can subsist in hell fire. Augustine also admits “the virtue of stones and other objects and the craft of men who employ these in marvelous ways.”[2183] He denies, however, that the Marsi who charm snakes by their incantations are really understood by the serpents. There is some diabolical force behind their magic, as when Satan spoke to Eve through the serpent.[2184]

Augustine was somewhat familiar with ancient natural science and in one section, he lists several natural wonders found in the writings of Pliny and Solinus[Pg 511] to highlight how pagans find these marvels believable while remaining skeptical about similar phenomena mentioned in the Bible. He describes the unusual properties of the magnet, claims that adamant can only be broken by the blood of a goat, tells of Cappadocian mares that become pregnant from the wind, and points out that the salamander can survive in flames, suggesting that the bodies of sinners could endure in hellfire. Augustine also acknowledges “the power of stones and other objects and the skill of those who use them in amazing ways.”[2183] However, he refutes the idea that the Marsi, who charm snakes with their spells, are truly understood by the serpents. He suggests that there is a diabolical force behind their magic, akin to when Satan spoke to Eve through the serpent.[2184]

Relation between magic and science.

Once at least, however, Augustine associates science and magic. In his Confessions, after speaking of sensual pleasure he also censures “the vain and curious desire of investigation” through the senses, which is “palliated under the name of knowledge and science.” This is apt to lead one not only into scrutinizing secrets of nature which are beyond one and which it does one no good to know and which men want to know just for the sake of knowledge, but also “into searching through magic arts into the confines of perverse science.”[2185]

Once, Augustine connects science and magic. In his Confessions, after discussing sensual pleasure, he criticizes “the vain and curious desire for investigation” through the senses, which is “justified under the label of knowledge and science.” This tendency can lead a person not only to probe secrets of nature that are beyond their understanding and that do them no good to know, driven simply by the desire for knowledge, but also “to delve into magical arts in pursuit of twisted science.”[2185]

Superstitions akin to magic.

Of this dangerous borderland between magic and science Augustine has more to say in some chapters of his Christian Doctrine.[2186] After mentioning as prime instances of human superstition idolatry, other false religions, and the magic arts, he next lists the books of soothsayers (aruspices) and augurs as of the same class, “though seemingly a more permissible vanity.” In his Confessions,[2187] however, he tells of a soothsayer who offered not only to consult the future for him, but to insure him success in a poetical contest in[Pg 512] which he was to engage in the theater. The incident is a good illustration of the fact that prediction of the future and attempting to influence events go naturally together, and that arts of divination cannot be separated either in theory or practice from magic arts. In the Christian Doctrine Augustine is inclined further to put in the same class all use of invocations, incantations, and characters, which he regards as signs implying pacts with evil spirits, and the use of which in working cures he asserts is condemned by the medical profession. He is also suspicious of ligatures and suspensions, and states that it is one thing to say, “If you drink the juice of this herb, your stomach will not ache,” and is another thing to say, “If you suspend this herb from the neck, your stomach will not ache. For in one case a healing application is worthy of approval, in the other a superstitious signification is to be censured.” Augustine recognizes, however, that such ligatures and suspensions are called “by the milder name of natural remedies (physica)”; and if they are applied without incantations or characters, possibly they may heal the body naturally by mere attachment, in which case it is lawful to employ them. But they may involve some signal to demons, in which case the more efficacious they are, the more a Christian should avoid them.

Of this risky area between magic and science, Augustine shares more in some chapters of his Christian Doctrine.[2186] After highlighting key examples of human superstition like idolatry, other false religions, and the magical arts, he also categorizes the writings of soothsayers (aruspices) and augurs in the same group, “though seemingly a more acceptable vanity.” In his Confessions,[2187] he recounts a soothsayer who offered not only to predict the future for him but also to guarantee his success in a poetry contest he was entering in the theater. This incident clearly shows that predicting the future and trying to influence events are closely linked, and that divination practices cannot be separated in theory or practice from magical arts. In the Christian Doctrine, Augustine is further inclined to classify all uses of invocations, incantations, and symbols as signs that imply agreements with evil spirits, asserting that their use for healing is condemned by the medical community. He is also wary of ligatures and suspensions, explaining that saying, “If you drink the juice of this herb, your stomach won’t ache,” is different from saying, “If you hang this herb around your neck, your stomach won’t ache.” In the first case, a healing method is worthy of approval, while in the second, a superstitious sign should be criticized. Augustine acknowledges, however, that such ligatures and suspensions are referred to “by the milder name of natural remedies (physica)”; and if they are used without incantations or symbols, they might naturally heal the body through mere attachment, making their use acceptable. But if they signal to demons, then the stronger their effectiveness, the more a Christian should steer clear of them.

Survival of pagan superstition among the laity.

The same attitude toward superstitious medicine is shown in a sermon attributed to Augustine but probably spurious.[2188] Here a tempter is represented as coming to the sick man and saying, “If you had only employed that enchanter, you would be well now; if you would attach these characters to your body, you could recover your health.” Or another comes and says, “Send your girdle to that diviner; he will measure and scrutinize it and tell you what to do and whether you can recover.” Or a third visitor may recommend someone who is skilled in fumigation. The preacher warns his hearers not to succumb to such advice or they will be sacrificing to the devil; whereas if they refuse[Pg 513] such treatment and die, it will be a glorious martyr’s death. The preacher, however, is not over-sanguine that his advice will be heeded, as he has often before admonished his hearers against pagan superstitions, and yet reports keep coming to him that some are continuing such practices. He therefore “warns them again and again” to forsake all diviners, aruspices, enchanters, phylacteries, augury, and observance of days, or they will lose all benefit of the sacrament of baptism and will be eternally damned unless they perform a vast amount of penance. The observance of days other than the Lord’s Day is here condemned on the ground that God made the other six days without distinction. In another supposititious sermon[2189] the practice of diligently observing on which day of the week to set out on a journey is censured as equivalent to worshiping the planets, or rather the pagan gods whose names they bear and who are said here to have originally been bad men and women who lived at the time that the Children of Israel were in Egypt. The preacher is even opposed to naming the days of the week after such persons or planets and exhorts his hearers to speak simply of the first day, second day, and so on.

The same attitude towards superstitious medicine is reflected in a sermon attributed to Augustine, though it’s likely not genuine. Here, a tempter approaches a sick man and says, “If you had just used that magician, you’d be better now; if you put these symbols on your body, you could regain your health.” Another suggests, “Send your belt to that fortune-teller; he’ll measure it and tell you what to do and if you can heal.” A third might recommend an expert in smoke rituals. The preacher warns his audience not to give in to such advice, or they'll be worshipping the devil; instead, if they refuse those treatments and die, it will be a glorious martyr's death. However, the preacher isn’t overly optimistic that his advice will be followed, as he has warned his audience against pagan superstitions many times before, yet reports still reach him that some continue these practices. He therefore “cautions them repeatedly” to reject all fortune-tellers, soothsayers, magicians, amulets, omens, and the observing of non-Sabbath days, or they will forfeit all benefits of the baptism sacrament and face eternal damnation unless they do a great deal of penance. Observing days other than the Lord’s Day is condemned here because God created the other six days without distinction. In another questionable sermon, the practice of carefully choosing which day of the week to start a journey is criticized as akin to worshipping the planets, or rather the pagan gods they are named after, who are said to have been bad men and women during the time the Children of Israel were in Egypt. The preacher is even against naming the days of the week after such figures or planets and urges his listeners to refer to them simply as the first day, second day, and so on.

Augustine’s attack upon astrology.

Nor will Augustine, to return to his remarks in the Christian Doctrine,[2190] exempt “from this genus of pernicious superstition those who are called genethliaci from their consideration of natal days and now are also popularly termed mathematici.” He holds that they enslave human free will by predicting a man’s character and life from the stars, and that their art is a presumptuous and fallacious human invention, and that if their predictions come true, this is due either to chance or to demons who wish to confirm mankind in its error.[2191] In his youth, when a follower of the Manichean sect, Augustine had been a believer in astrology and thereby “sacrificed himself to demons” at the same time that, owing to his Manichean scruples against animal sacrifice, he refused to employ a haruspex.[2192] Perhaps on this account he[Pg 514] felt the more bound to warn his readers against astrology in his old age. He often attacks the casters of horoscopes in his works and especially in the opening chapters of the fifth book of The City of God, on which we may center our attention as being a rather more elaborate discussion than the other passages and including almost all the arguments which he advances elsewhere. These arguments are not original with him, but his presentation of them was perhaps better known in the middle ages than any other.[2193]

Nor will Augustine, to get back to his comments in the Christian Doctrine, exempt “from this category of harmful superstition those known as genethliaci, due to their focus on birth dates and who are now also commonly called mathematici.” He believes that they trap human free will by predicting a person’s character and life based on the stars, arguing that their practice is an arrogant and misleading human creation. If their predictions come true, he asserts, it’s either by chance or because of demons wanting to lead people into error. In his youth, as a follower of the Manichean sect, Augustine believed in astrology and therefore “sacrificed himself to demons,” even though, due to his Manichean beliefs against animal sacrifice, he rejected using a haruspex. Perhaps because of this, he felt more compelled to warn his readers against astrology in his later years. He frequently criticizes horoscope casters in his writings, especially in the early chapters of the fifth book of The City of God, which we can focus on as it offers a more detailed discussion than his other writings and includes nearly all the arguments he presents elsewhere. These arguments aren’t original to him, but his way of presenting them was probably more widely recognized in the Middle Ages than any other.

Fate and free will.

The objection to astrology as fatalistic does not come with the best grace from Augustine, the great advocate of divine prescience and of predestination, and in his discussion in The City of God he is forced to recognize this fact. He holds that the world is not governed by chance or by fate, a word which for most men means the force of the constellations, but by divine providence. He starts to accuse the astrologers of attributing to the spotless stars, or to the God whose orders the stars obediently execute, the causing of human sin and evil; but then recognizes that the astrologers will answer that the stars simply signify and in no way cause evil, just as God foresees but does not compel human sinfulness.

The criticism of astrology for being fatalistic doesn’t come off well from Augustine, the strong supporter of divine foreknowledge and predestination, and in his discussion in The City of God, he has to admit this reality. He argues that the world isn’t controlled by chance or fate—terms that, for most people, refer to the influence of the stars—but by divine providence. He begins to accuse astrologers of claiming that the flawless stars, or God, whose commands the stars follow, are responsible for human sin and evil. However, he soon realizes that astrologers would argue that the stars only indicate and do not actually cause evil, similar to how God foresees human wrongdoing but does not force it.

Argument from twins.

Thus thwarted in his attempt to show that the astrologers enslave the human will, although in other passages he still gives us to understand that they do,[2194] Augustine adopts another line of argument, that from twins, an old favorite, which he twists first one way and then another, proposing to the astrologers a series of dilemmas as he finds them likely to escape from each preceding one. He seems to have been much impressed by the thought that at the same instant and hence with the same horoscope persons were born whose subsequent lives and characters were different. He brings forward Esau and Jacob as examples, and states that he himself has known of twins of dissimilar sex and[Pg 515] life. Moreover, he tells us in his Confessions that he was finally induced to abandon his study of the books of the astrologers, from which the arguments of “Vindicianus, a keen old man, and of Nebridius, a youth of remarkable intellect,” had failed to win him, by hearing from another youth that his father, a man of wealth and rank, had been born at precisely the same moment as a certain wretched slave on the estate.[2195]

Thus blocked in his attempt to prove that astrologers control human will, even though he still hints that they do in other parts, Augustine takes a different approach, using twins, an old favorite topic. He twists the argument in different directions, presenting a series of dilemmas to the astrologers as he finds ways for them to escape each one. He seems to be quite struck by the idea that at the same moment, and thus with the same horoscope, people can be born whose lives and characters turn out to be very different. He cites Esau and Jacob as examples and mentions that he has personally known twins of different sexes and lives. Furthermore, he reveals in his Confessions that he ultimately decided to stop studying the books of the astrologers—whose arguments, notably those of “Vindicianus, a sharp old man, and Nebridius, a remarkably intelligent young man,” hadn’t convinced him—after hearing from another young man that his wealthy and respected father was born at exactly the same moment as a certain miserable slave on the estate.

Defense of the astrologers.

But the astrologers reply that even twins are not born at precisely the same instant and do not have the same horoscope, but are born under different constellations, so rapidly do the heavens revolve, as the astrologer Nigidius Figulus neatly illustrated by striking a rapidly revolving potter’s wheel two successive blows as quickly as he could in what appeared to be the same spot. But when the wheel was stopped and examined, the two marks were found to be far apart. Augustine’s counter argument is that if astrologers must take into account such small intervals of time, their observations and predictions can never attain sufficient accuracy to insure correct prediction; and that if so brief an instant of time is sufficient to alter the horoscope totally, then twins should not be as much alike as they are nor have as much in common as they do,—for instance, falling ill and recovering simultaneously. To this the astrologers are likely to respond that twins are alike because conceived at the same instant, but somewhat dissimilar in their life because of the difference in their times of birth. Augustine retorts that if two persons conceived simultaneously in the same womb may be born at different times and have different fates after birth, he sees no reason why persons who are born of different mothers at the same instant with the same horoscope may not die at different dates and lead different lives. But he does not recognize that very likely the astrologers would agree with him in this, since they often held that the influence of the stars was received variously by matter. He also asks why a certain sage is[Pg 516] said to have selected a certain hour for intercourse with his wife in order to beget a marvelous son—possibly an inaccurate allusion to the story of Nectanebus[2196]—unless the hour of conception controls the hour of birth, and consequently twins conceived together must have the same horoscope. He also objects that if twins fall sick at the same time because of their simultaneous conception, they should not be of opposite sex as sometimes happens.

But the astrologers reply that even twins aren’t born at exactly the same moment and don’t share the same horoscope; they’re born under different constellations because the heavens rotate so quickly. The astrologer Nigidius Figulus illustrated this by striking a rapidly spinning potter’s wheel twice as quickly as he could at what seemed like the same spot. But when the wheel was stopped and examined, the two marks were found to be quite far apart. Augustine counters by saying that if astrologers must consider even the smallest time intervals, their observations and predictions can never be accurate enough to guarantee correct predictions. If such a brief moment can completely change the horoscope, then twins shouldn't be as similar as they are or have as much in common as they do—for example, falling ill and recovering at the same time. To this, the astrologers might respond that twins are similar because they were conceived at the same time but differ in their lives due to their different birth times. Augustine replies that if two people conceived at the same time in the same womb can be born at different times and have different fates afterward, he sees no reason why individuals born of different mothers at the same moment with the same horoscope can’t die at different times and lead different lives. However, he doesn’t recognize that the astrologers might agree with him on this point, as they often believed that the influence of the stars is received differently by different matter. He also questions why a certain sage is said to have chosen a specific hour for intimacy with his wife to conceive a remarkable son—possibly an inaccurate reference to the story of Nectanebus—unless the time of conception determines the time of birth, which would mean that twins conceived together must share the same horoscope. He also argues that if twins get sick at the same time due to their simultaneous conception, they shouldn’t sometimes be of opposite sexes.

Elections.

With this Augustine turns from the case of twins to urge the inconsistency of the astrological doctrine of elections, suggested by the story of the sage who chose the favorable moment for intercourse with his wife. He holds that this practice of choosing favorable times is inconsistent with the belief in nativities which are supposed to have determined and predicted the individual’s fate already. He also inquires why men choose certain days for setting out trees and shrubs or breeding animals, if men alone are subject to the constellations.

With this, Augustine shifts from the case of twins to highlight the inconsistencies in the astrological doctrine of elections, referencing the story of the wise man who picked the right moment to be with his wife. He argues that this practice of selecting favorable times contradicts the belief in nativities, which are thought to have already predetermined and predicted an individual’s fate. He also questions why people choose specific days for planting trees and shrubs or for breeding animals if only humans are affected by the constellations.

Are animals and plants under the stars

This last clause indicates how exclusively Augustine’s attacks are directed against the prediction of man’s life from the stars, and how little he has to say regarding the stars’ control of the world of nature in general. He now goes on to consider this latter possibility, but interprets it too in the narrow sense of horoscope-casting, and as implying that every herb and beast must have its fate absolutely determined by the constellations at its moment of birth. This appears, however, to have been a widespread belief then, since he tells us that men are accustomed to test the skill of astrologers by submitting to them the horoscopes of dumb animals, and that the best astrologers are able not only to recognize that the reported constellations mark the birth of a beast rather than that of a human being, but also to state whether it was a horse, cow, dog, or sheep. Nevertheless, Augustine feels that he has reduced the art of casting horoscopes to an absurdity, as he feels sure that beasts and plants which are so numerous must frequently be born[Pg 517] at precisely the same instant as human beings. Furthermore, it is plain that crops which are sown and ripen simultaneously meet with very diverse fates in the end. Augustine thinks that by this argument he will force the astrologers to say that men alone are subject to the stars, and then he will triumphantly ask how this can be, when God has endowed man alone of all creatures with free will. Having thus argued more or less in a circle, Augustine regains the point from which he had started, or rather, retreated.

This last point shows how exclusively Augustine focuses his attacks on predicting human life based on the stars, and how little he mentions the stars’ influence on the natural world overall. He then considers this latter idea but interprets it narrowly as horoscope-casting, suggesting that every plant and animal must have its fate completely determined by the constellations at the time of its birth. However, this seems to have been a common belief at the time, as he notes that people often test the skills of astrologers by giving them the horoscopes of animals. The best astrologers can not only tell that the reported constellations correspond to an animal's birth rather than a human's, but they can also identify whether it was a horse, cow, dog, or sheep. Nevertheless, Augustine believes he has exposed the absurdity of casting horoscopes, as he is confident that the countless animals and plants must often be born at precisely the same moment as humans. Additionally, it’s clear that crops planted and harvested at the same time can experience very different outcomes. Augustine thinks that this argument will force the astrologers to claim that only humans are influenced by the stars, and then he will confidently ask how this can be when God has given only humans free will. Having made this argument in a somewhat circular way, Augustine ends up back where he started, or rather, has retreated.

Failure to disprove the control of nature by the stars.

Augustine cannot then be said to have advanced any telling arguments against some sort of control of inferior nature by the motions and influence of the heavenly bodies. He leaves the fundamental hypothesis of astrology unrebutted. His attention is concentrated upon genethlialogy, the superstition that the time and place of birth and nothing else determine with mathematical certainty and mechanical rigidity the entirety of one’s life. This seems nevertheless to have been a superstition which was very much alive in his time, which he felt he must take pains repeatedly to refute, and to which he himself had once been in bondage. But he could not have studied the books of the astrologers very deeply, as he ascribes views to them which many of them did not hold. Also he seems never to have read the Tetrabiblos of Ptolemy. His attack upon and criticism of astrology was therefore narrow, partial, and inadequate, and did not prevent medieval men from devoting themselves to that subject, although they might cite his objections against ascribing to the constellations an influence subversive of human free will. But he cannot be said to have admitted the control of the stars over the world of nature. Apparently the most that he was willing to concede was that it was not absurd to say that the influence of the stars might produce changes in material things, as in the varying seasons of the year caused by the sun’s course and the alternating augmentation and diminution of tides and shell-fish due, as he supposed, to the moon’s phases. He concludes his discussion of the subject in The City of God[Pg 518] by saying that, all things considered, if the astrologers make many marvelously true predictions, they do so by the aid and inspiration of the demons and not by the art of noting and inspecting horoscopes, which has no sound basis.

Augustine cannot be said to have provided any strong arguments against some type of control of lower nature by the movements and influence of celestial bodies. He leaves the core idea of astrology unchallenged. His focus is on genethlialogy, the belief that the time and place of birth alone determine one’s entire life with mathematical certainty and mechanical rigidity. This was clearly a belief that was very much alive in his time, one he felt he needed to repeatedly refute, and to which he himself had once been subjected. However, it appears he did not study the works of astrologers very thoroughly, as he attributes views to them that many did not actually hold. Additionally, he seems to have never read the Tetrabiblos by Ptolemy. His criticism of astrology was therefore narrow, limited, and insufficient, and it did not stop medieval scholars from engaging with the subject, even though they might reference his objections to attributing a subversive influence of the constellations on human free will. But he cannot be said to have accepted the control of the stars over the natural world. It seems the most he was willing to acknowledge was that it wasn't unreasonable to say that the influence of the stars might cause changes in physical things, like the changing seasons due to the sun’s path and the ebb and flow of tides and shellfish, which he believed were caused by the moon’s phases. He concludes his discussion on this topic in The City of God[Pg 518] by stating that, in the grand scheme of things, if astrologers make many impressively accurate predictions, they do so with the help and inspiration of demons, not through the practice of reading and interpreting horoscopes, which has no solid foundation.

Natural divination and prophetic visions.

In another work Augustine tells of some young men who, while traveling, as a boyish prank pretended to be astrologers and either by mere chance or by natural and innate power of divination hit upon the truth in the predictions which they supposed that they were inventing. In the same context he proceeds to discuss in a credulous way the possibility of marvelous prophetic visions, concerning which he tells one or two other tall tales from his personal experience. He is, however, doubtful how far the human soul itself possesses the power of divination, which he is inclined to attribute rather to spirits, good or bad. But owing to Satan’s ability in disguising himself as an angel of light it is often very difficult to tell to which sort of spirit to ascribe the vision in question.[2197]

In another work, Augustine talks about some young men who, while traveling, playfully pretended to be astrologers. Either by pure luck or by some natural ability to foresee things, they ended up getting their predictions right, even though they thought they were making them up. In the same discussion, he naively explores the idea of amazing prophetic visions, sharing a couple of tall tales from his own experiences. However, he questions how much power the human soul truly has for divination, leaning more towards the idea that it's spirits, whether good or bad, that are behind it. Yet, because Satan can disguise himself as an angel of light, it often becomes really hard to figure out which type of spirit is responsible for the vision in question.[2197]

The star at Christ’s birth.

In Augustine’s time there were those who held that Christ Himself had been “born under the decree of the stars,” because of the statement in the Gospel according to Matthew that the Magi had seen His star in the east. Of this matter Augustine treats in several of his works.[2198] He denies that this would be true even if other men were subject to the fatal influence of the stars, which he denies as usual on the ground of free will. He contends that the star was not one of the planets or constellations but a special creation, since it did not keep to a regular course or orbit, but came to where the child lay. But how did the Magi know that it was the star of Christ when they saw it in the east, unless by astrology? Augustine can only suggest that this was revealed to them by spirits, whether good or bad he does not know.[2199] Augustine further affirms that the star did not[Pg 519] cause Christ to live a marvelous life, but Christ caused the star to make its marvelous appearance. “For, when born of a mother, He showed earth a new star in the sky, Who, when born of the Father, formed both heaven and earth.” And, “when He is born, new light is revealed in a star; when He dies, old light is veiled in the sun.” But these rhetorical flourishes and antitheses seem to attest rather than dispute the significance of celestial phenomena, so that Augustine cannot be said to have answered the astrological contention anent Christ’s birth very satisfactorily.

In Augustine's time, some believed that Christ was "born under the decree of the stars" because the Gospel of Matthew mentions that the Magi saw His star in the east. Augustine discusses this in several of his works. He argues that this wouldn't be true even if other people were influenced by the stars, which he rejects on the grounds of free will. He claims that the star wasn't one of the planets or constellations but a unique creation, as it didn't follow a regular path but instead came to where the child was. However, how did the Magi know it was Christ's star when they saw it in the east, if not by astrology? Augustine suggests that spirits, whether good or bad, revealed this to them, although he isn't sure. Augustine also emphasizes that the star didn't make Christ's life remarkable; rather, Christ caused the star to appear in its extraordinary way. "For, when born of a mother, He showed earth a new star in the sky, Who, when born of the Father, formed both heaven and earth." And, "when He is born, new light is revealed in a star; when He dies, old light is veiled in the sun." However, these rhetorical flourishes and contrasts seem to affirm rather than refute the significance of celestial events, which means Augustine's response to the astrological argument regarding Christ’s birth isn't very convincing.

Nature of the stars.

The problem of the nature of the stars is one which Augustine prefers to leave unsolved, although it comes up several times in his writings.[2200] Whether they are simply lucid bodies without sense or intelligence, as some think; or have happy intellectual souls of their own, as Plato taught; whether they are to be classed with the Seats, Dominions, Principalities, and Powers of whom the apostle speaks; and whether they are ruled and animated by spirits: all these are questions which Augustine puts, but concerning whose answers he feels uncertain. His fullest discussion of the matter is in a letter against the Priscillianists to which we now come.

The question of what the stars really are is one that Augustine chooses to leave unanswered, even though it appears multiple times in his writings. [2200] Are they just bright objects without any awareness or intelligence, as some believe? Or do they have happy, intelligent souls of their own, as Plato suggested? Are they similar to the Seats, Dominions, Principalities, and Powers mentioned by the apostle? And are they governed and given life by spirits? These are the questions Augustine raises, but he feels uncertain about their answers. His most detailed discussion on this topic is in a letter against the Priscillianists, which we will now examine.

Orosius on the Priscillianists and Origenists.

An interchange of letters between Augustine and his Spanish disciple Orosius deals with the error of the Priscillianists and Origenists.[2201] Nothing is said to convict them of magic, which was, however, the charge on which Pris[Pg 520]cillian was put to death, but astrological tenets are ascribed to them. Orosius states that Priscillian taught that the soul was born of God and instructed by angels, but that it descended through certain circles of the heavens and was caught by evil principalities and thrust into different bodies; and that it remained subject to Mathesis or the laws of astrology until Christ set it free by His passion on the cross. Like the astrologers, continues Orosius, Priscillian associated the signs of the zodiac with the different members of the human body, Aries and the head, Taurus and the neck, and so on;[2202] and he also taught that the names of the patriarchs of the twelve tribes were “members of the soul,” Reuben in the head, Judah in the breast, Levi in the heart, and so on. Orosius adds that the Origenists regard the sun, moon, and stars not as elemental luminaries but as rational powers; and we have seen that Origen himself did so.

An exchange of letters between Augustine and his Spanish disciple Orosius addresses the mistakes of the Priscillianists and Origenists.[2201] Nothing is mentioned to accuse them of magic, which was the reason Priscillian was executed, but they are attributed astrological beliefs. Orosius claims that Priscillian taught that the soul originated from God and was guided by angels, but that it descended through various spheres of heaven, caught by evil powers, and forced into different bodies; that it remained under the influence of Mathesis or the laws of astrology until Christ liberated it through His passion on the cross. Like the astrologers, Orosius explains, Priscillian linked the zodiac signs to different parts of the human body—Aries with the head, Taurus with the neck, and so on;[2202] and he also taught that the names of the patriarchs of the twelve tribes were “members of the soul,” with Reuben in the head, Judah in the breast, Levi in the heart, and so forth. Orosius adds that the Origenists view the sun, moon, and stars not as physical lights but as rational powers; and we have seen that Origen himself did the same.

Augustine’s letter.

Augustine in his reply states that we can see that the sun, moon, and stars are celestial bodies, but not that they are animated. He agrees firmly with Paul that there are Seats, Dominions, Principalities, and Powers in the heavens, “but I do not know what they are or what the difference is between them.” On the whole, Augustine is inclined to regard this state of ignorance as a blissful one. He is somewhat troubled by the verses in the Book of Job, “How shall man be just in the sight of God, or how shall one born of woman purify himself? If He commands the moon and it does not shine, and if the stars are not pure before Him, how much more is man rottenness and the son of man a worm?” From this passage the Priscillianists infer that the stars have a rational spirit and are not free from sin, yet are placed in the heaven because their fault is less than that of sinful mankind. Origen too had argued, “If the stars are living and rational beings, there will undoubtedly appear among them both an advance and a falling back. For the language of Job, ‘the stars are not clean in His[Pg 521] sight,’ seems to me to convey some such idea.”[2203] Augustine evades this difficulty by questioning whether this passage is to be received as of divine authority, since it is uttered by one of Job’s comforters and not by Job himself, of whom alone it is said that he had not sinned with his lips against God.

Augustine, in his response, points out that we can see the sun, moon, and stars as celestial bodies, but we can't know if they are alive. He strongly agrees with Paul that there are Seats, Dominions, Principalities, and Powers in the heavens, “but I don't know what they are or how they differ from one another.” Overall, Augustine tends to see this lack of knowledge as a blissful state. He's somewhat disturbed by the verses in the Book of Job: “How can a person be righteous in God’s sight, or how can someone born of a woman make themselves pure? If He commands the moon and it doesn’t shine, and if the stars aren’t flawless before Him, how much more corrupt is man and how much more is the son of man just a worm?” The Priscillianists interpret this passage to mean that the stars have a rational spirit and aren't free from sin, yet they are in heaven because their faults are less than those of sinful humans. Origen also argued, “If the stars are living and rational beings, there will surely be both progress and decline among them. The statement from Job that ‘the stars aren’t clean in His sight’ seems to convey an idea like that.” Augustine avoids this difficulty by questioning whether this passage should be accepted as divinely authoritative, since it’s spoken by one of Job’s comforters and not by Job himself, who alone is said to have not sinned against God with his words.

Attitude towards astronomy.

So set is Augustine against astrology that he even holds that Christians may well leave the subject of astronomy alone, “because it is related to the most pernicious error of those who utter a fatuous fatalism,” although he recognizes that there is nothing superstitious in predicting the future positions of the stars themselves from knowledge of their past movements. But except that to know the course of the moon is useful in determining the date of Easter, knowledge of the stars is of little or no help in interpreting the divine Scriptures.[2204] In another passage Augustine is somewhat perturbed by the assertion of astronomers that there are many stars equal to or greater than the sun in size, but which seem smaller because they are farther off,—an assertion which seems to conflict with the statement of Genesis that in creating the sun and moon “God made two great lights.” Augustine, however, does not stop to contest the point at length but leaves it with the excuse that Christians have many better and more serious matters to occupy their time than such subtle investigations concerning the relative magnitude of the stars and the intervals of space between them.[2205]

Augustine is so opposed to astrology that he believes Christians should avoid the topic of astronomy altogether, “because it is tied to the most harmful error of those who express a foolish fatalism.” He does acknowledge that predicting the future positions of stars based on their past movements isn’t superstitious. However, aside from the fact that knowing the moon’s cycle is helpful for determining the date of Easter, understanding the stars offers little to no insight into interpreting the divine Scriptures. In another section, Augustine expresses some concern about astronomers claiming there are many stars that are equal to or larger than the sun in size, which appear smaller because they are farther away—this seems to contradict Genesis, which states that in creating the sun and moon, “God made two great lights.” Yet, Augustine doesn’t argue this point extensively; he simply notes that Christians have much more important matters to focus on than the intricate details of the stars' size and the distances between them.

Perfect numbers.

Augustine himself, however, was not above occupying his readers’ time with discussion of the occult significance of numbers, towards belief in which he shows himself inclined. Six was a perfect number in his estimation, since God had created the world in six days, although He might have taken less or more time; and the Psalmist made no idle remark in saying that the Deity had ordered all things ac[Pg 522]cording to measure, number, and weight. Also six is the first number which can be obtained from adding together its factors: one, two, and three. Augustine was going on to say that seven was also a perfect number, when he checked himself lest he digress at too great length and seem “too eager to display his smattering of science.” Hence he merely added that one indication of seven’s perfection was its composition of the first complete odd number, three, and the first complete even number, four.[2206] It is therefore not surprising to find ascribed to Augustine a sermon on the correspondence between the ten plagues of Egypt and the ten commandments which opens by remarking that it is not without cause that the number of precepts in God’s law is the same as the number of plagues with which Egypt was afflicted.[2207]

Augustine himself, however, didn't shy away from spending his readers' time discussing the hidden meanings of numbers, a topic he seemed to be quite interested in. He considered six a perfect number since God created the world in six days, even though He could have taken less or more time. The Psalmist made a relevant point when saying that God ordered everything according to measure, number, and weight. Additionally, six is the first number you get by adding its factors: one, two, and three. Augustine was about to claim that seven was also a perfect number, but he stopped himself to avoid drifting off topic and appearing “too eager to show off his limited knowledge.” Instead, he simply noted that one sign of seven’s perfection is that it combines the first complete odd number, three, and the first complete even number, four. Therefore, it’s not surprising that Augustine is attributed with a sermon connecting the ten plagues of Egypt to the ten commandments, which begins by pointing out that there’s a good reason the number of rules in God’s law matches the number of plagues that struck Egypt.


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CHAPTER XXIII
THE FUSION OF PAGAN AND CHRISTIAN THOUGHT IN THE FOURTH AND FIFTH CENTURIES

Need of qualifying the patristic attitude—Plan of this chapter—Julius Firmicus Maternus—Date of the Mathesis—Are the attitudes in Firmicus’ two works incompatible?—De errore is not unfavorable to astrology—Attitude of both works to the emperors—Religious attitude of the Mathesis—An astrologer’s prayer—Christian objections to astrology met—Astrology proved experimentally—Information to be gained from the third and fourth books—Religion and magic; exorcists—Divination—Magic as a branch of learning—Interest in science—Diseases in antiquity—Place of Firmicus in the history of astrology—Libanius accused of magic—Declamation against a magician—Faith of Libanius in divination—Magic and astrology in Pseudo-Quintilian declamations—Fusion of Christianity and paganism in Synesius of Cyrene—His career—His interest in science—Belief in occult sympathy between natural objects—Synesius on divination and astrology—Synesius as an alchemist—Macrobius on number, dreams, and stars—Martianus Capella—Absence of astrology—Orders of spirits—The Celestial Hierarchy of Dionysius the Areopagite.

Need to qualify the patristic attitude—Plan for this chapter—Julius Firmicus Maternus—Date of the Mathesis—Are the perspectives in Firmicus’ two works incompatible?—De errore is not against astrology—Attitudes of both works towards the emperors—Religious perspective of the Mathesis—An astrologer’s prayer—Christian objections to astrology addressed—Astrology proved through experimentation—Insights to be gained from the third and fourth books—Religion and magic; exorcists—Divination—Magic as a field of study—Interest in science—Diseases in ancient times—Role of Firmicus in the history of astrology—Libanius accused of practicing magic—Speech against a magician—Libanius’ belief in divination—Magic and astrology in Pseudo-Quintilian speeches—Blend of Christianity and paganism in Synesius of Cyrene—His career—His interest in science—Belief in hidden connections between natural objects—Synesius on divination and astrology—Synesius as an alchemist—Macrobius on numbers, dreams, and stars—Martianus Capella—Lack of astrology—Orders of spirits—The Celestial Hierarchy of Dionysius the Areopagite.

Need of qualifying the patristic attitude.

In reading the writings of the Christian fathers one is impressed by the fact that their tone is almost invariably that of the preacher. In estimating therefore the practical effect of their utterances it is well to remember that these are counsels of perfection which were probably often not realized even by those who gave utterance to them. This is not to accuse the fathers of being pharisaical, but to suggest that as both clerics and apologists they were professionally bound to take up an irreproachable position morally and dogmatically. Basil has shown us that the audience who listened to his sermons were still under the spell of Roman amusements, dice, theater, and arena. And the average lay Christian mind was probably more easy-going in its attitude toward magic and superstition than Augustine. Not merely[Pg 524] laymen, moreover, but Christian clergy and apologists of the declining Roman Empire might still hold to divination and astrology. It was a time, as has often been remarked, of religious syncretism, of fusion of pagan and Christian thought, when it is not always easy to tell whether the author of an extant writing is Christian or Neo-Platonist or both. Mr. Gwatkin states that “the surface thought” of Constantine’s time, “Christian as well as heathen, tended to a vague monotheism which looked on Christ and the sun as almost equally good symbols of the Supreme.”[2208] Others believed that astrology was the truth back of all religions.[2209]

In reading the writings of the early Christian leaders, you can't help but notice that their tone is almost always that of a preacher. So when considering the practical impact of what they said, it’s important to remember that these are ideals of perfection that those who expressed them likely didn’t fully achieve themselves. This isn't to say that the leaders were hypocritical, but rather to point out that, as both clergy and defenders of the faith, they were expected to maintain an impeccable moral and doctrinal stance. Basil showed us that the people listening to his sermons were still under the influence of Roman entertainment, such as dice games, theater, and gladiator shows. The average lay Christian was probably more relaxed about magic and superstition than Augustine. Furthermore, not just regular people, but also Christian clergy and apologists from the declining Roman Empire may still have believed in divination and astrology. This was a period, as has often been noted, of religious blending, where pagan and Christian ideas fused, making it hard to determine whether the author of a surviving text was Christian, Neo-Platonist, or a mix of both. Mr. Gwatkin pointed out that “the surface thought” of Constantine’s era, “Christian as well as heathen, tended toward a vague monotheism that regarded Christ and the sun as almost equally valid symbols of the Supreme.”[2208] Others believed that astrology was the fundamental truth behind all religions.[2209]

Plan of this chapter.

In this chapter we shall therefore consider some writers of the fourth and fifth century who attest the existence of magic and astrology then, the influence of paganism on Christianity and of Christianity on paganism, and the fusion of Neo-Platonism, Christianity, and astrological theory. This, indeed, we have already done to some extent, as our previous chapters on Neo-Platonism and on the Christian fathers have carried us more or less into those centuries. But now as an offset to Augustine we take up other writers who have not yet been treated: Firmicus, the Latin Christian apologist and the astrologer of the mid-fourth century; Libanius, the Greek sophist of the same century; Macrobius and Synesius, Neo-Platonists writing respectively in Latin and Greek at the beginning of the fifth century, and of whom one was a Christian bishop; and probably in the same century the discussion of spirits by Martianus Capella in Latin and the Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite in Greek. Except for Libanius and Synesius, these authors were very influential in medieval Latin learning and might serve as well for an introduction to our following book on The Early Middle Ages as for a conclusion to this.

In this chapter, we will look at some writers from the fourth and fifth centuries who confirm the presence of magic and astrology at that time, the influence of paganism on Christianity and vice versa, and the blend of Neo-Platonism, Christianity, and astrological theory. We have already touched on this to some degree in our earlier chapters focused on Neo-Platonism and the Christian fathers, which brought us into those centuries. Now, in contrast to Augustine, we will explore other authors we haven't covered yet: Firmicus, the Latin Christian apologist and astrologer from the mid-fourth century; Libanius, the Greek sophist from the same period; Macrobius and Synesius, Neo-Platonists writing in Latin and Greek at the beginning of the fifth century, one of whom was a Christian bishop; and possibly in the same century, a discussion of spirits by Martianus Capella in Latin and Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite in Greek. Except for Libanius and Synesius, these writers were very influential in medieval Latin education and could serve as an introduction to our next book on The Early Middle Ages as well as a conclusion to this one.

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Julius Firmicus Maternus

Julius Firmicus Maternus[2210] flourished during the reigns of Constantine the Great and his sons. Sicily was his native land; he was of senatorial rank and very well educated for his time, showing interest in natural philosophy, literature, and rhetoric. Two works are extant under his name: one, On the Error of Profane Religions,[2211] is addressed to Constantius and Constans, 340-350 A. D., and urges them to eradicate pagan cults. The other, Mathesis,[2212] is a work of astrology written at the request of a similarly cultured friend, Lollianus or Mavortius, who is spoken of in the preface as ordinario consuli designato,[2213] an office which we know that he held in 355 A. D. The writing of two such works by one man has long given critics pause, and is a splendid warning against taking anything for granted in our study of the past. Not long ago the general opinion was that there must have been two different authors by the name of Firmicus. This very unlikely theory has now been universally abandoned, as unmistakable similarities in style and wording have been noted in the two works. But it is still maintained that “there is no question but that he was a pagan when he wrote his astrological book.”[2214] This involves two considerations, whether the attitude expressed in[Pg 526] the two works is really incompatible and whether the Mathesis was written before or after the De errore.

Julius Firmicus Maternus[2210] thrived during the reigns of Constantine the Great and his sons. He was originally from Sicily, held a high status as a senator, and received a great education for his time, taking an interest in natural philosophy, literature, and rhetoric. Two works are still available under his name: one, On the Error of Profane Religions,[2211] was addressed to Constantius and Constans between 340-350 A.D., urging them to eliminate pagan cults. The other, Mathesis,[2212] is an astrological work written at the request of a similarly educated friend, Lollianus or Mavortius, who is mentioned in the preface as ordinario consuli designato,[2213] a position we know he held in 355 A.D. The existence of two such works by the same individual has caused critics to pause for thought and serves as a clear reminder not to take anything for granted in our studies of the past. Until recently, the general belief was that there were likely two different authors with the name Firmicus. This unlikely theory has now been completely abandoned, as clear similarities in style and language have been identified in both works. However, it's still argued that “there is no question that he was a pagan when he wrote his astrological book.”[2214] This raises two important questions: whether the views expressed in[Pg 526] the two works are truly incompatible and whether the Mathesis was created before or after the De errore.

Date of the Mathesis.

Mommsen contended that “it is beyond doubt”[2215] that the Mathesis was written between 334 and 337 A. D., relying chiefly upon several apparent mentions of Constantine the Great as still living. The names, Constantine and Constantius are frequently confused in the sources, however,[2216] and even while the words, “Constantinum maximum principem et huius invictissimos liberos, domines et Caesares nostros,” seem to refer unmistakably to Constantine, it must be remembered that they occur in a prayer to the planets and to the supreme God that Constantine and his children may “rule over our posterity and the posterity of our posterity through infinite succession of ages.” As this is simply equivalent to expressing a hope that the dynasty may never become extinct, it is scarcely proof positive that Constantine the Great was still living when Firmicus published his book. On the other hand, to maintain the early date Mommsen was forced to treat the mention of Lollianus as ordinario consuli designato as mere prophetic flattery or as an appointment held up by Constantius for eighteen years. We know that Firmicus addressed the De errore to Constantius and Constans, probably between 345 and 350; we know that Lollianus was city prefect of Rome in 342, consul ordinarius in 355, and praetorian prefect in the following year; whereas we know nothing certainly of either of them before 337. Furthermore Firmicus explicitly states that the writing of the Mathesis has been long delayed,[2217] and when the promise to compose it was first made, it is evident that neither he nor Lollianus was a young man. Lollianus was already consularis of Campania and according to inscriptions had[Pg 527] previously held a number of other offices; while still in this position Lollianus had frequently to spur his friend on to the task which Firmicus as frequently “gave up in despair.” Then Lollianus became Count of all the Orient and continued his importunities. Finally, after Lollianus has become proconsul and ordinary consul elect, Firmicus completes the work and presents it to him. Meanwhile Firmicus himself—who had formerly “resisted with unbending confidence and firmness” factious and wicked and avaricious men, “who from fear of law-suits seemed terrible to the unfortunate”; and who “with liberal mind, despising forensic gains, to men in trouble ... displayed a pure and faithful defense in the courts of law,” by which upright conduct he incurred much enmity and danger;[2218]—has retired from the sordid sphere of law courts and forum to spend his leisure with the divine men of old of Egypt and Babylon and to purify his spirit by contemplation of the everlasting stars and of the God who works through them. Yet we are asked to believe—if we accept a date before 337 for the Mathesis—not merely that he writes a vehement invective against “profane religions” a decade later, but also that twenty years after Lollianus is still a vigorous administrator.[2219] It is possible, but seems unlikely.

Mommsen argued that “there’s no doubt”[2215] that the Mathesis was written between 334 and 337 A.D., mainly based on several references to Constantine the Great as still alive. However, the names Constantine and Constantius often get mixed up in sources,[2216] and even though the phrase, “Constantinum maximum principem et huius invictissimos liberos, domines et Caesares nostros,” seems to clearly refer to Constantine, it’s important to note that it appears in a prayer to the planets and the supreme God asking for Constantine and his children to “rule over our descendants and our descendants' descendants through endless ages.” This is simply a way of expressing a hope that the dynasty won't die out, and it hardly proves that Constantine the Great was still alive when Firmicus published his book. On the other hand, to support the early date, Mommsen had to dismiss the mention of Lollianus as ordinario consuli designato as merely prophetic flattery or as an appointment that Constantius held up for eighteen years. We know that Firmicus directed the De errore to Constantius and Constans, likely between 345 and 350; Lollianus was city prefect of Rome in 342, consul ordinarius in 355, and praetorian prefect the next year; yet we know nothing definite about either of them before 337. Additionally, Firmicus explicitly states that the writing of the Mathesis was long delayed,[2217] and when he first promised to write it, it’s clear that neither he nor Lollianus was young. Lollianus was already consularis of Campania and, according to inscriptions, had[Pg 527] previously held several other offices; while still in this role, Lollianus often had to motivate his friend, who frequently “gave up in despair.” Later, Lollianus became Count of all the Orient and continued to urge him on. Eventually, after Lollianus became proconsul and ordinary consul elect, Firmicus finished the work and presented it to him. In the meantime, Firmicus—who had previously “fought with unwavering confidence and strength” against factional, wicked, and greedy men, “who seemed terrifying to the unfortunate out of fear of lawsuits”; and who “with a generous spirit, disregarding legal profits, offered pure and faithful defense in court to those in trouble,” which earned him much enmity and danger;[2218]—has stepped away from the messy world of courts and forums to spend his time with the wise figures of ancient Egypt and Babylon, purifying his spirit through contemplation of the eternal stars and the God who works through them. Yet we’re asked to believe—if we accept a date earlier than 337 for the Mathesis—not only that he writes a passionate critique against “profane religions” a decade later but also that twenty years later, Lollianus is still an active administrator.[2219] It’s possible, but seems unlikely.

Are the attitudes in Firmicus’ two works incompatible?

Certainly the date of the Mathesis should be determined without any assumption as to what Firmicus’ religion was when he wrote it. For, if we regard his attitudes in Mathesis and De errore as incompatible, it will be as difficult to explain how he could write the De errore after having composed the Mathesis as vice versa. After the steadfast affirmation of astrological principles in the Mathesis it is no easier to explain the fierce spirit of intolerance toward paganism in the De errore than it is after the mention of Christ in the De errore to explain the omission of that name in the Mathesis. But are the two works really incompatible? My answer is, No. The divergences are such as may be ex[Pg 528]plained by the different character of the two works and the different circumstances under which they were written. De errore is an impassioned polemic very possibly delivered as an oration before the emperors; Mathesis is a learned compilation on a pseudo-scientific subject composed at leisure for a friend with the help of previous treatises on the subject. Why should Firmicus mention Christ in the Mathesis? Does Boethius, after nearly two centuries more of Christian growth and although he wrote a work on the Trinity, mention Christ in The Consolation of Philosophy? Some apparent petty inconsistencies there may be between Firmicus’ two works, but if we accept a host of contradictions in Constantine the Great, the first Christian emperor, why balk at some inconsistency in a writer who urges Constantine’s children against profane cults? On the other hand, there are some striking correspondences between the De errore and Mathesis.

Certainly, we should determine the date of the Mathesis without making assumptions about what Firmicus believed when he wrote it. If we see his views in Mathesis and De errore as contradictory, it will be just as hard to explain how he could have written De errore after Mathesis as it would be the other way around. After his strong affirmation of astrological principles in Mathesis, it’s just as difficult to explain the fierce intolerance towards paganism in De errore as it is to explain the absence of Christ’s name in Mathesis after his mention in De errore. But are the two works truly incompatible? My answer is no. The differences can be explained by the distinct nature of the two works and the different circumstances under which they were written. De errore is an impassioned argument that was possibly delivered as a speech before the emperors; Mathesis is a scholarly compilation on a pseudo-scientific topic created at leisure for a friend, drawing on previous writings on the subject. Why would Firmicus mention Christ in Mathesis? Does Boethius, after nearly two more centuries of Christian development and despite writing a work on the Trinity, mention Christ in The Consolation of Philosophy? There may be some superficial inconsistencies between Firmicus’ two works, but if we accept numerous contradictions in Constantine the Great, the first Christian emperor, why hesitate over some inconsistency in a writer who advises Constantine’s children against pagan worship? On the other hand, there are also some striking similarities between De errore and Mathesis.

De errore is not unfavorable to astrology.

It is noteworthy in the first place that in the De errore Firmicus does not attack astrology. But if he had been converted to Christianity since writing the Mathesis and had abandoned the astrological doctrine there expounded, would he have failed to attack the error of that art like Augustine who testified that he had once believed in nativities? It is therefore obvious that Firmicus does not regard astrology as an error even at the time when he is penning the De errore as a Christian apologist. Moreover, his view of nature in the De errore is quite in accord with that of the astrologer, and he manifests the respect for natural science or physica ratio which one would expect from the author of the Mathesis. Thus we find him criticizing certain pagan cults as sharply for their incorrect physical notions as he does others for travestying Christian mysteries. In its opening chapters certain oriental religions are criticized for exalting each some one of the four elements above the others, and for neglecting that superior control of the world of terrestrial nature in which both Christian and astrologer confided. Another argument against pagan worships is that they include[Pg 529] human and immoral elements which cannot be explained as based upon natural law[2220] and the rule of that supreme God or “God the fabricator,” “who composed all things by the orderly method of divine workmanship,”—phrases which, as Ziegler has shown,[2221] occur both in the De errore and Mathesis. Furthermore, in the De errore Firmicus’ allusions to the planets, which include a representation of the Sun making a reproachful address to certain pagans,[2222] indicate that he regarded the stars as of immense importance in the administration of the universe.

It’s important to note that in the De errore, Firmicus does not criticize astrology. But if he had converted to Christianity after writing the Mathesis and had rejected the astrological teachings he presented there, wouldn’t he have condemned the falsehood of that practice, similar to Augustine, who admitted he once believed in horoscopes? It’s clear that Firmicus does not consider astrology an error, even while he is writing the De errore as a Christian defender. Additionally, his understanding of nature in the De errore aligns closely with that of astrologers, and he shows a respect for natural science or physica ratio that one would expect from the author of the Mathesis. We see him sharply criticizing certain pagan cults for their incorrect physical beliefs just as he does others for misrepresenting Christian mysteries. In its early chapters, some Eastern religions are criticized for prioritizing one of the four elements over the others, while neglecting the higher control of the natural world that both Christians and astrologers trusted. Another point against pagan worship is that it includes human and immoral elements that cannot be justified by natural law and the supremacy of that ultimate God or “God the creator,” “who made everything through the orderly process of divine craftsmanship”—phrases that, as Ziegler has shown, appear in both the De errore and Mathesis. Moreover, in the De errore, Firmicus’ references to the planets, including an image of the Sun making a reproving statement to certain pagans, indicate that he saw the stars as extremely significant in the governance of the universe.

Attitude of both works to the emperors.

It is also worth remarking that in both works Firmicus sets the emperors above the rest of mankind and closely associates them with the celestial bodies and “the supreme God.” If in Mathesis he prays for the perpetuation of the line of Constantine and forbids astrologers to make predictions concerning the emperor on the ground that his fate is not subject to the stars but directly to the supreme God, “and inasmuch as the whole surface of the earth is subject to the emperor, he too is reckoned in the number of those gods whom the principal divinity has established to perform and preserve all things”:[2223]—if he says this in Mathesis, in De errore he repeatedly addresses the emperors as “most holy”[2224] and in one passage says, “You now, O Constantius and Constans, most holy emperors, and the virtue of your venerated faith must be implored. It is erected above men and, separated from earthly frailty, joins in alliance with things celestial and in all its acts so far as it can follows the will of the supreme God.... Your felicity is joined with God’s virtue, with Christ fighting at your side you have triumphed on behalf of human safety.”[2225]

It’s also important to note that in both works, Firmicus puts the emperors above everyone else and links them closely to celestial bodies and “the supreme God.” In Mathesis, he prays for the continuation of Constantine's lineage and prohibits astrologers from making predictions about the emperor, arguing that his fate isn’t determined by the stars but directly by the supreme God. He states, “Since the entire surface of the earth is under the emperor's authority, he is considered among the gods established by the principal deity to perform and maintain all things.”[2223]—In De errore, he consistently refers to the emperors as “most holy”[2224] and at one point says, “You now, O Constantius and Constans, most holy emperors, your revered faith must be called upon. It stands above humanity, untouched by earthly weakness, and aligns with celestial matters, following the will of the supreme God as much as possible in all its actions.... Your well-being is united with God’s strength, and with Christ fighting at your side, you have succeeded for the sake of human safety.”[2225]

Religious attitude of the Mathesis.

If the author of De errore is not unfavorable to astrology the author of the Mathesis is strongly inclined towards mon[Pg 530]otheism and decidedly religious. He indignantly repels the accusation that astrology, which teaches that “all our acts are arranged by the divine courses of the stars,” draws men away “from the cult of the gods and of religions.” “We cause the gods to be feared and worshiped, we demonstrate their might and majesty.”[2226] The passage just quoted and some others are suggestive of polytheism, and Firmicus frequently speaks of the planets as “gods.” Probably in this he is reproducing the phraseology and reflecting the attitude of the astrological works which he uses as his authorities and which belong to the period of the pagan past. His apotelesmata, too, or predictions of nativities for various horoscopes, give little or no indication of being especially adapted to a Christian society, although in some other respects they fit his own age.[2227] But while the work contains a considerable residue of paganism, its prevailing conception of deity is one supreme God, the rector of the planets, “who composed all things by the arrangement of everlasting law,”[2228] and who made man the microcosm from the four elements.[2229] He is prayed to thus:

If the author of De errore is not against astrology, the author of Mathesis is very much in favor of monotheism and is clearly religious. He angrily rejects the claim that astrology, which suggests that “all our actions are determined by the divine movements of the stars,” distracts people “from the worship of the gods and religions.” “We make the gods fearsome and worthy of worship; we showcase their power and greatness.”[2226] The quoted passage and others hint at polytheism, and Firmicus often refers to the planets as “gods.” He likely uses this language and reflects the views from the astrological texts he cites, which date back to the pagan era. His apotelesmata, or natal predictions for different horoscopes, show little to no adaptation for a Christian society, although in some ways they do resonate with his time.[2227] Yet, while the work contains a significant amount of paganism, its dominant view of divinity is one supreme God, who governs the planets, “who created all things through the order of eternal law,”[2228] and who made humanity a microcosm from the four elements.[2229] He is addressed in prayer as follows:

An astrologer’s prayer.

“But lest my words be bereft of divine aid and the envy of some hateful man impugn them by hostile attacks, whoever thou art, God, who continuest day after day the course of the heavens in rapid rotation, who perpetuatest the mobile agitation of ocean’s tides, who strengthenest earth’s solidity in the immovable strength of its foundations, who refreshest with night’s sleep the toil of our earthly bodies, who when our strength is renewed returnest the grace of sweetest light, who stirrest all the substance of thy work by the salutary breath of the winds, who pourest forth the waves of streams and fountains in tireless force, who revolvest the varied seasons by sure periods of days: sole Governor and Prince of all, sole Emperor and Lord, whom all the celestial forces[Pg 531] serve, whose will is the substance of perfect work, by whose faultless laws all nature is forever adorned and regulated; thou Father alike and Mother of every thing, thou bound to thyself, Father and Son, by one bond of relationship; to Thee we extend suppliant hands, Thee with trembling supplication we venerate; grant us grace to attempt the explanation of the courses of thy stars; thine is the power that somehow impels us to that interpretation. With a mind pure and separated from all earthly thoughts and purged from every stain of sin we have written these books for thy Romans.”[2230] Doubtless these words might have been written by a Neo-Platonist or a pagan, but it also seems likely that they were penned by a Christian astrologer.

“But lest my words lack divine assistance and the jealousy of some spiteful person undermine them with hostile criticism, whoever you are, God, who continues day after day to guide the heavens in rapid motion, who keeps the ocean's tides in constant movement, who fortifies the earth's stability with unshakeable foundations, who refreshes our weary bodies with the sleep of night, who, when our strength is restored, brings back the grace of gentle light, who sets into motion all the essence of your creation through the healing breath of the winds, who unleashes the flows of streams and fountains with relentless force, who governs the changing seasons with reliable cycles of days: sole Ruler and Prince of all, sole Emperor and Lord, whom all the celestial forces[Pg 531] serve, whose will shapes the essence of perfect work, by whose flawless laws all nature is eternally adorned and ordered; you are the Father and Mother of everything, you bound to yourself, Father and Son, by one bond of kinship; to You we extend pleading hands, You we venerate with trembling supplication; grant us the grace to attempt to explain the paths of your stars; yours is the power that somehow drives us towards that understanding. With a mind pure and free from all earthly thoughts and cleansed of every sin, we have written these books for your Romans.”[2230] Doubtless these words might have been written by a Neo-Platonist or a pagan, but it also seems likely that they were penned by a Christian astrologer.

Christian objections to astrology met.

Firmicus provides not only for divine government of the universe and creation of the world and man, but also for prayer to God and for human free will,[2231] since by the divinity of the soul we are able to resist in some measure the decrees of the stars. He also holds that human laws and moral standards are not rendered of no avail by the force of the stars but are very useful to the soul in its struggle by the power of the divine mind against the vices of the body.[2232] Indeed, not only is the astrologer himself urged at considerable length to lead a pure, upright, and unselfish life, but “to show the right way of living to sinful men, so that, reformed by your teaching, they may be freed from the errors of their past life.”[2233] The human soul is also immortal, a spark of that same divine mind which through the stars exerts its influence upon terrestrial bodies.[2234] All this may be consistent or not both with itself and with the art of astrology, but it meets the chief objections that Christians might make and had made to the art.

Firmicus explains not only the divine control of the universe and the creation of the world and humanity but also the importance of prayer to God and human free will,[2231] since our soul's divinity allows us to resist the dictates of the stars to some extent. He argues that human laws and moral principles are not rendered useless by the stars' influence but are actually very helpful to the soul in its struggle against the body's vices, supported by the divine mind.[2232] In fact, he emphasizes that the astrologer should strive to live a pure, honest, and selfless life, and “to guide sinful people toward the right way of living, so that, enlightened by your teachings, they can overcome the mistakes of their past.”[2233] The human soul is also immortal, a spark of that same divine mind which influences earthly bodies through the stars.[2234] This may or may not align with itself or the practice of astrology, but it addresses the main objections that Christians could raise or have raised against the practice.

Astrology proved experimentally.

These and other objections to the art of nativities are the theme to which the first of the eight books of the Ma[Pg 532]thesis is devoted. Firmicus points out that some of the other objections to astrology do not correctly state the doctrines of that art; others he admits are ingenious arguments which sound well on paper but he insists that if the opponents of astrology, instead of protesting that the influence of the stars at a given instant is incalculable, would put the matter to the test experimentally,[2235] they would soon be convinced of the truth of astrologers’ predictions, although he grants that unskilful astrologers sometimes give wrong responses. But he insists that persons who have not tested astrology experimentally are unfit to pass upon its merits.[2236] He affirms that the human spirit which has discovered so many other sciences and to which so much of divinity and religion has been revealed is capable also of casting horoscopes, and that astrological prediction is a relatively easy task compared to the mapping out of the whole heavens and courses of the stars which the mathematici have already performed so successfully.[2237] And he does not see why anyone persists in denying the power of fate in human affairs when all about him he can see the innocent suffering and the guilty escaping; the best men such as Socrates, Plato, and Pythagoras meeting an ill fate; and unprincipled persons like Alcibiades and Sulla prospering.[2238]

These and other objections to the practice of astrology are the focus of the first of the eight books of the Ma[Pg 532]thesis. Firmicus points out that some of the other criticisms of astrology misinterpret its principles. He acknowledges that some arguments are clever and sound good in theory, but he insists that if those against astrology, instead of claiming that the influence of the stars at any moment is unpredictable, would actually test it out experimentally,[2235] they would soon be convinced of the accuracy of astrologers’ predictions, although he admits that inexperienced astrologers sometimes give incorrect readings. However, he argues that individuals who haven’t tried astrology for themselves aren’t qualified to judge its value.[2236] He asserts that the human mind, which has made so many discoveries in other sciences and has been revealed so much about divinity and religion, is also capable of creating horoscopes, and that making astrological predictions is a relatively straightforward task compared to charting the entire sky and the paths of the stars that the mathematici have already done so effectively.[2237] He doesn't understand why anyone continues to deny the role of fate in human affairs when they can see around them the innocent suffering and the guilty thriving; when the best individuals like Socrates, Plato, and Pythagoras face unfortunate outcomes; and unprincipled people like Alcibiades and Sulla succeed.[2238]

Information to be gained from the third and fourth books.

The remaining seven books of the Mathesis are given over to the art of horoscope casting. The second book consists chiefly of preliminary directions, but the others state what men will be born under various constellations. Of these the last four books are extant only in manuscripts of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, while the first four are found in manuscripts going back to the eleventh century. Moreover, although books five to eight cover more pages than books three and four, they do not supply so many details or so satisfactory a picture of human society in their predictions. These divergences, which are mainly ones of omission, do not invalidate the results which we gain from[Pg 533] an analysis of the third and fourth books, but do raise the question whether the later books, especially the fifth and sixth, are genuine. In them the wording becomes vaguer, little knowledge is shown of conditions at the time that Firmicus wrote, the predictions are more sensational and rhetorical. Only the latter part of the eighth book carries the conviction of reality that books three and four do. These two books are both independent units and through their predictions of the future supply a general picture of human society, presumably that of Firmicus’ own time or not long before. One naturally assumes that those matters to which Firmicus devotes most space and emphasis are the prominent features of his age. Let us see what his picture is of religion, divination, the occult science and magic, natural science and medicine.[2239]

The remaining seven books of the Mathesis focus on the art of horoscope casting. The second book mainly provides initial guidelines, while the others describe what kind of people will be born under different constellations. The last four books only exist in manuscripts from the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, while the first four are available in manuscripts dating back to the eleventh century. Additionally, although books five to eight have more pages than books three and four, they don't offer as many details or provide as clear a view of human society in their predictions. These differences, primarily due to omissions, don't undermine the insights we gain from analyzing the third and fourth books, but they do raise questions about the authenticity of the later books, particularly the fifth and sixth. In those, the language becomes less clear, there's little understanding of the conditions during Firmicus's time, and the predictions are more dramatic and exaggerated. Only the latter part of the eighth book has the same sense of reality as books three and four. These two books stand alone and, through their predictions, give a general overview of human society, likely reflecting Firmicus's own time or the period just before. One can reasonably assume that the topics Firmicus spends the most time and attention on are the significant aspects of his era. Let’s explore his depiction of religion, divination, occult sciences, magic, natural science, and medicine. [2239]

Religion and magic; exorcists.

To religion Firmicus gives less space than to politics. There are no clear references to Christianity, but there are few allusions to any particular cults. Firmicus, however, indicates the existence of many cults, speaking five times of the heads of religions, and characterizing men as “those who regard all religions and gods with a certain trepidation,” “those devoted to certain religions,” “those who cherish the greatest religions,” and so on. Temples,[2240] priests, and divination[2241] are the three features of religion that he mentions most. Magic and religion are closely associated in his predictions, for instance, “temple priests ever famed in magic lore.” Sacred or religious literatures and persons devoted to them are mentioned thrice, while in a fourth passage we[Pg 534] hear of men “investigating the secrets of all religions and of heaven itself.” Other interesting descriptions[2242] are of those who “stay in temples in an unkempt state and always walk abroad thus, and never cut their hair, and who would announce something to men as if said by the gods, such as are wont to be in temples, who are accustomed to predict the future”; and of “men terrible to the gods and who despise all kinds of perjuries. Moreover, they will be terrible to all demons, and at their approach the wicked spirits of demons flee; and they free men who are thus troubled, not by force of words but by their mere appearing; and however violent the demon may be who shakes the body and spirit of man, whether he be aerial or terrestrial or infernal, he flees at the bidding of this sort of man and fears his precepts with a certain veneration. These are they who are called exorcists by the people.” Religious games and contests are mentioned four times: the carving, consecrating, adoring, and clothing of images of the gods, twice each; porters at religious ceremonies, thrice; hymn singers, twice; pipe-players once. Five passages represent persons professionally engaged in religion as growing rich thereby.

To religion, Firmicus gives less attention than to politics. There are no explicit references to Christianity, but there are a few hints at various cults. Firmicus does acknowledge the existence of many cults, mentioning the leaders of religions five times and describing people as “those who view all religions and gods with some trepidation,” “those dedicated to specific religions,” “those who hold the greatest religions dear,” and so on. Temples,[2240] priests, and divination[2241] are the three aspects of religion that he focuses on the most. Magic and religion are closely linked in his predictions, as seen in the phrase, “temple priests ever renowned for their magical knowledge.” Sacred texts and the people devoted to them are referenced three times, while in a fourth instance, we[Pg 534] learn of individuals “exploring the mysteries of all religions and of the heavens.” Other notable descriptions[2242] include those who “remain in temples in a disheveled state and always go out like that, never cutting their hair, and who proclaim something to people as if it were spoken by the gods, similar to those found in temples, who often predict the future”; and of “people who are terrifying to the gods and scorn all kinds of oaths. Moreover, they are fearsome to all demons, and at their approach, the evil spirits of demons flee; they liberate individuals who are troubled, not through words, but simply by their presence; and no matter how forceful the demon may be that shakes the body and spirit of a person, whether he is ethereal, earthly, or hellish, he flees at the command of this kind of person and respects his words with a certain reverence. These are the ones referred to as exorcists by the people.” Religious games and competitions are mentioned four times: the carving, consecration, worship, and dressing of images of the gods, each twice; attendants at religious ceremonies, three times; hymn singers, twice; and flute players, once. Five instances depict individuals who are professionally engaged in religion growing wealthy as a result.

Divination.

We are told that men “predict the future either by the divinity of their own minds or by the admonition of the gods or from oracles or by the venerable discipline of some art.”[2243] Augurs, aruspices, interpreters of dreams, mathematici (astrologers), diviners, and prophets are mentioned. Once Firmicus alludes to false divination but he usually implies that it is a valid art.

We are told that men "predict the future either through the power of their own minds, the guidance of the gods, or through oracles or the respected practice of some skill."[2243] Augurs, aruspices, dream interpreters, mathematici (astrologers), diviners, and prophets are mentioned. While Firmicus sometimes refers to false divination, he mostly suggests that it is a legitimate practice.

Magic as a branch of learning.

From religion and divination we easily pass to the occult arts and sciences, and thence to learning and literature in general, from which occult learning is scarcely distinguished in the Mathesis. Magicians or magic arts are mentioned no less than seven times in varied relations with religion, philosophy, medicine, and astronomy or astrology, showing that magic was not invariably regarded as evil in that age, and[Pg 535] that it was confused and intermingled with the arts and philosophy as well as with the religion of the times.[2244] There are a number of other allusions to secret and illicit arts or writings; these, however, appear to be more unfavorably regarded and probably largely consist of witchcraft and poisoning.

From religion and divination, we easily move to the occult arts and sciences, and then to learning and literature in general, from which occult knowledge is barely distinguished in the Mathesis. Magicians or magic arts are mentioned no less than seven times in various contexts related to religion, philosophy, medicine, and astronomy or astrology, showing that magic was not always seen as evil during that time. It was mixed up with the arts and philosophy as well as the religion of the era. There are several other references to secret and illicit practices or writings; however, these seem to be viewed more negatively and likely consist mostly of witchcraft and poisoning.[Pg 535]

Interest in science.

The evidence of the Mathesis suggests that the civilization of declining Rome was at least not conscious of the intellectual decadence and lack of scientific interest so generally imputed to it. We find three descriptions of intellectual pioneers who learn what no master has ever taught them, and one other instance of men who pretend to do so. We also hear of “those learning much and knowing all, also inventors,” and of those “learning everything,” and “desiring to learn the secrets of all arts.” This curiosity, it is true, seems to be largely devoted to occult science, but it also seems plain that mathematics and medicine were important factors in fourth-century culture as well as the rhetorical studies whose rôle has perhaps been overestimated. Let us compare the statistics. Oratory is mentioned eighteen times, and it is to be noted that literary attainments and learning as well as mere eloquence are regarded as essential in an orator. Men of letters other than orators are found in six passages, and poets in only three. A passage reading “philologists or those skilled in laborious letters” suggests that four instances of the phrase difficiles litterae should perhaps be classed under linguistic rather than occult studies. There are four allusions to grammarians and two to masters of grammar, as against one description of “contentious, con[Pg 536]tradictory dialecticians, professing that they know what no teaching has acquainted them with, mischievous fellows, but unable to do any effective thinking.”[2245] On the other hand, there are fourteen allusions to astronomy and astrology (not including the mathematici already listed under divination), three to geometry, and six to other varieties of mathematics.[2246] Philosophers are mentioned five times; practitioners of medicine, eleven times;[2247] surgeons, once; and botanists, twice. These professions seem to be well paid and are spoken of in complimentary terms.

The evidence from the Mathesis indicates that the civilization of declining Rome was at least not aware of the intellectual decline and lack of scientific interest often attributed to it. We come across three descriptions of intellectual pioneers who learn things that no teacher has ever taught them, alongside another instance of individuals who pretend to do the same. We also hear about “those who learn a lot and know everything, also inventors,” and those “learning everything” while “desiring to uncover the secrets of all arts.” It’s true that this curiosity seems largely focused on occult science, but it also appears clear that mathematics and medicine were significant aspects of fourth-century culture, along with the rhetorical studies, which may have been overemphasized. Let’s look at the statistics. Oratory is mentioned eighteen times, and it’s worth noting that literary skills, knowledge, and mere eloquence are seen as essential for an orator. Writers other than orators are mentioned in six instances, and poets only in three. A line stating “philologists or those skilled in intricate writing” suggests that four mentions of the phrase difficiles litterae should possibly be categorized under linguistic studies rather than occult studies. There are four references to grammarians and two to grammar teachers, compared to one description of “contentious, contradictory dialecticians who claim to know what no teaching has informed them, mischievous individuals, but unable to engage in any meaningful thinking.” [2245] In contrast, there are fourteen references to astronomy and astrology (not including the mathematici already mentioned in relation to divination), three to geometry, and six to other types of mathematics.[2246] Philosophers are mentioned five times; medical practitioners, eleven times; [2247] surgeons, once; and botanists, twice. These professions seem to be well-paying and are discussed in flattering terms.

Diseases in antiquity.

Death, injury, and disease loom up large in Firmicus’ prospectus for the human race, making us realize the benefits of nineteenth-century medicine as well as of modern peace.[2248] No less than 174 passages deal with disease and many of them list two or more ills. Mental disorders are mentioned in 37 places;[2249] physical deformities in six. Other specific ailments mentioned are as follows: blindness and eye troubles, 10; deafness and ear troubles, 5; impediments of speech, 4; baldness, 1; foul odors, 1; dyspeptics, 4; other stomach complaints, 7; dysentery, 2; liver trouble, 1; jaundice, 1; dropsy, 5; spleen disorders, 1; gonorrhoea, 2; other diseases of the urinary bladder and private parts, 6; consumption and lung troubles, 6; hemorrhages, 6; apoplexy, 3; spasms, 5; ills attributed to bad or excessive humors, 12; leprosy and other skin diseases, 6; ague, 1; fever, 1; pains in various parts of the body, 6; internal pains and hidden diseases, 9; diseases of women, 5. There remain a large number of vague allusions to ill-health: 21 to debility, 12 to languor, 3 to invalids, and 49 other passages. Only eight passages allude to the cure of disease. Among the methods suggested are cauterizing, incantations, ordinary remedies,[Pg 537] and seeking divine aid, which last is mentioned most often. The eleven references to medical practitioners should, however, be recalled here. The predictions as to length of life are inadequate to the drawing of conclusions on that point.

Death, injury, and illness are significant concerns in Firmicus' overview of humanity, highlighting the advantages of 19th-century medicine and modern peace. A total of 174 sections address disease, many listing two or more ailments. Mental health issues are mentioned 37 times; physical deformities are noted six times. Other specific illnesses mentioned include: blindness and eye issues, 10; deafness and ear problems, 5; speech impediments, 4; baldness, 1; unpleasant odors, 1; dyspepsia, 4; other stomach issues, 7; dysentery, 2; liver issues, 1; jaundice, 1; dropsy, 5; spleen disorders, 1; gonorrhea, 2; various urinary and genital diseases, 6; consumption and lung issues, 6; hemorrhages, 6; apoplexy, 3; spasms, 5; ailments due to bad or excessive humors, 12; leprosy and other skin conditions, 6; ague, 1; fever, 1; pain in different body parts, 6; internal pain and hidden diseases, 9; women's diseases, 5. There are also many vague mentions of poor health: 21 regarding weakness, 12 about fatigue, 3 about invalids, and 49 other references. Only eight passages mention disease treatment. Suggested methods include cauterization, incantations, common remedies, and seeking divine help, which is noted most frequently. The eleven mentions of medical professionals should also be considered. The predictions regarding lifespan are insufficient for drawing any conclusions on that matter.

Place of Firmicus in the history of astrology.

Firmicus regards his work as a new contribution so far as the Latin-speaking world is concerned.[2250] Not that there had not been previous writing in Latin on the subject. Fronto “had written predictions very accurately,” but “as if he were addressing persons already perfect and skilled in the art, and without first instructing in the elements and practice of the art.”[2251] Firmicus supplies this essential preliminary instruction, which hardly anyone of the Latins had given, and corrects Fronto’s faulty presentation of antiscia, in which he followed Hipparchus, by the correcter method of Navigius (Nigidius?) and Ptolemy.[2252] Firmicus gives no systematic account of his authorities[2253] but occasionally cites them for some particular point and in general professes to follow not only the Greeks but the divine men of Egypt and Babylon, chief among whom seem to be Nechepso and Petosiris and the Hermetic works to or by Aesculapius and Hanubius. An Abram or Abraham is also cited several times. But Firmicus also gives the Sphaera Barbarica, “unknown to all the Romans and to many Greeks,” and which escaped the notice even of Petosiris and Nechepso.[2254] Firmicus himself is named by no ancient author[2255] but was well known in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, as we shall see. In the Mathesis he cites two previous astrological treatises of his[Pg 538] own[2256] and expresses his intention of composing another work in twelve books on the subject of Myriogenesis.[2257] The astrologer Hephaestion of Thebes, who wrote later in the fourth century, seems also to have been a Christian, so that Firmicus was not a solitary case or an anomaly.[2258]

Firmicus sees his work as a fresh contribution to the Latin-speaking world. Not that there hasn’t been any writing in Latin on the topic before. Fronto “had made predictions very accurately,” but “as if he were addressing people who were already perfect and skilled in the art, without first teaching them the basics and practice of the art.” Firmicus provides this crucial introductory instruction, which hardly anyone among the Latins offered, and he corrects Fronto’s flawed explanation of antiscia, in which he followed Hipparchus, using the more accurate methods of Navigius (Nigidius?) and Ptolemy. Firmicus doesn’t give a systematic account of his sources but occasionally mentions them for specific points and generally claims to follow not just the Greeks, but also the wise men of Egypt and Babylon, particularly Nechepso and Petosiris, along with the Hermetic writings attributed to Aesculapius and Hanubius. An Abram or Abraham is also mentioned several times. However, Firmicus also presents the Sphaera Barbarica, “unknown to all the Romans and many Greeks,” which even Petosiris and Nechepso overlooked. No ancient author mentions Firmicus by name, but he was well-known in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, as we will see. In the Mathesis, he references two earlier astrological works of his own and states his intention to write another work in twelve books on Myriogenesis. The astrologer Hephaestion of Thebes, who wrote later in the fourth century, also appears to have been a Christian, indicating that Firmicus wasn’t an isolated case or anomaly.

Libanius accused of magic.

The writings of Libanius, 314-391 A. D., the sophist and rhetorician, throw some light on the relations between magic and learning in the fourth century, show that sorcery and divination were actually practiced, and largely duplicate impressions already received from Apuleius, Apollonius, and Galen, and a Christian like John Chrysostom as well as just now from Firmicus. Libanius tells us how Bemarchius, a rival of his at Athens, who would have poisoned him if he could, instead circulated reports that he (Bemarchius) was the victim of enchantments, and that Libanius had consulted against him an astrologer who was able to control the stars, so that he could confer benefits upon one man and work sorcery against another. This incidentally is another good illustration of how easily astrology passed from mere prediction of the future to operative magic, and of the essential unity of all magic arts. The mob was aroused against Libanius and a praetor who tried to protect him was ousted and another installed at daybreak who was ready to put Libanius to death. Torture was prepared and Libanius was advised to leave Athens, if he did not wish to die there, and took the advice and left.[2259]

The writings of Libanius, 314-391 A.D., the sophist and rhetorician, shed light on the relationship between magic and education in the fourth century, showing that sorcery and divination were actively practiced, and mostly repeat impressions already gathered from Apuleius, Apollonius, Galen, and a Christian like John Chrysostom as well as recently from Firmicus. Libanius tells us how Bemarchius, a rival of his in Athens who would have poisoned him if he had the chance, spread rumors that he (Bemarchius) was the target of enchantments, and that Libanius had consulted an astrologer who could control the stars, allowing him to benefit one person while cursing another. This incidentally illustrates how easily astrology shifted from mere predictions about the future to active magic, highlighting the essential connection between all magical practices. The crowds turned against Libanius, and a praetor who tried to protect him was removed and replaced at dawn by someone prepared to execute Libanius. Torture was planned, and Libanius was advised to flee Athens if he wanted to survive, so he took the advice and left.[2259]

Declamation against a magician.

Among the declamations of Libanius is one against a magician,[2260] supposed to have been delivered under the following circumstances. The city was afflicted with a pesti[Pg 539]lence and finally sent an embassy to the Delphic oracle to learn how to escape the scourge. Apollo replied that they must sacrifice the son of one of the inhabitants who should be determined by lot, and the lot fell to the son of a magician. The father then offered to stay the plague by means of his magic art, if they would agree to spare his son. Against this proposal Libanius argues, urging the people to carry out their original decision and not to anger the Delphic god by violating his oracle, whose reliability is attested by “long time and much experience and common testimony.” He declares that magic is an evil art, and that magicians make no one happy but many wretched, ruining homes, bringing disaster to persons who have never harmed them, and disturbing even the spirits of the dead. He also censures the magician for not having offered to save the city from the plague before, and expresses some scepticism as to his magic power, asking why he did not prevent the fatal lot from falling to his son, or why he does not save him now by causing him to vanish from sight, or vouchsafe some other unmistakable sign of his magic power. It appears that the magician had asked a delay, saying that he must wait for the moon before he could operate against the plague. Libanius points out that meanwhile the citizens are perishing and that fulfillment of Apollo’s oracle will bring instant relief. It would seem, however, that some of the citizens had more faith in the magician than in the god, which supports the oft-made general assertion that the magic arts waxed as pagan religion and its superstitious observances waned. Libanius concludes his oration or imaginary oration with the cutting and heartless witticism that the magician can lose his son more easily than can anyone else, since he will of course still be able to invoke his spirit from the dead.

Among the speeches of Libanius is one against a magician, [2260] that is believed to have been given under the following circumstances. The city was suffering from a plague and eventually sent a delegation to the Delphic oracle to find out how to escape the disaster. Apollo responded that they needed to sacrifice the son of one of the residents, who would be chosen by lot, and the lot fell to the son of a magician. The father then offered to end the plague using his magical skills if they would agree to spare his son. Libanius argued against this proposal, urging the people to stick to their original decision and not to anger the Delphic god by going against his oracle, which has been proven reliable by “long time and much experience and common testimony.” He stated that magic is an evil art, and that magicians do not bring happiness to anyone but create misery for many, destroying families, causing disasters for those who have never wronged them, and even troubling the spirits of the dead. He also criticized the magician for not trying to save the city from the plague earlier, expressing doubts about his magical abilities, questioning why he didn’t prevent the deadly lot from falling on his son or why he doesn't simply make him disappear now or provide some other clear sign of his powers. It appears that the magician requested a delay, saying he had to wait for the moon before he could deal with the plague. Libanius pointed out that in the meantime, the citizens were dying, and that fulfilling Apollo’s oracle would bring immediate relief. It seems, however, that some citizens had more faith in the magician than in the god, which supports the frequently made observation that magical practices grew as pagan religion and its superstitions declined. Libanius concluded his speech or imagined speech with the cruel and heartless joke that the magician can lose his son more easily than anyone else, since he will still be able to summon his spirit from the dead.

Faith of Libanius in divination.

Libanius’ own faith in divination is not only suggested by the attitude toward the Delphic oracle in the foregoing declamation but is attested by two passages in his autobiography. His great-great-grandfather had so excelled in[Pg 540] mantike that he foresaw that his children would die by steel, although they would be handsome and great and good speakers. It also was rumored that a celebrated sophist had predicted many things concerning Libanius himself, which Libanius assures us had since come to pass.[2261]

Libanius’ faith in divination is not only shown by his view towards the Delphic oracle in the previous speech but is also confirmed by two passages in his autobiography. His great-great-grandfather was so skilled in mantike that he predicted that his children would die by steel, even though they would be handsome, distinguished, and eloquent. It was also said that a famous sophist had predicted many things about Libanius himself, which Libanius assures us have since happened.[Pg 540] [2261]

Magic and astrology in the pseudo-Quintilian declamations.

Of the same type as Libanius’ declamation against the magician is the fourth pseudo-Quintilian declamation in Latin concerning an astrologer’s prediction, which we shall later in the twelfth century find Bernard Silvester enlarging upon in his poem entitled Mathematicus. In another of the pseudo-Quintilian declamations the word experimentum is used of a magician’s feat. “O harsh and cruel magician, O manufacturer of our tears, I would that you had not given so great an experiment! We are angry at you, yet we must cajole you. While you imprison the ghost, we know that you alone can evoke it.”[2262]

Of the same kind as Libanius’ speech against the magician is the fourth pseudo-Quintilian speech in Latin about an astrologer’s prediction, which we will later see Bernard Silvester expand upon in his poem titled Mathematicus in the twelfth century. In another of the pseudo-Quintilian speeches, the term experimentum is used to describe a magician’s act. “O harsh and cruel magician, O creator of our tears, I wish you had not created such a great experiment! We are angry with you, yet we must flatter you. While you hold the ghost captive, we know that only you can summon it.”[2262]

Fusion of Christianity and paganism in Synesius of Cyrene.

That more than fifty years after Firmicus adherence to Christianity might be combined with trust in divination of the future, occult science, and magical invocation of spirits, and with various other pagan and Neo-Platonic beliefs, is well illustrated by the case of Synesius of Cyrene,[2263] a fellow-African and contemporary of Augustine. Synesius, however, traced his descent from the Heracleidae, wrote in Greek, and displayed a Hellenism unusual for his time,[2264] and,[Pg 541] while he did not find the Athens of his day entirely to his taste, continued the philosophical and rhetorical traditions of the sophists of the Roman Empire, like Libanius of whom we have just spoken. His extant letters show that Hypatia was numbered among his friends and had been his teacher at the Neo-Platonic and mathematical school of Alexandria. Hypatia was murdered by the fanatical Christian mob of that city in 415. But very different was the attitude of the people of Ptolemais to the like-minded Synesius. A few years before they had elected him bishop![2265] Moreover, he distinctly stipulated[2266] that he should not renounce his wife and family nor his philosophical opinions, which seem to have involved a sceptical attitude towards miracles and the resurrection, and a belief in the eternity of the world and pre-existence of the soul rather than in creation,[2267] in addition to the views which we are about to set forth. It has been observed also that his doctrine of the Trinity is more Neo-Platonic than Christian.[2268]

That more than fifty years after Firmicus embraced Christianity, it was possible to mix trust in divination, occult science, magical invocation of spirits, and various other pagan and Neo-Platonic beliefs. This is well illustrated by the case of Synesius of Cyrene, a fellow African and contemporary of Augustine. Synesius, however, claimed descent from the Heracleidae, wrote in Greek, and showed an unusual level of Hellenism for his time, and while he found the Athens of his day somewhat lacking, he continued the philosophical and rhetorical traditions of the Roman Empire's sophists, like Libanius, whom we just mentioned. His surviving letters reveal that Hypatia was among his friends and had been his teacher at the Neo-Platonic and mathematical school in Alexandria. Hypatia was murdered by the fanatical Christian mob in that city in 415. However, the attitude of the people of Ptolemais towards the like-minded Synesius was very different—they elected him bishop a few years prior! Moreover, he clearly stipulated that he would not renounce his wife and family or his philosophical views, which seemed to include a skeptical stance toward miracles and the resurrection, as well as a belief in the eternity of the world and the pre-existence of the soul rather than in creation, in addition to the ideas we are about to discuss. It has also been noted that his doctrine of the Trinity is more Neo-Platonic than Christian.

Career of Synesius.

The dates of Synesius’ birth and death are uncertain. He seems to have been born about 370. His last dateable letter appears to be written in 412, but some give the date of his death as late as 430. Others contend that he did not live to hear of Hypatia’s murder. Before he was made bishop he had been to Constantinople on a mission to the emperor to secure alleviation of the oppressive taxation in Cyrene. He had lived in Athens and Alexandria as a student, and in Cyrene on his country estate. Here, if in his fondness for books and philosophy he constituted a survival of the past, in his fondness for the chase and dogs and horses and his repulsion of an invasion of Libyan marauders he was the forerunner of many a medieval feudal[Pg 542] bishop. And after he became bishop, he launched an excommunication against the tyrannical prefect Andronicus.

The exact dates of Synesius' birth and death are unclear. He was likely born around 370. His last known letter seems to be from 412, but some sources suggest he may have died as late as 430. Others argue that he did not live long enough to learn about Hypatia's murder. Before becoming a bishop, he traveled to Constantinople on a mission to the emperor to address the heavy taxation in Cyrene. He studied in Athens and Alexandria and lived on his estate in Cyrene. There, while his love for books and philosophy showed he was a remnant of the past, his passion for hunting, dogs, and horses, along with his resistance to Libyan raiders, made him a precursor to many medieval feudal bishops. After he became bishop, he initiated an excommunication against the oppressive prefect Andronicus. [Pg 542]

His interest in science.

But our particular interest is less in his political and more purely literary activities than in his taste for mathematics and science. He knew some medicine and was well acquainted with geometry and astronomy. He believed himself to be the inventor of an astrolabe and of a hydroscope.

But our specific interest is more in his literary activities than in his political ones, particularly his interest in mathematics and science. He had some knowledge of medicine and was well-versed in geometry and astronomy. He considered himself the inventor of an astrolabe and a hydroscope.

Belief in occult sympathies between natural objects.

With this interest in natural and mathematical science went an interest in occult science and divination. His belief that the universe was a unit and all its parts closely correlated not only led him to maintain, like Seneca, that whatever had a cause was a sign of some future event, or to hold with Plotinus that in any and every object the sage might discern the future of every other, and that the birds themselves, if endowed with sufficient intelligence, would be able to predict the future by observing the movements of human bipeds.[2269] It led him also to the conclusion that the various parts of the universe were more than passive mirrors in which one might see the future of the other parts; that they further exerted, by virtue of the magic sympathy which united all parts of the universe, a potent active influence over other objects and occurrences. The wise man might not only predict the future; he might, to a great extent, control it. “For it must be, I think, that of this whole, so joined in sympathy and in agreement, the parts are closely connected as if members of a single body. And does not this explain the spells of the magi? For things, besides being signs of each other, have magic power over each other. The wise man, then, is he who knows the relationships of the parts of the universe. For he draws one object under his control by means of another object, holding what is at hand as a pledge for what is far away, and working through sounds and material substances and forms.”[2270] Synesius explained that plants[Pg 543] and stones are related by bonds of occult sympathy to the gods who are within the universe and who form a part of it, that plants and stones have magic power over these gods, and that one may by means of such material substances attract those deities.[2271] He evidently believed that it was quite legitimate to control the processes of nature by invoking demons.

With this interest in natural and mathematical science came an interest in the occult and divination. His belief that the universe was a whole and that all its parts were interconnected not only led him to agree with Seneca that anything having a cause was a sign of some future event, but also to support Plotinus's idea that in every object, the wise person could see the future of every other, and that birds themselves, if they had enough intelligence, could predict the future by observing the actions of humans.[2269] It also led him to conclude that the various parts of the universe were more than just passive mirrors reflecting each other's futures; they actively influenced one another due to the magical sympathy that connected all parts of the universe. The wise person could not only predict the future but could also largely control it. “It must be, I think, that in this whole, so united in sympathy and agreement, the parts are closely linked as if they were members of a single body. Doesn't this explain the spells of the magicians? For things, besides being signs of each other, have magical power over one another. The wise person is someone who understands the relationships between the parts of the universe. They bring one object under their control by using another, treating what is present as a guarantee for what is distant, and working through sounds, materials, and forms.”[2270] Synesius noted that plants[Pg 543] and stones are connected by bonds of occult sympathy to the gods within the universe, showing that plants and stones have magical influence over these gods, and that one can use such materials to attract those deities.[2271] He clearly believed it was entirely valid to control nature's processes by calling upon demons.

Synesius on divination and astrology.

The devotion of Synesius to divination has been already implied. He regarded it as among the noblest of human pursuits.[2272] Dreams, on which he wrote a treatise, he viewed as significant and very useful events. They aided him, he wrote, in his every-day life, and had upon one occasion saved him from magic devices against his life.[2273] Warned by a dream that he would have a son, he wrote a treatise for the child before it was born.[2274] Of course, he had faith in astrology. The stars were well-nigh ever present in his thought. In his Praise of Baldness he characterized comets as fatal omens, as harbingers of the worst public disasters.[2275] In On Providence he explained the supposed fact that history repeats itself by the periodical return to their former positions of the stars which govern our life.[2276] In On the Gift of an Astrolabe he declared that “astronomy” besides being itself a noble science, prepared men for the diviner mysteries of theology.[2277]

Synesius's commitment to divination has already been suggested. He considered it one of the highest human endeavors.[2272] He viewed dreams, which he wrote a treatise about, as important and very beneficial occurrences. They helped him, he claimed, in his daily life, and on one occasion, they saved him from magical threats to his life.[2273] A dream warned him that he would have a son, so he wrote a treatise for the child before it was even born.[2274] Naturally, he believed in astrology. The stars were almost always on his mind. In his Praise of Baldness, he described comets as terrible signs, foretelling major public calamities.[2275] In On Providence, he explained the idea that history repeats itself by the cyclical return of the stars that influence our lives to their previous positions.[2276] In On the Gift of an Astrolabe, he stated that “astronomy,” besides being a noble science in its own right, prepares individuals for the deeper mysteries of theology.[2277]

Synesius as an alchemist.

Finally, he held the view common among students of magic that knowledge should be esoteric; that its mysteries and marvels should be confined to the few fitted to receive them and that they should be expressed in language incomprehensible to the vulgar crowd.[2278] It is perhaps on this[Pg 544] account that one of the oldest extant treatises of Greek alchemy is ascribed to him. Berthelot, however, accepted it as his, stating that “there is nothing surprising in Synesius’ having really written on alchemy.”[2279]

Finally, he believed, like many students of magic, that knowledge should be kept secret; that its mysteries and wonders should only be shared with a select few who are ready to understand them, and that it should be communicated in language that is beyond the comprehension of the common people. [2278] It's likely for this reason that one of the oldest surviving texts on Greek alchemy is attributed to him. Berthelot, however, accepted it as genuinely his, stating that “there is nothing surprising in Synesius’ having really written on alchemy.” [2279]

Macrobius on number, dreams, and stars.

Synesius influenced the Byzantine period but probably not the western medieval world. But the Commentary of Macrobius on The Dream of Scipio by Cicero is one of the treatises most frequently encountered in early medieval Latin manuscripts. In the twelfth century Abelard made frequent reference to Macrobius and called him “no mean philosopher”; in the thirteenth Aquinas cited him as an authority for the doctrines of Neo-Platonism.[2280] Macrobius himself affirmed that Vergil contained practically all necessary knowledge[2281] and that Cicero’s Dream of Scipio was a work second to none and contained the entire substance of philosophy.[2282] Macrobius believed that numbers possess occult power. He dilated at considerable length upon every number from one to eight, emphasizing the perfection and far-reaching significance of each. He held the Pythagorean doctrine that the world-soul consists of number, that number rules the harmony of the celestial bodies, and that from the music of the spheres we derive the numerical values proper to musical consonance.[2283] His opinion was that dreams and other striking occurrences will reveal an occult meaning to the careful investigator.[2284] As for astrology, he regarded the stars as signs but not causes of future events, just as birds by their flight or song reveal matters of which they themselves are ignorant.[2285] So the sun and other planets, though in a way divine, are but material bodies, and it is not from them but from the world-soul (pure mind), whence they too come, that the human spirit takes its origin.[2286] In[Pg 545] his sole other extant work, the Saturnalia, Macrobius displays some belief in occult virtues in natural objects, as when Disaurius the physician answers such questions as why a copper knife stuck in game prevents decay.[2287]

Synesius had an impact on the Byzantine period but likely not on the Western medieval world. However, Macrobius's Commentary on The Dream of Scipio by Cicero is one of the most commonly found texts in early medieval Latin manuscripts. In the twelfth century, Abelard often referenced Macrobius and called him “no mean philosopher”; in the thirteenth century, Aquinas cited him as an authority on the doctrines of Neo-Platonism.[2280] Macrobius himself asserted that Vergil contained almost all necessary knowledge[2281] and that Cicero’s Dream of Scipio was an unmatched work that encompassed the entire essence of philosophy.[2282] Macrobius believed that numbers hold hidden power. He extensively discussed every number from one to eight, highlighting the perfection and far-reaching significance of each. He adhered to the Pythagorean belief that the world-soul consists of numbers, that numbers govern the harmony of the celestial bodies, and that from the music of the spheres comes the numerical values essential to musical harmony.[2283] He thought that dreams and other remarkable occurrences would reveal hidden meanings to the attentive investigator.[2284] Regarding astrology, he viewed the stars as signs rather than causes of future events, similar to how birds, through their flight or song, reveal matters that they themselves do not understand.[2285] Thus, the sun and other planets, while in a sense divine, are merely material bodies, and it is not from them but from the world-soul (pure mind), from which they also originate, that the human spirit derives its beginning.[2286] In[Pg 545] his only other surviving work, the Saturnalia, Macrobius shows some belief in the hidden virtues of natural objects, as when Disaurius the physician responds to questions like why a copper knife stuck in game prevents decay.[2287]

Martianus Capella.

The medieval vogue of the fifth century work of Martianus Capella, The Nuptials of Philology and Mercury, and the Seven Liberal Arts,[2288] has been too frequently demonstrated to require further emphasis here, although it is still a puzzle just why a monastic Christian world should have selected for a text book in the liberal arts a work which contained so much pagan mythology, to say nothing of a marriage ceremony. Nor need we repeat its fulsome allegorical plot and meager learned content. Cassiodorus tells us that the author was a native of Madaura, the birthplace of Apuleius, in North Africa, and he appears to be a Neo-Platonist who has much to say of the sky, stars, and old pagan gods, often, however, by way of brief and vague poetical allusion.

The medieval popularity of the fifth-century work by Martianus Capella, The Nuptials of Philology and Mercury, and the Seven Liberal Arts,[2288] has been shown too many times to need further discussion here, even though it's still a mystery why a monastic Christian society would choose a textbook for the liberal arts that includes so much pagan mythology, not to mention a marriage ceremony. There’s no need to go over its over-the-top allegorical plot and limited scholarly content again. Cassiodorus informs us that the author was from Madaura, the birthplace of Apuleius, in North Africa, and he seems to be a Neo-Platonist who often references the sky, stars, and ancient pagan gods, usually through brief and vague poetic allusions.

Absence of astrology.

Of astrology there is very little trace in Capella’s work. In a discussion of perfect numbers in the second book the number seven evokes allusion to the fatal courses of the stars and their influence upon the formation of the child in the womb; but the eighth book, which is devoted to the theme of astronomy as one of the liberal arts, is limited to a purely astronomical description of the heavens.

Of astrology, there’s hardly any mention in Capella’s work. In a discussion about perfect numbers in the second book, the number seven brings up the idea of the stars’ fateful paths and their effect on a child’s development in the womb; however, the eighth book, which focuses on astronomy as one of the liberal arts, only offers a straightforward astronomical description of the skies.

Orders of spirits.

The chief thing for us to note in the work is the account of the various orders of spiritual beings and their respective location in reference to the heavenly bodies.[2289] Juno leads the virgin Philology to the aerial citadels and there instructs her in the multiplicity of diverse powers. From highest ether to the solar circle are beings of a fiery and flaming substance. These are the celestial gods who prepare the secrets of occult causes. They are pure and impassive and immortal and have little or no direct relation with mankind. Be[Pg 546]tween sun and moon come spirits who have especial charge of soothsaying, dreams, prodigies, omens, and divination from entrails and auguries. They often utter warning voices or admonish those who consult their oracles by the course of the stars or the hurling of thunderbolts. To this class belong the Genii associated with individual mortals and angels “who announce secret thoughts to the superior power.” All these the Greeks call demons. Their splendor is less lucid than that of the celestials, but their bodies are not sufficiently corporeal to enable men to see them. Lares and purer human souls after death also come under this category. Between moon and earth the spirits subdivide into three classes. In the upper atmosphere are demi-gods. “These have celestial souls and holy minds and are begotten in human form to the profit of the whole world.” Such were Hercules, Ammon, Dionysus, Osiris, Isis, Triptolemus, and Asclepius. Others of this class become sibyls and seers. From mid-air to the mountain-tops are found heroes and Manes. Finally the earth itself is inhabited by a long-lived race of dwellers in woods and groves, in fountains and lakes and streams, called Pans, Fauns, satyrs, Silvani, nymphs, and by other names. They finally die as men do, but possess great power of foresight and of inflicting injury.[2290] It is evident that Capella’s spiritual world is one well fitted for astrology, divination, and magic.

The main thing to notice in this work is the description of the different types of spiritual beings and where they exist in relation to the heavenly bodies. Juno guides the virgin Philology to the skyward towers and teaches her about the many diverse powers. From the highest ether to the solar circle are beings made of fire and flame. These are the celestial gods who hold the secrets of hidden causes. They are pure, unchanging, and immortal and have little to no direct connection with humanity. Between the sun and moon are spirits that are specifically responsible for prophecy, dreams, signs, omens, and divination through entrails and auguries. They often send warning messages or guide those who consult their oracles through the movement of stars or the striking of thunderbolts. This group includes the Genii connected with individual humans and angels "who reveal hidden thoughts to the higher power." The Greeks refer to all of these as demons. Their brightness is less intense than that of the celestial beings, but their forms are not solid enough for people to see them. Lares and purer human souls after death also fall into this category. Between the moon and earth, spirits are divided into three classes. In the upper atmosphere are demi-gods. "These have celestial souls and holy minds and are born in human form for the benefit of the entire world." Examples include Hercules, Ammon, Dionysus, Osiris, Isis, Triptolemus, and Asclepius. Others in this group become sibyls and seers. From mid-air to the mountaintops are heroes and Manes. Finally, the earth is home to a long-lived group of beings who live in forests, groves, fountains, lakes, and streams, known as Pans, Fauns, satyrs, Silvani, nymphs, and other names. They eventually die like humans do but possess great foresight and the ability to cause harm. It’s clear that Capella’s spiritual world is well-suited for astrology, divination, and magic.

The Celestial Hierarchy of Dionysius the Areopagite.

Very different are the orders of spirits described in The Celestial Hierarchy, supposed to be the work of Dionysius the Areopagite, where are set forth nine orders of spirits in three groups of three each: Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones; Dominions, Virtues, and Powers; Princes, Archangels, and Angels. The threefold division reminds us of Capella, but there the resemblance ceases. The pseudo-Dionysius takes all his suggestions from the Old and New Testaments, rather than from classical mythology and such previous classifications of spirits as that of Apuleius. And[Pg 547] while his starting from such verses of the Bible as “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, descending from the Father of lights,” and “Jesus Christ the true light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world,” and his using such phrases as “archifotic Father” and “thearchic ray,” lead us to expect some Gnostic-like scheme of association of the spirits with the various heavens and celestial bodies, in fact he throughout speaks of the spirits solely as celestial and deiform and hypercosmic minds, and unspeakable and sacred enigmas of whose invisibility, transcendence, infinity, and incomprehensibility any description can be merely symbolic and figurative. Their functions seem to consist chiefly in contemplation of the deity or their superior orders and illumination of man and their inferior orders. They are not specifically associated by Dionysius with the celestial bodies, much less with any terrestrial objects, and so his account lays no foundation for magic and astrology, unless as its transcendent mysticism might pique some curious person to attempt some very immaterial variety of theurgy and sublimated theosophy. Although the Pseudo-Dionysius wrote in Greek,[2291] his work was made available for the Latin middle ages by the translation of John the Scot in the ninth century.[2292]

Very different are the orders of spirits described in The Celestial Hierarchy, believed to be the work of Dionysius the Areopagite, which outlines nine orders of spirits grouped into three sets of three: Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones; Dominions, Virtues, and Powers; Princes, Archangels, and Angels. The threefold division reminds us of Capella, but that’s where the similarity ends. The pseudo-Dionysius draws all his ideas from the Old and New Testaments, rather than from classical mythology or earlier classifications of spirits like those of Apuleius. And [Pg 547] while he starts with Bible verses such as “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, descending from the Father of lights,” and “Jesus Christ the true light that enlightens every person coming into the world,” and uses terms like “archifotic Father” and “thearchic ray,” we might expect a Gnostic-like association of spirits with various heavens and celestial bodies. However, he consistently refers to the spirits solely as celestial and divine and hypercosmic minds, mysterious and sacred enigmas whose invisibility, transcendence, infinity, and incomprehensibility make any description merely symbolic and figurative. Their roles seem mainly focused on contemplating the deity or their higher orders and enlightening humanity and their lower orders. Dionysius does not specifically link them with celestial bodies, let alone terrestrial objects, so his account provides no basis for magic or astrology unless its transcendent mysticism might tempt someone to explore a very abstract version of theurgy and elevated theosophy. Although the Pseudo-Dionysius wrote in Greek, [2291] his work was made available to the Latin Middle Ages through John the Scot's translation in the ninth century. [2292]


[Pg 549]

[Pg 549]

BOOK III. THE EARLY MIDDLE AGES

Chapter 24. The Story of Nectanebus.
Chapter 25. Post-Classical Medicine.
Chapter 26. Pseudo-Literature in Natural Science of the Early Middle Ages.
Chapter 27. Other Early Medieval Learning.
Chapter 28. Arabic Occult Science of the Ninth Century.
Chapter 29. Latin Astrology and Divination, Especially in the Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Centuries.
Chapter 30. Gerbert and the Introduction of Arabic Astrology.
Chapter 31. Anglo-Saxon, Salernitan, and other Latin Medicine in Manuscripts from the Ninth to the Twelfth Century.
Chapter 32. Constantinus Africanus.
Chapter 33. Treatises on the Arts before the Introduction of Arabic Alchemy.
Chapter 34. Marbod.

[Pg 551]

[Pg 551]

CHAPTER XXIV
THE STORY OF NECTANEBUS
OR
THE ALEXANDER LEGEND IN THE EARLY MIDDLE AGES[2293]

The Pseudo-Callisthenes—Its unhistoric character—Julius Valerius—Oriental versions—Medieval epitomes of Julius Valerius—Letters of Alexander—Leo’s Historia de praeliis—Medieval metamorphosis of ancient tradition—Survival of magical and scientific features—Who was Nectanebus?—A scientific key-note—Magic of Nectanebus—Nectanebus as an astrologer—A magic dream—Lucian on Olympias and the serpent—More dream-sending; magic transformation—An omen interpreted—The birth of Alexander—The death of Nectanebus—The Amazons and Gymnosophists—The Letter to Aristotle.

The Pseudo-Callisthenes—Its non-historical nature—Julius Valerius—Eastern versions—Medieval summaries of Julius Valerius—Letters of Alexander—Leo’s Historia de praeliis—Medieval transformation of ancient tradition—Persistence of magical and scientific elements—Who was Nectanebus?—A scientific note—The magic of Nectanebus—Nectanebus as an astrologer—A magical dream—Lucian on Olympias and the serpent—More dream-sending; magical transformation—An omen explained—The birth of Alexander—The death of Nectanebus—The Amazons and Gymnosophists—The Letter to Aristotle.

The Pseudo-Callisthenes.

The oldest version of the legend or romance of Alexander is naturally believed to have been written in the Greek language but is thought to have been produced in Egypt at Alexandria. But the Greek manuscripts of the story are[Pg 552] all of the medieval or Renaissance period; indeed, none of them antedates the eleventh or twelfth century. Furthermore, they differ very considerably in content and arrangement, so that the problem of distinguishing or recovering the original text of the Pseudo-Callisthenes, as the work is commonly called, and of dating it, is one with which various scholars have grappled. It has been held that the original Greek text which lies back of the later versions was written not later than 200 A. D. But Basil, writing in Greek in the fourth century and well-versed in Greek culture, is apparently unfamiliar with the story of Nectanebus, since he says, “Without doubt there has never been a king who has taken measures to have his son born under the star of royalty.”[2294] Fortunately we are less interested in the original version than in the medieval development of the tradition. It should, however, perhaps be premised that certain features of the Alexander legend may be detected in embryo in Plutarch’s Life of him.

The oldest version of the legend or story of Alexander is generally believed to have been written in Greek and likely produced in Alexandria, Egypt. However, the Greek manuscripts of this story are all from the medieval or Renaissance period; none of them are older than the eleventh or twelfth century. Additionally, they vary significantly in content and structure, making it a challenge for scholars to identify or reconstruct the original text of the Pseudo-Callisthenes, as it's commonly known, and to date it accurately. It's thought that the original Greek text behind the later versions was written no later than 200 A.D. However, Basil, writing in Greek in the fourth century and knowledgeable about Greek culture, seems to be unaware of the story of Nectanebus, as he states, “Without a doubt, there has never been a king who has taken steps to ensure his son is born under the royal star.” Fortunately, we are more focused on the medieval development of the tradition than on the original version. However, it might be important to note that certain elements of the Alexander legend can be seen in their early forms in Plutarch’s Life of him.

[Pg 553]

[Pg 553]

The true Callisthenes was a historian who accompanied Alexander upon his Asiatic campaigns but then offended the conqueror by opposing his adoption of oriental dress, absolutism, and deification, and was therefore cast into prison on a charge of treason, and there died in 328 B. C. either from ill treatment or disease.[2295] Since Callisthenes was also a relative and pupil of Aristotle, his name was an excellent one upon which to father the romance. However, the oldest Latin version of it professes to employ a Greek text by one Aesopus, possibly because Aesop’s fables accompany the story of Alexander in some of the manuscripts. Yet other versions cite an Onesicritus,[2296] and the Pseudo-Callisthenes has also been attributed to Antisthenes, Aristotle, and Arrian.

The real Callisthenes was a historian who traveled with Alexander on his campaigns in Asia but angered the conqueror by opposing his choice of eastern clothing, absolute rule, and being treated as a god. As a result, he was imprisoned on charges of treason and died there in 328 B.C., possibly due to mistreatment or illness.[2295] Since Callisthenes was also related to and a student of Aristotle, his name was a great one to use for the story. However, the earliest Latin version claims to use a Greek text by someone named Aesopus, likely because Aesop’s fables are sometimes included with the story of Alexander in some manuscripts. Other versions mention an Onesicritus,[2296] and the Pseudo-Callisthenes has also been associated with Antisthenes, Aristotle, and Arrian.

Its unhistoric character.

Perhaps no better single illustration of the totally unhistorical and romantic character of the Pseudo-Callisthenes can be given than the perversion of Alexander’s line of march in most of the Greek and all of the Latin versions. He is represented as first proceeding to Italy and receiving royal honors at Rome; then he goes to Carthage and reaches the shrine of Ammon by traversing Libya; next he passes through Egypt into Syria and destroys Tyre, after which he crosses Arabia and has his first battle with Darius. Presently he is found back in Greece sacking Thebes and dealing with Corinth, Athens, and Sparta. Then his Asiatic conquests are resumed.

Perhaps no better example of the completely unhistorical and romantic nature of the Pseudo-Callisthenes can be given than the distortion of Alexander’s route in most of the Greek and all of the Latin versions. He is shown as first going to Italy and receiving royal honors in Rome; then he travels to Carthage and reaches the shrine of Ammon by crossing Libya; next, he moves through Egypt into Syria and destroys Tyre, after which he crosses Arabia and has his first battle with Darius. Soon after, he is found back in Greece, looting Thebes and dealing with Corinth, Athens, and Sparta. Then he resumes his conquests in Asia.

Julius Valerius.

The oldest Latin version of the Alexander romance is the Res gestae Alexandri Macedonis of Julius Valerius. Who he was and when he lived are matters still veiled in obscurity; but it is customary to place him in the early fourth century on the basis of Zacher’s contention that the Res gestae is copied in certain portions of the Itinerarium Alexandri, which was written during the years 340-345 A. D. This[Pg 554] dating would also serve to explain why Basil, writing in Greek before 379, had never heard of a king who had taken steps to have his son born under the star of royalty, while Augustine, writing in Latin between 413 and 426, mentions the story of a sage who selected a certain hour for intercourse with his wife in order that he might beget a marvelous son. This would also suggest that the Latin version was older than the Greek, as in fact the extant manuscripts of it are. The oldest manuscript of Valerius, however, is a badly damaged palimpsest of the seventh century at Turin. Other manuscripts are one at Milan of the tenth century and another at Paris dating about 1200.[2297] The text of Valerius differs considerably from the Greek Pseudo-Callisthenes and was to undergo further alteration in later medieval Latin versions.

The oldest Latin version of the Alexander romance is the Res gestae Alexandri Macedonis by Julius Valerius. Who he was and when he lived are still unclear; however, it's common to place him in the early fourth century based on Zacher’s argument that the Res gestae is referenced in parts of the Itinerarium Alexandri, which was written between 340-345 A.D. This dating also helps explain why Basil, who wrote in Greek before 379, never mentioned a king who wanted his son to be born under a royal star, while Augustine, writing in Latin between 413 and 426, tells the story of a wise man who chose a specific time for intimacy with his wife to conceive a remarkable son. This implies that the Latin version was older than the Greek, as the remaining manuscripts support. However, the oldest manuscript of Valerius is a severely damaged palimpsest from the seventh century in Turin. Other manuscripts include one from Milan dating to the tenth century and another from Paris around 1200. [2297] The text of Valerius varies significantly from the Greek Pseudo-Callisthenes and would later be altered in medieval Latin versions.

Oriental versions.

Before speaking of these we may mention other oriental versions of the story. An Armenian text dates from the fifth century. A Syriac version, which dates from the seventh or eighth century and was “much read by the Nestorians,” was itself derived from an earlier Persian rendering. It seems to make use of both the Greek Pseudo-Callisthenes and Julius Valerius since it includes incidents from either which are not found in the other. And it omits a considerable section of the Greek version besides adding episodes which are not found in it, although contained in Julius Valerius. We hear further of Arabic and Hebrew versions of the romance, while manuscripts of recent date supply an Ethiopic version of the Pseudo-Callisthenes of unknown authorship and date, together with other Ethiopic histories and romances of Alexander. These are based partly upon Arabic and Jewish works but take great liberties with their sources in making alterations to suit a Christian audience, omitting for example, as Budge points out, Alexander’s victory[Pg 555] in the chariot race, and transforming Philip and Alexander into Christian martyrs, or the Greek gods into patriarchs and prophets like Enoch and Elijah. Even the Greek version did not remain unaltered in the Byzantine period when two recensions in prose and two more in verse are distinguished. Indeed, none of the Greek manuscripts of the work antedates the eleventh or twelfth century, they differ greatly, and some of them ascribe the romance to Alexander himself.

Before discussing those, we can mention other Eastern versions of the story. An Armenian text is from the fifth century. A Syriac version, which comes from the seventh or eighth century and was “popular among the Nestorians,” was derived from an earlier Persian translation. It seems to draw from both the Greek Pseudo-Callisthenes and Julius Valerius, as it includes events from either that aren't found in the other. It also leaves out a significant part of the Greek version while adding episodes that aren't included in it but are found in Julius Valerius. We also hear about Arabic and Hebrew versions of the romance, while more recent manuscripts provide an Ethiopic version of the Pseudo-Callisthenes with unknown authorship and date, along with other Ethiopic histories and romances about Alexander. These are partly based on Arabic and Jewish works but make significant changes to fit a Christian audience, omitting, for example, as Budge points out, Alexander’s victory in the chariot race, and turning Philip and Alexander into Christian martyrs, or the Greek gods into patriarchs and prophets like Enoch and Elijah. Even the Greek version wasn’t unchanged during the Byzantine period when two prose versions and two more in verse are recognized. In fact, none of the Greek manuscripts of the work predates the eleventh or twelfth century; they vary significantly, and some attribute the romance to Alexander himself.

Medieval epitomes of Julius Valerius.

Such variations in the eastern versions of the story of Alexander illustrate how the middle ages made the classical heritage their own and prepare us for similar alterations in the Latin account current in western Europe. The work of Julius Valerius, though written in the rhetorical style characteristic of the declining Roman Empire and composed almost on the verge of the middle ages, was to undergo further alterations to adapt it more closely to medieval taste and use. By the ninth century, if not earlier, two epitomes of it had been made, and, beginning with that century, manuscripts of the shorter of these epitomes become far more numerous than those of the original Valerius.[2298]

Such variations in the eastern versions of the story of Alexander show how the Middle Ages adapted the classical heritage to their own needs and set the stage for similar changes in the Latin account popular in Western Europe. The work of Julius Valerius, although written in the rhetorical style typical of the declining Roman Empire and created just before the Middle Ages, was further modified to better fit medieval tastes and uses. By the ninth century, if not earlier, two summaries of it had been made, and starting in that century, manuscripts of the shorter of these summaries became much more common than those of the original Valerius.[2298]

Letters of Alexander.

Two sections of the Alexander legend were omitted in the Epitome, not because medieval men had lost interest in them but because they had become so fond of them as to enlarge upon them and issue them as distinct works. They often, however, accompany the Epitome in the manuscripts. One of these was the Letter of Alexander to Aristotle on the Marvels of India.[2299] It is longer than the corresponding[Pg 556] chapter of Valerius[2300] where a letter of Alexander to Aristotle is quoted and also differs from any known Greek text. The fact that reference is made to it in the longer Epitome leads to the conclusion that the Letter is older. This would also seem to be the case with the other work, a short series of letters interchanged between Alexander and Dindimus, the king of the Brahmans, since the Epitome omits the two chapters of Valerius which tell of Alexander’s interview with the Brahmans. It is believed that Alcuin, who died in 804, in one of his letters to Charlemagne speaks of sending these epistles exchanged between Alexander and Dindimus along with the equally apocryphal correspondence of the apostle Paul and the philosopher Seneca. No such letters are found in the Pseudo-Callisthenes, for the ten chapters on the Brahmans found in one Greek codex are interpolated from the treatise of Palladius, likewise in the form of a correspondence.[2301] Julius Valerius does not even mention Dindimus, but a third epistolary discussion of the Brahmans exists in Latin, De moribus Brachmannorum, ascribed to St. Ambrose.[2302]

Two parts of the Alexander legend were left out of the Epitome, not because people in the Middle Ages lost interest in them, but because they became so popular that they were expanded and published as separate works. They often accompany the Epitome in manuscripts, though. One of these is the Letter of Alexander to Aristotle about the Wonders of India.[2299] It is longer than the corresponding[Pg 556] chapter in Valerius[2300], which quotes a letter from Alexander to Aristotle, and it also differs from any known Greek text. The fact that it’s mentioned in the longer Epitome suggests that the Letter is older. This seems to apply to another work as well, a brief series of letters exchanged between Alexander and Dindimus, the king of the Brahmans, since the Epitome omits the two chapters of Valerius that describe Alexander’s meeting with the Brahmans. It is believed that Alcuin, who passed away in 804, mentioned sending these letters exchanged between Alexander and Dindimus in one of his letters to Charlemagne, along with the similarly apocryphal correspondence of the apostle Paul and the philosopher Seneca. No such letters are found in the Pseudo-Callisthenes, as the ten chapters on the Brahmans found in one Greek manuscript are taken from Palladius's treatise, also in the form of correspondence.[2301] Julius Valerius doesn’t even mention Dindimus, but there's a third discussion about the Brahmans in Latin, De moribus Brachmannorum, attributed to St. Ambrose.[2302]

[Pg 557]

[Pg 557]

Leo’s Historia de praeliis.

Leo, an archpriest of Naples, who went to Constantinople about 941-944 on an embassy for two dukes of Campania, John and Marinus, brought back with him a History containing the conflicts and victories of Alexander the Great, King of Macedon. Later Duke John, who was fond of science, had Leo translate this work from Greek into Latin, in which tongue it is entitled Historia de praeliis. We learn these facts from its prologue which is found only in the oldest extant manuscript, a Bamberg codex of the eleventh century,[2303] and in a manuscript of the twelfth or thirteenth century at Munich. The location of these two manuscripts suggests that the work was early carried from Italy to Germany, lands then connected in the Holy Roman Empire. Of the De praeliis apart from the prologue there came to be many copies, but most of them date from the later middle ages, and the importance of the work as a source for the vernacular romances of Alexander has been somewhat overestimated, since Meyer has shown that no manuscript of it is found in France until the thirteenth century and since the manuscripts of the Epitome are far more numerous.[2304]

Leo, an archpriest from Naples, traveled to Constantinople around 941-944 on a mission for two dukes of Campania, John and Marinus. He brought back a History of the conflicts and victories of Alexander the Great, King of Macedon. Later, Duke John, who had a passion for science, had Leo translate this work from Greek into Latin, where it is titled Historia de praeliis. We learn these details from the prologue, which is found only in the oldest surviving manuscript, a Bamberg codex from the eleventh century, [2303] and in a twelfth or thirteenth century manuscript located in Munich. The presence of these two manuscripts suggests that the work was early transported from Italy to Germany, regions that were then part of the Holy Roman Empire. Many copies of the De praeliis exist besides the prologue, but most are from the later Middle Ages. The significance of the work as a source for the vernacular romances of Alexander has been somewhat overstated, as Meyer has shown that no manuscript exists in France until the thirteenth century, and the manuscripts of the Epitome are much more numerous. [2304]

Medieval metamorphosis of ancient tradition.

In the foregoing observations we may seem to have digressed too far from our main theme of science and magic into the domain of literary history. But the development of the Alexander legend, which happens to have been traced more thoroughly than perhaps any other one thread in the medieval metamorphosis of ancient tradition, throws light at least by analogy upon many matters in which we are interested: the state of medieval manuscript material, the continuity and yet the alteration of ancient culture during the early middle ages, the process of translation from the Greek which went on even then, and the varying rapidity or slowness with which books circulated and ideas permeated.

In the earlier points we might seem to have strayed too far from our main topic of science and magic into the area of literary history. However, the evolution of the Alexander legend, which has been explored more thoroughly than possibly any other aspect of the medieval transformation of ancient tradition, sheds light, at least by comparison, on many topics we find important: the state of medieval manuscript materials, the continuity and yet the changes in ancient culture during the early Middle Ages, the process of translating from Greek that was happening even then, and the varying speeds at which books were shared and ideas spread.

[Pg 558]

[Pg 558]

Survival of magical and scientific features.

Moreover, the story of Alexander, especially as adapted by the middle ages, contained a large amount of magic and science, more especially the former. The Epitome might omit a great deal else, but it kept intact the opening portion of the Pseudo-Callisthenes and of Julius Valerius concerning the adventures of Nectanebus, the sage and magician from Egypt, the astrologer and the natural father of Alexander. Indeed, the titles in some manuscripts suggest that Nectanebus came to rival Alexander for medieval readers as the hero of the story. Thus we find a History of Alexander, King of Macedon, and of Nectanebo, King of Egypt,[2305] or an account Of the Life and Deeds of Neptanabus, astronomer of Egypt,[2306] or a Latin metrical version by “Uilikinus” or Aretinus Quilichinus of Spoleto in 1236 entitled, The History of the Science of the Egyptians and of Neptanabus their king who afterwards was the true father of Alexander.[2307]

Moreover, the story of Alexander, especially as it was adapted during the Middle Ages, included a lot of magic and science, particularly the magic. The Epitome might have left out many details, but it preserved the beginning parts of the Pseudo-Callisthenes and Julius Valerius about the adventures of Nectanebus, the wise man and magician from Egypt, the astrologer, and the biological father of Alexander. In fact, the titles in some manuscripts suggest that Nectanebus became a rival to Alexander for medieval readers as the hero of the story. So we find a History of Alexander, King of Macedon, and of Nectanebo, King of Egypt,[2305] or an account Of the Life and Deeds of Neptanabus, astronomer of Egypt,[2306] or a Latin metrical version by “Uilikinus” or Aretinus Quilichinus of Spoleto in 1236 titled, The History of the Science of the Egyptians and of Neptanabus their king who afterwards was the true father of Alexander.[2307]

Who was Nectanebus?

Pliny in the Natural History describes the obelisk of Necthebis, king of Egypt, whom he places five centuries before Alexander the Great.[2308] Plutarch, however, in his life of Agesilaus and Nepos in his life of Chabrias mention a Nectanebus II who struggled against Persia for the throne of Egypt about 361 B. C. and later was forced to flee to Ethiopia. In the Alexander romance, however, it is to Macedon that Nectanebus retreats. A Nectabis is listed as a magician along with Ostanes, Typhon, Dardanus, Damigeron, and Berenice, by Tertullian, writing about 200 A. D.[2309] As a matter of fact, in the Thirtieth Dynasty were two kings named respectively Nektanebes or Nekht-Har-ehbēt, who ruled 378 to 361 B. C., and Nektanebos or Nekhte-nebof, who ruled 358 to 341 B. C. Both have left considerable[Pg 559] buildings.[2310] It is the latter who was forced by the Persians to flee to Ethiopia nine years before Alexander conquered Egypt and who is the hero of our story. The stele of Metternich is covered with magical formulae ascribed to Nectanebo.[2311]

Pliny in the Natural History talks about the obelisk of Necthebis, the king of Egypt, whom he places five centuries before Alexander the Great. [2308] However, Plutarch, in his biography of Agesilaus, and Nepos, in his biography of Chabrias, mention a Nectanebus II who fought against Persia for the throne of Egypt around 361 B.C. and later had to escape to Ethiopia. In the Alexander romance, though, Nectanebus is said to have retreated to Macedon. Tertullian, writing around 200 A.D., lists a Nectabis as a magician alongside Ostanes, Typhon, Dardanus, Damigeron, and Berenice. [2309] In fact, during the Thirtieth Dynasty, there were two kings named Nektanebes or Nekht-Har-ehbēt, who ruled from 378 to 361 B.C., and Nektanebos or Nekhte-nebof, who ruled from 358 to 341 B.C. Both made significant [Pg 559] contributions in terms of architecture. [2310] It is the latter who was forced to flee to Ethiopia nine years before Alexander conquered Egypt and who is the hero of our story. The stele of Metternich features magical formulas attributed to Nectanebo. [2311]

A scientific key-note.

A note suggestive of both natural science and occult science is struck by the opening passage of the Latin epitomes and of the oldest Greek manuscript; the first page of Julius Valerius is missing and has to be supplied from the epitomes. The first words are “The Egyptian sages,” and the first sentence describes their scientific ability in measuring the earth and in tracing the revolutions of the heavens and numbering the stars. “And of them all Nectanabus is recognized to have been the most prudent ... for the elements of the universe obeyed him.” In the opening sentences of the oldest Greek version and of the Ethiopic version even more emphasis is laid than in the Epitomes upon the learning of the Egyptians in general and of Nectanebus in particular, and of the close connection of that learning with astrology and magic.[2312] We read, “Now there lived in the land of Egypt a king who was called Bektanis, and he was a famous magician and a sage, and he was deeply learned in the wisdom of the Egyptians. And he had more knowledge than all the wise men who knew what was in the depths of the Nile and in the abysses, and who were skilled in the knowledge of the stars and of their seasons and in the knowledge of the astrolabe and in the casting of nativities.... And by his learning and by his observations of the stars Nectanebus was able to predict what would befall anyone who was about to be born.”[2313] In one Latin manuscript of the fifteenth century the History of Alexander the Great begins with the

A note that hints at both natural science and mystical knowledge is struck by the opening passage of the Latin summaries and the oldest Greek manuscript; the first page of Julius Valerius is missing and needs to be filled in from the summaries. The first words are “The Egyptian sages,” and the first sentence highlights their scientific skill in measuring the earth, tracking the movements of the heavens, and counting the stars. “And among them all, Nectanabus is recognized as the most wise... for the elements of the universe obeyed him.” The opening sentences of both the oldest Greek version and the Ethiopic version place even greater emphasis than the summaries on the knowledge of the Egyptians in general and Nectanebus in particular, as well as the close relationship between that knowledge and astrology and magic.[2312] We read, “Now there lived in the land of Egypt a king named Bektanis, who was a renowned magician and sage, deeply knowledgeable in the wisdom of the Egyptians. He possessed more knowledge than all the wise men who understood the mysteries of the Nile and the depths, and who were skilled in the knowledge of the stars and their cycles, in the use of the astrolabe, and in casting nativities.... And through his learning and observations of the stars, Nectanebus was able to predict the fate of anyone about to be born.”[2313] In one Latin manuscript from the fifteenth century, the History of Alexander the Great begins with the

5[Pg 560] sentence, “Books tell us how powerful the race of the Egyptians were in mathematics and the magic art.”[2314]

5[Pg 560] sentence, “Books show us how powerful the Egyptians were in mathematics and the mystical arts.”[2314]

Magic of Nectanebus.

Next we are told, and the account is practically the same in all the versions of the story, how by means of his basin filled with water, his wax images of ships and men, his rod or wand of ebony, and the incantations with which he addressed the gods above and below, Nectanebus had been hitherto able to destroy all the armies and to sink all the fleets that had come against him. But when one day he found his magic unavailing to save him, he shaved his head and beard and fled to Macedon, where in linen garb he plied the trade of an astrologer.

Next, we’re told— and this part of the story is pretty consistent across different versions— that Nectanebus used a basin filled with water, his wax figures of ships and people, his ebony rod or wand, and the spells he recited to the gods above and below to defeat all the armies and sink all the fleets that came against him. But one day, when his magic failed to protect him, he shaved his head and beard and fled to Macedon, where he dressed in linen and became an astrologer.

Nectanebus as an astrologer.

In this he soon became so celebrated that the fame of his predictions reached the ears of the queen Olympias, who consulted him during an absence of Philip. When she asked Nectanebus by means of what art he divined the future so truthfully, he answered that there were many varieties of divination. Julius Valerius and the Latin epitomes mention specifically only interpreters of dreams and astrologers, but the Greek, Syriac, and Ethiopic versions give more elaborate lists of various kinds of diviners.[2315] Nectanebus next produced an astrological tablet adorned with gold and ivory and with each planet and the horoscope represented by a different stone or metal. With the aid of this he read the[Pg 561] queen’s horoscope and told her that she would have a son by the God Ammon and would be forewarned soon to that effect in a dream. Olympias replied that if such a dream came to her, she would no longer employ Nectanebus as a magus but honor him as a god.

In this, he quickly became so famous that word of his predictions reached Queen Olympias, who sought his advice while Philip was away. When she asked Nectanebus how he was able to predict the future so accurately, he replied that there are many types of divination. Julius Valerius and the Latin summaries specifically mention only dream interpreters and astrologers, but the Greek, Syriac, and Ethiopic versions list a wider variety of diviners. [2315] Nectanebus then presented an astrological tablet adorned with gold and ivory, with each planet and the horoscope represented by a different stone or metal. Using this, he read the queen’s horoscope and told her that she would have a son by the God Ammon and would soon receive a sign of this in a dream. Olympias responded that if such a dream came to her, she would no longer see Nectanebus as a magus, but would honor him as a god.

A magic dream.

Nectanebus thereupon sought for herbs useful to command dreams, plucked them, and pressed a syrup out of them. He placed a wax image of the queen inscribed with her name upon a little couch, lighted lamps, and poured his syrup over the wax figure, muttering a secret and efficacious incantation the while. By this means he brought it about that the queen would dream or think she dreamed whatever he said to the wax image of her. Later Nectanebus himself played the part of the god Ammon, announcing his coming beforehand to Olympias by making by his “science” a dragon which glided into her presence.

Nectanebus then looked for herbs that could control dreams, picked them, and extracted a syrup from them. He set up a wax figure of the queen with her name carved on it on a small couch, lit some lamps, and poured his syrup over the wax figure while whispering a secret and powerful spell. This way, he ensured that the queen would dream or think she dreamed whatever he said to the wax image of her. Later, Nectanebus himself took on the role of the god Ammon, announcing his arrival in advance to Olympias by using his “expertise” to create a dragon that slithered into her presence.

Lucian on Olympias and the serpent.

Lucian of Samosata in the second century tells us that it was a common story in his time that Olympias had lain with a serpent before giving birth to Alexander. He suggests as the explanation of how this tale originated the fact that at Pella in Macedonia there is a breed of large serpents, “so tame and gentle that women make pets of them, children take them to bed, they will let you tread on them, have no objection to being squeezed, and will draw milk from the breasts like infants.... It was doubtless one of these that was her bedfellow.”[2316] As is apt to be the case in ancient efforts to give a natural explanation of what purports to be miraculous or supernatural, Lucian’s biology is only slightly less incredible than Nectanebus’s magic transformations.

Lucian of Samosata in the second century tells us that it was a common story in his time that Olympias had slept with a serpent before giving birth to Alexander. He suggests that this tale came about because there are large snakes in Pella, Macedonia, “so tame and gentle that women keep them as pets, children take them to bed, they’ll let you walk on them, don’t mind being squeezed, and can drink milk from the breasts like babies.... It was probably one of these that was her partner.” [2316] As is often the case in ancient attempts to provide a natural explanation for what is supposed to be miraculous or supernatural, Lucian’s biology is only slightly less unbelievable than Nectanebus’s magical transformations.

More dream-sending: magic transformation.

As the queen became pregnant, “Nectanebus consecrated a hawk and told it to go to Philip,” who was still absent, “to stand by him through the night and to instruct him in a dream as it was ordered.”[2317] The vision in question was explained[Pg 562] by an interpreter of dreams to Philip as signifying that his wife would have a son by the god Ammon. Nevertheless Philip was somewhat suspicious and hastened to bring his wars to a close and hurry home. Nectanebus, however, rendering himself invisible by means of the magic art, continued to deceive both king and queen. Once he terrified the court by appearing again in the form of a huge hissing serpent, but put his head in Olympias’s lap and then kissed her. Thereupon he turned from a serpent into an eagle and flew away. Philip was then really convinced that his wife’s lover was the god Ammon.

As the queen became pregnant, “Nectanebus dedicated a hawk and instructed it to go to Philip,” who was still away, “to stay with him through the night and guide him in a dream as directed.”[2317] An interpreter of dreams explained the vision to Philip, saying it meant that his wife would have a son with the god Ammon. However, Philip was a bit skeptical and rushed to wrap up his wars and return home. Nectanebus, though, made himself invisible using magic and continued to trick both the king and queen. At one point, he shocked the court by appearing as a large hissing serpent, but then he laid his head in Olympias’s lap and kissed her. After that, he transformed from a serpent into an eagle and flew away. Philip was then truly convinced that his wife’s lover was the god Ammon.

An omen interpreted.

Before the birth of Alexander the following omen befell Philip. As he sat absorbed in thought in a place where there were many birds flying about, one of them laid an egg in his lap. It rolled to the ground, the shell broke, and a snake issued forth. It circled about the egg-shell but when it tried to re-enter the shell was prevented by death. When Antiphon, the interpreter of omens, was consulted concerning this portent, he said that it signified that a son should be born who would conquer the world but die before he could regain his native land.

Before Alexander was born, Philip experienced a strange omen. While he was deep in thought in a place filled with flying birds, one of them laid an egg in his lap. The egg rolled to the ground, broke open, and a snake came out. The snake circled the eggshell, but when it tried to go back inside, it couldn't and died. When Antiphon, the interpreter of omens, was asked about this sign, he said it meant that a son would be born who would conquer the world but would die before returning home.

The birth of Alexander.

The day of Olympias’s delivery now approached and Nectanebus, in his office of astrologer, stood by her side to tell her when the favorable moment had arrived for the birth of her child. Once he urged her to wait, since a child born at that moment would be a slave and a captive. Again he bade her restrain herself, for at that moment an effeminate would be born. At last the favorable instant came for the birth of a world conqueror, and Alexander was born amid an earthquake, thunder, and lightning. In this case, therefore, the moment of birth is regarded as controlling the destiny. Many astrologers, however, considered the moment of conception as of greater importance; we have already[Pg 563] heard Augustine tell of the sage who chose a certain hour for intercourse with his wife in order to beget a marvelous son; and in the thirteenth century Albertus Magnus, in his treatise on animals, informs us that “Nectanebus, the natural father of Alexander, in having intercourse with his mother Olympias, observed the time when the sun was entering Leo and Saturn was in Taurus, since he wished his son to receive the form and power of those planets.”[2318]

The day Olympias was set to give birth was approaching, and Nectanebus, acting as her astrologer, stood by her side to tell her when the right moment for her child's arrival would come. At one point, he urged her to hold off, saying that a child born at that time would be a slave and a captive. Then he told her to wait again, as a delicate child would be born at that moment. Finally, the perfect moment arrived for the birth of a world conqueror, and Alexander was born amidst an earthquake, thunder, and lightning. In this case, the timing of the birth was seen as determining his fate. However, many astrologers believed the moment of conception was more significant; we have already heard Augustine recount the story of the sage who picked a specific hour for intimacy with his wife to conceive an extraordinary son. In the thirteenth century, Albertus Magnus, in his work on animals, mentioned that “Nectanebus, the biological father of Alexander, timed his encounter with his mother Olympias for when the sun was entering Leo and Saturn was in Taurus because he wanted his son to inherit the characteristics and power of those planets.”[Pg 563]

The death of Nectanebus.

The death of Nectanebus was as closely in accord with the stars as was the birth of Alexander. At the age of twelve Alexander found Nectanebus in consultation with Olympias and, attracted by his astrological tablet, made him promise to show him the stars at night. Then as Nectanebus walked along star-gazing, Alexander pushed him into a steep pit which they chanced to pass, and Nectanebus lay there with a broken neck. When he asked Alexander the reason for his act, the boy replied that it was in order to convince him of the futility of his art, since he gazed at the stars unmindful of what threatened him from the ground. But Nectanebus rebuts this revised version of the maid servant’s taunt to Thales by telling Alexander that he had been forewarned by the stars that he should be killed by his own son, and by revealing to Alexander the secret of his birth.[2319]

The death of Nectanebus was just as tied to the stars as Alexander's birth. When Alexander was twelve, he found Nectanebus meeting with Olympias and, intrigued by his astrological tablet, made him promise to show him the stars at night. Later, as Nectanebus was walking and stargazing, Alexander pushed him into a steep pit they happened to pass, and Nectanebus ended up there with a broken neck. When he asked Alexander why he did it, the boy replied that he wanted to prove to him the uselessness of his skills, since he was so focused on the stars that he didn’t see the danger right in front of him. But Nectanebus countered this revised version of the maid servant’s taunt to Thales by telling Alexander that the stars had warned him he would be killed by his own son and by revealing the secret of his birth to Alexander.[2319]

In concluding the story of Nectanebus it is perhaps worth while to emphasize the fact that the epitomes and Julius Valerius often use the word magus of Nectanebus as an astrologer and that in general magic, astrology, and divination are indissolubly connected.

In wrapping up the story of Nectanebus, it's important to highlight that the summaries and Julius Valerius frequently refer to Nectanebus as a magus in the context of astrology, and that overall, magic, astrology, and divination are tightly intertwined.

[Pg 564]

[Pg 564]

The Amazons and Gymnosophists.

Some account is given both in Julius Valerius and the longer epitome of Alexander’s exchange of letters with the Amazons and of questions which he put to the Gymnosophists of India (i. e. the Brahmans) and their replies. Neither of these promising themes, however, results in the introduction of any magic or occult science. We also find in the Stromata of Clement of Alexandria[2320] a list of ten questions which Alexander propounded to ten of the Gymnosophists of India and their ingenious answers given under pain of death if their responses proved unsatisfactory.

Some details are provided in Julius Valerius and the longer summary of Alexander’s correspondence with the Amazons, as well as the questions he asked the Gymnosophists of India (i.e., the Brahmans) and their answers. However, neither of these intriguing topics leads to the introduction of any magic or occult knowledge. We also see in the Stromata of Clement of Alexandria[2320] a list of ten questions that Alexander asked ten of the Gymnosophists of India, along with their clever answers given under the threat of death if their responses were deemed unsatisfactory.

The letter to Aristotle.

Nor does Alexander’s letter to Aristotle on the marvels of India reveal many specific instances of superstition that are at all interesting. For the most part it recounts his marches, the sufferings of his army from thirst, combats with wild beasts, serpents, and hippopotamuses, and the treasures which he captured. Alexander states that “in former letters I informed you about the eclipse of the sun and moon and the constancy of the stars and the signs of the air.”[2321] He tells now, however, of a place where there are two trees of the sun and moon, speaking Indian and Greek, one masculine and the other feminine, from which one may learn what the future has in store for good or evil. As to this Alexander was inclined to be incredulous, but the natives swore that it was true, and his companions urged him “not to be defrauded of the experience of so great a thing.” Accordingly he made his way to the spot despite the innumerable beasts and snakes which beset his path. Chastity was essential in order to approach the trees, and he also had to lay aside his rings, royal robes, and shoes. The sun tree then told him at dawn that he would never see home or his mother and sisters again. At eventide the moon tree added that he would die at Babylon.[2322] The third and final response,[Pg 565] vouchsafed by the sun tree, was that his death would be from poison, but the name of the poisoner the oracular tree refused to divulge lest Alexander try to kill him first and thus cheat the three Fates. Alexander has consequently had to content himself, as he informs Aristotle in the closing sentence of his letter, with building a monument to perpetuate his name among all mortals.[2323]

Nor does Alexander’s letter to Aristotle about the wonders of India reveal many specific examples of superstition that are particularly interesting. For the most part, it recounts his marches, the struggles of his army with thirst, battles with wild animals, snakes, and hippos, and the treasures he captured. Alexander states that “in previous letters I told you about the eclipse of the sun and moon, the regularity of the stars, and signs in the sky.”[2321] He now describes a place where there are two trees representing the sun and moon, speaking both Indian and Greek—one masculine and the other feminine—through which one can learn about the future, whether good or bad. Alexander was skeptical about this, but the locals insisted it was true, and his companions urged him “not to miss out on such an incredible experience.” So, he went to the site despite the countless beasts and snakes that obstructed his way. Chastity was essential to approach the trees, and he also had to remove his rings, royal robes, and shoes. The sun tree then told him at dawn that he would never see home or his mother and sisters again. In the evening, the moon tree added that he would die in Babylon.[2322] The third and final response,[Pg 565] given by the sun tree, was that his death would be caused by poison, but the name of the poisoner was kept secret by the oracular tree to prevent Alexander from killing him first and cheating the three Fates. Consequently, Alexander had to settle, as he tells Aristotle in the closing sentence of his letter, for building a monument to ensure his name lives on among all mortals.[2323]

Of other spurious treatises ascribed to Alexander in the middle ages, works of alchemy and works of astrology, we shall treat in a later chapter on the Pseudo-Aristotle.

Of other false works attributed to Alexander in the Middle Ages, including texts on alchemy and astrology, we will discuss in a later chapter on the Pseudo-Aristotle.


[Pg 566]

[Pg 566]

CHAPTER XXV
POST-CLASSICAL MEDICINE

Three representatives of post-classical medicine—Bibliographical note—Medical compendiums: Oribasius and Paul of Aegina—Aëtius of Amida—How superstitious are Aëtius and Alexander of Tralles?—Compound medicines—Aëtius merely reproduces the superstition of Galen—Occult science mixed with some scepticism—Alexander of Tralles—Originality of his work—His medieval influence—His personal experience—Extent of his superstition—Physica—Occult virtue of substances applied externally—Other things used as ligatures and amulets—Astrology and sculpture of rings—Incantations—Conjuration of an herb—Medieval version seems less superstitious than the original text—Marcellus: date and identity—“Marcellus Empiricus”—Superstitious character of his medicine—Preparation of goat’s blood—A rabbit’s foot—Magic transfer of disease—Pliny and Marcellus compared on green lizards as eye-cures—More lizardry—Use of stones and an herb—Right and left: number—Incantations and characters—The art of medicine survives the barbarian invasions.

Three representatives of post-classical medicine—Bibliographical note—Medical compendiums: Oribasius and Paul of Aegina—Aëtius of Amida—How superstitious are Aëtius and Alexander of Tralles?—Compound medicines—Aëtius just repeats the superstitions of Galen—Occult science mixed with some skepticism—Alexander of Tralles—Originality of his work—His medieval influence—His personal experiences—Extent of his superstition—Physica—Occult powers of substances used externally—Other items used as bindings and amulets—Astrology and rings—Incantations—Calling upon an herb—The medieval version seems less superstitious than the original text—Marcellus: date and identity—“Marcellus Empiricus”—Superstitious nature of his medicine—Preparation of goat’s blood—A rabbit’s foot—Magical transfer of disease—Pliny and Marcellus compared on green lizards as cures for eyes—More lizard remedies—Use of stones and an herb—Right and left: number—Incantations and symbols—The art of medicine survives the barbarian invasions.

Three representatives of post-classical medicine.

In this chapter as representatives of post-classical medicine and its influence upon medieval Latin medicine we shall consider three writers whose works date from the close of the fourth to the middle of the sixth century, Marcellus of Bordeaux or Marcellus Empiricus, Aëtius of Amida in Mesopotamia, and Alexander of Tralles in Asia Minor.[2324] They have just been mentioned in their chronological order, [Pg 567] but although Marcellus antedates the other two by a full century, we shall consider him last, since he wrote in Latin while they wrote in Greek, and since he includes Celtic words and probably Celtic folk-lore, and since he seems to have[Pg 568] been a native of Gaul, if not of Bordeaux,[2325] and thus is geographically closer to the scene of medieval Latin learning. Aëtius and Alexander have the closer connection not only with the eastern and Greek world but also with the past classical medicine of Galen and so will provide a better point of departure. Presumably from the places and periods in which they lived, all three of our authors were Christians, but it must be said that the chief evidence of Christianity in their works is the use of Christian or Hebrew proper names in incantations, and there are some analogous relics of pagan superstition.

In this chapter, as representatives of post-classical medicine and its impact on medieval Latin medicine, we will look at three writers whose works range from the late fourth to the mid-sixth century: Marcellus of Bordeaux (or Marcellus Empiricus), Aëtius of Amida in Mesopotamia, and Alexander of Tralles in Asia Minor.[2324] They have just been mentioned in their chronological order, [Pg 567] but even though Marcellus came before the other two by a full century, we will discuss him last. He wrote in Latin while the others wrote in Greek, and he incorporates Celtic words and possibly Celtic folklore. It appears he was a native of Gaul, if not Bordeaux, [2325] which makes him geographically closer to the setting of medieval Latin learning. Aëtius and Alexander have a closer link not only to the eastern and Greek world but also to the classical medicine of Galen, making them a better starting point. Presumably, all three authors were Christians based on the places and times they lived in, but it's worth noting that the main evidence of Christianity in their works is the use of Christian or Hebrew proper names in incantations, along with some remnants of pagan superstition.

Medical compendiums: Oribasius and Paul of Aegina.

As Tribonian and Justinian boiled down the voluminous legal literature of Rome into one Digest, so there was a similar tendency to reduce the past medical writings of the Greeks into one compendious work. Paul of Aegina, writing in the seventh century, observes in his preface[2326] that it is not right, when lawyers who usually have plenty of time to reflect over their cases have handy summaries of their subject to which they can refer, that physicians whose cases often require immediate action should not also have some[Pg 569] convenient handbook, and the more so since many of them are called upon to exercise their profession not in large cities with easy access to libraries, but in the country, in desert places, or on shipboard. Oribasius, friend and physician of the emperor Julian, 361-363 A. D., had made such a compendium by that emperor’s order. In this he embodied so much of Galen’s teachings that he became known as “the ape of Galen,”[2327] although he also used more recent writers. But Paul of Aegina regarded this work of Oribasius as too bulky, since it originally comprised seventy-two books although only twenty-five are now extant, and so essayed a briefer compilation of his own. Two centuries ago, however, Friend and Milward protested against regarding Paul, Aëtius, and Alexander as mere compilers and maintained that they “were really men of great learning and experience”[2328] who “have described distempers which were omitted before; taught a new method of treating old ones; given an account of new medicines, both simple and compound; and made large additions to the practice of surgery.”[2329] Puschmann more recently states that Paul’s compendium was “composed with great originality and independence” and is of great value “particularly in its surgical sections.”[2330] After Paul, however, the Byzantine medical writers, such as Palladius, Theophilus, Stephen of Alexandria, Nonus, and Psellus, were of an inferior caliber.[2331] With Paul’s work, however, we are not now further concerned, nor with that of Oribasius, but with the somewhat similar compendiums of Aëtius and Alexander which lie chronologically between these other two. It is Aëtius and Alexander whom Payne accuses of “introducing into classical medicine the magical elements derived from the East”[2332] and whom we[Pg 570] might therefore expect to possess an especial interest for our investigation.

As Tribonian and Justinian condensed the extensive legal texts of Rome into one Digest, there was a similar effort to compile the historical medical writings of the Greeks into a single comprehensive work. Paul of Aegina, writing in the seventh century, notes in his preface[2326] that it seems unfair that while lawyers, who generally have ample time to consider their cases, have easy access to summaries of their field, physicians – whose cases often require quick decisions – should not have a convenient handbook, especially since many practice in rural areas, in remote locations, or at sea. Oribasius, friend and physician to Emperor Julian (361-363 A.D.), created such a compendium at the emperor's request. In this work, he included much of Galen’s teachings, earning him the nickname “the ape of Galen,”[2327] although he also referenced more contemporary writers. However, Paul of Aegina found Oribasius’s work too extensive, as it originally consisted of seventy-two books, though only twenty-five survive today, prompting him to attempt a shorter compilation of his own. Two centuries ago, though, Friend and Milward argued against viewing Paul, Aëtius, and Alexander merely as compilers, asserting that they “were really men of great learning and experience”[2328] who “have described ailments that were previously omitted; taught a new method of treating old ones; provided accounts of new medicines, both simple and compound; and made significant contributions to surgical practice.”[2329] Puschmann more recently stated that Paul’s compendium was “composed with great originality and independence” and is particularly valuable “especially in its surgical sections.”[2330] After Paul, however, the Byzantine medical writers, including Palladius, Theophilus, Stephen of Alexandria, Nonus, and Psellus, were of lesser quality.[2331] With Paul’s work off the agenda, as well as Oribasius’s, we focus on the somewhat similar compilations of Aëtius and Alexander, which are chronologically between the two. Aëtius and Alexander are the ones whom Payne accuses of “introducing into classical medicine the magical elements derived from the East”[2332] and therefore, we might expect them to be particularly relevant to our investigation.

Aëtius of Amida.

Of the life and personality of Aëtius we know very little, but inasmuch as he mentions St. Cyril, archbishop of Alexandria, and Peter the Archiater, a physician of Theodoric, while he himself is cited by Alexander of Tralles, he seems to have lived at the end of the fifth and beginning of the sixth century.[2333] And since Alexander cites him only in his book on fevers which seems to have been composed after the rest of his work, it seems probable that Aëtius was almost contemporary with him and wrote in the sixth rather than the fifth century. His Tetrabiblos—each of the four books subdivides into four sections and often these are spoken of as sixteen books—occupies a middle position not only in time but in length between the works of Oribasius and Paul, and resembles the latter in making a great deal of use of the former. Aëtius’ extracts from the older writers are shorter than those of Oribasius, however, and he also differs from him in combining several authorities in a single chapter, the method usually adopted by the medieval Latin encyclopedists. It has been noted that the wording of the original authorities was often preserved in the oldest medieval manuscripts of Aëtius, until the copyists of the time of the Italian Renaissance began to touch up the style in accordance with their erroneous notions of what constituted classical Greek.[2334] It may also be said that these systematically arranged handbooks of Oribasius, Aëtius, and the rest, where one could find what one was looking after, were far superior in systematic and orderly presentation to the discursive works of Galen which, like many other classical writings, often seem rambling and without any particular plan.[2335] This more logical, if somewhat cut-and-dried[Pg 571] method, was also to be a virtue of medieval Latin learning. Whether Aëtius directly influenced the Latin middle ages is doubtful, since no early Latin translation of him seems to be known.[2336] The work of Oribasius, however, exists in Latin translation in manuscripts of the seventh century as well as in others of the ninth and twelfth.[2337]

We know very little about Aëtius’s life and personality, but he refers to St. Cyril, the archbishop of Alexandria, and Peter the Archiater, a physician of Theodoric. Since Alexander of Tralles cites Aëtius, it appears he lived at the end of the fifth century and the beginning of the sixth century. Because Alexander only mentions him in his book on fevers, which seems to have been written after the rest of his works, it's likely that Aëtius was practically contemporary with him and composed his writing in the sixth century rather than the fifth. His Tetrabiblos—which is divided into four books, each with four sections, often referred to as sixteen books—falls in between the works of Oribasius and Paul in both time and length, resembling Paul more by relying heavily on Oribasius. However, Aëtius’ excerpts from older writers are shorter than Oribasius’s, and he also differs by combining multiple sources in a single chapter, a method commonly used by medieval Latin encyclopedists. It's noted that the original wording was often preserved in the oldest medieval manuscripts of Aëtius until the copyists of the Italian Renaissance started to revise the style based on their mistaken ideas of classical Greek. Additionally, these systematically organized handbooks of Oribasius, Aëtius, and others, where one could easily find specific information, were significantly better in systematic and organized presentation compared to Galen's discursive works, which, like many other classical texts, often seem rambling and lacking a clear plan. This more logical, albeit somewhat rigid, approach would also become a hallmark of medieval Latin scholarship. Whether Aëtius had a direct impact on the Latin Middle Ages remains uncertain, as no early Latin translation of his work appears to exist. However, Oribasius's work does have Latin translations found in manuscripts dating back to the seventh century, as well as ones from the ninth and twelfth centuries.

How superstitious are Aëtius and Alexander?

The works of Aëtius and Alexander of Tralles do not impress me as containing an unusually large amount of superstitious medicine. Much less am I inclined to agree with Payne that they are responsible for the introduction into classical medicine of magical elements derived from the east. These elements, whether derived from the orient any more than any other feature of classical civilization or not, at any rate had been a prominent feature of classical medicine long before the days of Aëtius and Alexander, as Pliny’s review of medicine before his time abundantly proved and as is also shown by the extraordinary virtues which Pliny himself, his contemporary Dioscorides, and even the great Galen attributed to medicinal simples.

The works of Aëtius and Alexander of Tralles don’t strike me as having an unusually high amount of superstitious medicine. I’m even less inclined to agree with Payne that they introduced magical elements from the east into classical medicine. These elements, whether they came from the east or any other aspect of classical civilization, had already been a significant part of classical medicine long before Aëtius and Alexander, as Pliny’s overview of medicine before his time clearly demonstrated, and as shown by the remarkable properties that Pliny himself, his contemporary Dioscorides, and even the great Galen attributed to medicinal plants.

Compound medicines.

It is true that Aëtius and Alexander abound in recipes for elaborate medical compounds composed of numerous ingredients. Of such concoctions one example must suffice, a plaster which Aëtius recommends for tumors, hard lumps, and gout. “Of the terebinth-tree, of the stone of Asia, of bitumen three hundred and sixty drams each; of washing-soda (spumae nitri), calf-fat, wax, laurel berries, ammonia, and thyme three hundred and forty drams each; of the stone pyrites and quick-lime one hundred and twenty drams each; of the ashes of asps which have been burned alive one[Pg 572] hundred and forty drams; of old oil two pounds. First liquefy the oil and wax, then the bitumen, which should have first been pulverized. Add to these the fat, and presently the ammonia and terebinth; and when these are taken off the fire mix in the lime and stone of Asia, then the laurel berries and washing-soda, and finally after the medicament has cooled sprinkle the ashes of asps upon it.”[2338] Such concoctions are to a large extent borrowed by Aëtius, Alexander, and Marcellus from earlier writers. Moreover, while Pliny had excluded such compounds from the pages of his Natural History, he had also made it abundantly evident that they were already in general use by his time, and they are to be found in great numbers in the works of Galen who cites many from preceding writers.

It’s true that Aëtius and Alexander have plenty of recipes for complex medical mixtures made from a variety of ingredients. One example of such a mixture is a plaster that Aëtius recommends for tumors, hard lumps, and gout. “Take three hundred and sixty drams each of terebinth tree resin, Asian stone, and bitumen; three hundred and forty drams each of washing soda (spumae nitri), calf fat, wax, laurel berries, ammonia, and thyme; one hundred and twenty drams each of pyrite stone and quicklime; one hundred and forty drams of the ashes of asps that have been burned alive; and two pounds of old oil. First, melt the oil and wax, then add the bitumen, which should be crushed beforehand. Next, mix in the fat, and then the ammonia and terebinth; then remove it from the heat and add the lime and Asian stone, followed by the laurel berries and washing soda. Finally, after the mixture has cooled, sprinkle the ashes of the asps on top.”[Pg 572] Aëtius, Alexander, and Marcellus have largely borrowed these recipes from earlier writers. Additionally, while Pliny excluded these compounds from his Natural History, he clearly indicated that they were already widely used by his time, and many can be found in the works of Galen, who cites a number from earlier authors.

Aëtius merely reproduces the superstition of Galen.

Indeed, it was from Galen himself and not from the east that Aëtius at least derived his most strikingly superstitious passages. This was accidentally and convincingly proven by my own experience. It so happened that I wrote an account of the passages in the Tetrabiblos of Aëtius before I had read extensively in Galen’s works. When I came to do so, I found that almost every passage that I had selected to illustrate the superstitious side of Aëtius was contained in Galen: for example, the use as an amulet of a green jasper suspended from the neck by a thread so as to touch the abdomen;[2339] the story of the reapers who found the dead viper in their wine and cured instead of killing the sufferer from elephantiasis to whom they gave the wine to drink;[2340] the tale of his preceptor who roasted river crabs to an ash in a red copper dish in August during dog-days on the eighteenth day of the moon, and administered the powder daily for forty days to persons bitten by mad dogs.[2341] Such[Pg 573] passages are usually repeated by Aëtius in such a way as to lead the reader to think them his own experiences, a fact which warns us not to accept the assertions of ancient and medieval authors that they have experienced this or that at their face value, and which makes us wonder if Friend and Milward were not too generous in regarding Aëtius at least as more than a compiler. He also repeats some of Galen’s general observations anent experience as that the virtues of simples are best discovered thus, and that he will not discuss all plants but only those “of which we have information by experience.”[2342] He further reproduces Galen’s attitude of mingled credulity and scepticism concerning the basilisk, combining the two passages into one;[2343] also Galen’s questioning the efficacy of incantations and telling of having seen a scorpion killed by the mere spittle of a fasting man without any incantation.[2344] Like Galen again, he omits all injurious medicaments and expresses the opinion that men who spread the knowledge of such drugs do more harm than actual poisoners who perhaps cause but a single death.[2345] Like Galen he announces his intention to omit all “abominable and detestable recipes and those which are prohibited by law,” mentioning as instances the eating of human flesh and drinking urine or menses muliebres.[2346] But also like Galen, he devotes several chapters to the virtues of human and animal excrement, especially recommending that of dogs after they have been fed on bones for two days.[2347] Somewhat similar to Galen’s recommendation to fill cavities in the teeth with roasted earthworms is the recipe of Aëtius for painless extraction of teeth “without iron.” The tooth must first be thoroughly scraped or the gum cut loose about it, and then sprinkled with the ashes of earthworms. “Therefore use this remedy with confidence, for it has already often[Pg 574] been celebrated as a mystery.”[2348] Such use of earthworms continued a feature of medieval dentistry.

Indeed, it was Galen himself, not someone from the east, who influenced Aëtius's most notably superstitious passages. I found this out by accident through my own experience. I had written about passages in Aëtius's Tetrabiblos before I read extensively in Galen’s works. When I eventually read Galen, I discovered that nearly every passage I had chosen to highlight Aëtius's superstitious nature was also found in Galen. For example, there’s the use of a green jasper as an amulet, hanging from a thread around the neck to touch the abdomen;[2339] the story of the harvesters who discovered a dead viper in their wine and, instead of killing the person suffering from elephantiasis, gave them the wine to drink;[2340] the tale of his teacher who made river crabs into ash in a red copper dish in August during the dog days on the eighteenth day of the moon, administering the powder daily for forty days to those bitten by rabid dogs.[2341] Such passages are generally repeated by Aëtius in a way that makes the reader think they are his own experiences, which warns us not to take ancient and medieval authors' claims of personal experience at face value, and it raises questions about whether Friend and Milward were too kind in seeing Aëtius as more than just a compiler. He also echoes some of Galen’s general observations about experience, such as the idea that the virtues of simple medicines are best discovered through experience, and stating that he will only discuss plants of which we have “information by experience.”[2342] He further replicates Galen’s mixed openness and skepticism regarding the basilisk, combining two passages into one;[2343] he also questions the effectiveness of incantations while recounting having seen a scorpion killed by just the spittle of a fasting person without any incantation.[2344] Like Galen, he ignores all harmful medications and believes that those who disseminate the knowledge of such drugs cause more harm than actual poisoners, who might only result in a single death.[2345] Like Galen, he declares his intention to leave out all “abominable and detestable recipes, and those prohibited by law,” citing examples such as eating human flesh and drinking urine or menses muliebres.[2346] But he also follows Galen in dedicating several chapters to the uses of human and animal excrement, particularly recommending dog feces after the dogs have been fed bones for two days.[2347] Similar to Galen’s suggestion to fill cavities in teeth with roasted earthworms, Aëtius offers a recipe for painless tooth extraction “without iron.” The tooth should first be thoroughly scraped or the gum loosened around it, then sprinkled with the ashes of earthworms. “So, use this remedy with assurance, for it has been celebrated as a mystery many times.”[2348] The use of earthworms in this way continued to be a part of medieval dentistry.

Occult science mixed with some scepticism.

Of my original selections from Aëtius very few are now left, and it is not unlikely that they too might be found somewhere in Galen’s works if one looked long enough. Aëtius asserts that drinking bitumen or asphalt in water will prevent hydrophobia from developing,[2349] and recommends for wounds inflicted by sea serpents an application of lead with a slice of the serpent itself.[2350] He takes the following prescription from Oribasius. To cure impotency anoint the big toe of the right foot with oil in which the pulverized ashes of a lizard have been mixed. To check the operation of this powerful stimulant one has merely to wash off the ointment from the toe.[2351] On the other hand, an instance of a sceptical tendency is the citation of the view of Posidonius that the so-called incubus is not a demon but a disease akin to epilepsy and insanity and marked by suffocation, loss of voice, heaviness, and immobility.[2352] It may also be noted that in discussing the medicinal virtues of the beaver’s testicles Aëtius does not include the story of its biting them off in order to escape its hunters.[2353] He does, however, cite several authorities, Piso, Menelbus, Simonides, Aristodemus, and Pherecydes for instances of the remarkable powers of certain animals in discovering the presence of poisons and preserving themselves and their owners from this danger: a partridge who made a great noise and fuss whenever any medicament or poison was being prepared in the house; a pet eagle who would attack anyone in the house who even plotted such a thing; a peacock who would go to the place where the dose had been prepared and raise[Pg 575] a clamor, or upset the receptacle containing the potion, or dig up a charm, if it had been buried underground; and a pet ichneumon and parrot who were endowed with very similar gifts.[2354] Aëtius shows a slight tendency in the direction of astrological medicine, giving a list of “times ordained by God” for the risings and settings of various stars, since these affect the air and winds, and since “the bodies of persons in good health, and much more so those of the sick, are altered according to the state of the air.”[2355] But on the whole, of our three authors, Aëtius seems to contain the smallest proportional amount of superstitious medicine and occult science.

Of my original selections from Aëtius, very few are left now, and it’s possible that they might also be found somewhere in Galen’s works if you look long enough. Aëtius claims that drinking bitumen or asphalt in water will prevent hydrophobia from developing, and he suggests that for wounds inflicted by sea serpents, you should apply lead along with a slice of the serpent itself. He takes the following prescription from Oribasius. To cure impotence, rub oil mixed with the pulverized ashes of a lizard on the big toe of the right foot. To neutralize this powerful stimulant, just wash the ointment off the toe. On the other hand, an example of skepticism is when Aëtius cites Posidonius' view that the so-called incubus is not a demon but a condition similar to epilepsy and insanity, characterized by suffocation, loss of voice, heaviness, and immobility. It’s also worth mentioning that in discussing the medicinal properties of beaver testicles, Aëtius doesn’t include the story of how beavers bite them off to escape hunters. However, he does reference several authorities—Piso, Menelbus, Simonides, Aristodemus, and Pherecydes—regarding the remarkable abilities of certain animals to detect poisons and protect themselves and their owners from danger: a partridge that created a fuss whenever any medicine or poison was being prepared in the house; a pet eagle that would attack anyone in the house who even thought about such things; a peacock that would go to where the dose was prepared, create a commotion, upset the container holding the potion, or dig up a charm buried underground; and a pet ichneumon and parrot that had very similar abilities. Aëtius shows a slight inclination towards astrological medicine, providing a list of “times ordained by God” for the rising and setting of various stars, since these impact the air and winds, and because “the bodies of healthy people, and even more so those of the sick, are affected according to the state of the air.” But overall, of our three authors, Aëtius appears to have the smallest proportion of superstitious medicine and occult science.

Alexander of Tralles.

Alexander of Tralles was the son of a physician and, according to the Byzantine historian, Agathias,[2356] the youngest of a group of five distinguished brothers, including Anthemius of Tralles, architect of St. Sophia at Constantinople, and Metrodorus the grammarian, whom Justinian summoned also to his court. Alexander had visited Italy, Gaul, and Spain as well as all parts of Greece[2357] before settling down in old age, when he could no longer engage in active medical practice,[2358] to the composition of his magnum opus in twelve books beginning with the head, eyes, and ears, and ending with gout and fever. Aside from his citation of Aëtius in the book on fevers, the latest writer named by Alexander is Jacobus Psychrestus, physician to Leo the Great about 474.[2359] It seems rather strange that Alexander says nothing of the pestilence of 542.[2360]

Alexander of Tralles was the son of a doctor and, according to the Byzantine historian Agathias, he was the youngest of five notable brothers, which included Anthemius of Tralles, the architect of St. Sophia in Constantinople, and Metrodorus the grammarian, whom Justinian also called to his court. Alexander traveled to Italy, Gaul, and Spain, as well as all parts of Greece, before settling down in his old age when he could no longer practice medicine actively. During this time, he composed his magnum opus, a twelve-book work starting with the head, eyes, and ears, and concluding with gout and fever. Besides mentioning Aëtius in the section on fevers, the most recent writer cited by Alexander is Jacobus Psychrestus, who was a physician to Leo the Great around 474. It seems quite odd that Alexander doesn't mention the plague of 542.

Originality of his work.

Alexander embodied the results of his own practice to a much greater extent than Oribasius and Aëtius. His book is more a record of his own medical observations and experiences than a compilation from past writings, a fact recognized[Pg 576] in the first edition which entitled it Practica, and “though he pays a due deference to the ancients, yet he is so far from putting an implicit faith in what they have advanced that he very often dissents from their doctrines.”[2361] Puschmann regarded him as the first doctor for a long time who had done any original thinking,[2362] and esteemed his pathology as highly as his therapeutics had been esteemed by his sixteenth century translator, Guinther of Andernach.[2363] Friend wrote of him in the early eighteenth century, “His method is extremely rational and just and after all our discoveries and improvements in physick scarce anything can be added to it.”[2364] Alexander seems to have been a practitioner of much resource and ingenuity, stopping hemorrhage of the nose by blowing down or fuzz up the nostrils through a hollow reed, and directing patients, a thousand years before the discovery of the Eustachian tube, to sneeze with mouth and nose stopped up in order to dislodge a foreign object from the ear.[2365] According to Milward, Alexander was the first Greek medical writer to mention rhubarb and tape-worms, and the first practitioner to open the jugular veins.[2366] Indeed, Alexander advises blood-letting a great deal, but Milward, whose age still approved of that practice, notes that he was “no ways addicted to those superstitious rules of opening this or that vein in particular cases which several of the ancients and some even among the moderns have been so very fond of.”[2367] Finally, Alexander’s concise and orderly method of presentation compares favorably with that of the classical medical writers.

Alexander embodied the results of his own practice to a much greater extent than Oribasius and Aëtius. His book is more a record of his own medical observations and experiences than a compilation from past writings, a fact recognized[Pg 576] in the first edition which titled it Practica, and “though he pays proper respect to the ancients, he doesn’t accept their teachings blindly and often disagrees with their doctrines.”[2361] Puschmann considered him the first doctor in a long time who engaged in original thinking,[2362] and valued his pathology as much as his therapeutics was valued by his sixteenth-century translator, Guinther of Andernach.[2363] Friend wrote about him in the early eighteenth century, “His method is extremely rational and fair, and after all our discoveries and improvements in medicine, there’s hardly anything that can be added to it.”[2364] Alexander appears to have been a practitioner of great resourcefulness and creativity, stopping nosebleeds by blowing air or padding the nostrils with a hollow reed, and instructing patients, a thousand years before the discovery of the Eustachian tube, to sneeze with their mouths and noses closed to remove a foreign object from the ear.[2365] According to Milward, Alexander was the first Greek medical writer to mention rhubarb and tapeworms and the first practitioner to open the jugular veins.[2366] Indeed, Alexander frequently recommended bloodletting, but Milward, whose era still endorsed that practice, notes that he was “not at all devoted to those superstitious rules about opening specific veins in particular cases, which several ancients and some moderns have been very fond of.”[2367] Finally, Alexander’s concise and systematic way of presenting information compares favorably with that of classical medical writers.

His medieval influence.

Alexander’s book traveled west, as its author had done, and was current in a free and abbreviated Latin translation from an early date.[2368] In fact, it was from the Latin version[Pg 577] that the work was translated into Hebrew and Syriac.[2369] Not only are Latin manuscripts of Alexander’s work as a whole or of extracts from it[2370] found from the ninth century on, while printed editions in Latin were numerous through the sixteenth century, but it was much used and cited by medieval writers such as Constantinus Africanus, Gariopontus,[2371] and Gilbert of England.[2372] It is not, however, always safe to assume that citations of Alexander[Pg 578] medicus, encountered in thirteenth century writers on the nature of things like Thomas of Cantimpré and Bartholomew of England, have reference to Alexander of Tralles, since a treatise on fevers is also ascribed to Alexander of Aphrodisias,[2373] while a work on the pulse and urine in fevers is thought to be by some medieval Alexander.[2374] And medical treatises are sometimes ascribed even to Alexander the Great of Macedon in the medieval manuscripts.[2375]

Alexander’s book traveled west, just like its author had, and it was available in a free and shortened Latin translation from an early date.[2368] In fact, the Hebrew and Syriac translations of the work were based on the Latin version[Pg 577].[2369] Latin manuscripts of Alexander’s work, either complete or in excerpts, can be found from the ninth century onward, and printed Latin editions were widespread through the sixteenth century. Additionally, medieval writers like Constantinus Africanus, Gariopontus,[2371] and Gilbert of England often referenced it.[2372] However, it's not always safe to assume that references to Alexander[Pg 578] medicus in the writings of thirteenth-century authors on natural philosophy, like Thomas of Cantimpré and Bartholomew of England, are about Alexander of Tralles, since a treatise on fevers is also credited to Alexander of Aphrodisias.[2373] Moreover, a work regarding pulse and urine during fevers is believed to be by another medieval Alexander.[2374] Sometimes, medical treatises are even attributed to Alexander the Great of Macedon in medieval manuscripts.[2375]

His personal experience.

We have already said that Alexander is no mere compiler but embodies the results of his own observation and experience during a long period of travel and medical practice. He frequently asserts that he has tested this or that for himself, or that the prescription in question has been “approved by long use and experience,”[2376] so that it is not surprising that we find the name Alexander still associated with medical “experiments” in manuscripts dating from the twelfth to fifteenth centuries.[2377] One of his cures for epilepsy he learned “from a rustic in Tuscany” (Thuscia?) but afterwards often employed with success himself.[2378] “It is a marvelous and exceptional medicine which you will communicate to no one,” concludes Alexander,[Pg 579] a rather surprising prohibition in view of the fact that it was a popular remedy to begin with. Folk-lore, however, is often supposed to be kept secret. Another general rule which holds true in Alexander’s case is that these empirical remedies are apt to be the most superstitious, and conversely that marvels are apt to be supported by solemn assurance of their experimental testing.

We’ve already mentioned that Alexander is not just a compiler but reflects the outcomes of his own observations and experiences from a long period of travel and medical practice. He often states that he has personally tested various remedies or that the prescription in question has been "approved by long use and experience,"[2376] so it's no surprise that we still see Alexander’s name linked with medical "experiments" in manuscripts from the twelfth to fifteenth centuries.[2377] He learned one of his cures for epilepsy "from a local in Tuscany" (Thuscia?), but later often used it successfully himself.[2378] "It is a marvelous and exceptional medicine which you must not share with anyone," Alexander concludes,[Pg 579] which is quite surprising considering it was already a popular remedy. However, folklore is often kept a secret. Another general rule that applies to Alexander’s case is that these empirical remedies tend to be the most superstitious, and conversely, that miraculous claims are often backed by solemn assurances of their experimental testing.

Extent of his superstition.

Two centuries ago Milward wrote of Alexander of Tralles, “But there is another objection to our author’s character which I cannot pretend to say much in defence of, and that is, his being addicted to charms and amulets. It is very surprising that one who discovers so much judgment in other matters should show so much weakness in this.”[2379] Alexander certainly devotes more space to superstition relatively to the length of his book than Aëtius does and also is hospitable to a wider range of more or less magical notions and practices. One notices, however, in his book that the treatment of certain diseases, such as epilepsy, colic, gout, and quartan fever, is more likely to involve magical and astrological procedure than that of other ailments such as earache and disorder of the spleen. This is also apt to be the case with other ancient and medieval medical works. But it is doubtful if the distinction can be sharply drawn that magic was resorted to more in those diseases which seemed most mysterious and incurable.

Two centuries ago, Milward wrote about Alexander of Tralles, “But there’s another issue with our author’s character that I can’t really defend, and that’s his belief in charms and amulets. It’s quite surprising that someone who shows so much insight in other areas would be so weak in this regard.”[2379] Alexander definitely spends more time on superstition relative to the length of his book than Aëtius does, and he also welcomes a broader range of magical ideas and practices. However, in his book, it’s noticeable that the treatment of certain diseases, like epilepsy, colic, gout, and quartan fever, tends to involve magical and astrological methods more than other issues, such as earaches and spleen disorders. This trend is also often seen in other ancient and medieval medical texts. However, it's uncertain whether we can clearly say that magic was more commonly used for diseases that seemed the most mysterious and hard to treat.

Physica.

The chief circumstance which renders some parts of Alexander’s work more superstitious than others is that he sometimes, after concluding the usual medical description of the disease and prescriptions for it, adds a list of what he calls physical or natural medicines (φυσικά), which are for the most part ligatures and suspensions but involve also the employment of incantations and engraved images or characters. Apparently he calls these remedies physica, because they supposedly act by some peculiar property or occult virtue of the substance which is bound on[Pg 580] or suspended and constitute a sort of natural magic. Alexander explains that “since some cannot observe a diet nor endure medicine, they compel us in the case of gout to employ physical remedies and ligatures; and in order that the well-trained physician may be instructed in every side of his art and able to help all sick persons in every way, I come to this subject.”[2380] This rather apologetic tone and the fact that he separates the physica from his other remedies show that he regards them as not quite on the same level with normal medical procedure. He goes on to say, however, that although there are many of these “physical” remedies which are efficacious, he will write down only those proved true by long use. In discussing fevers he again justifies the inclusion of physica in much the same way and says that those now mentioned were learned by him during a long-extended practice and experience.[2381] It is to be noted that some of these chapters on physical ligatures do not appear in the Latin version in three books, at least as it was printed in 1504.

The main reason some parts of Alexander’s work seem more superstitious than others is that he sometimes, after the usual medical description of the disease and its treatments, adds a list of what he calls physical or natural medicines (φυσικά). These mostly include ligatures and suspensions, but also involve the use of incantations and engraved images or symbols. He seems to refer to these remedies as physica because they are believed to work through some special property or hidden virtue of the substance that is bound on[Pg 580] or suspended, representing a kind of natural magic. Alexander explains that “since some cannot follow a diet or take medicine, we are forced, in the case of gout, to use physical remedies and ligatures; and so that a well-trained physician can understand all aspects of his craft and assist all patients in every way, I will address this topic.”[2380] This somewhat apologetic tone and the fact that he distinguishes the physica from his other remedies indicate that he sees them as not quite on par with standard medical practice. However, he continues to assert that while many of these “physical” remedies are effective, he will only record those that have been validated through long-term use. In discussing fevers, he again justifies the inclusion of physica in a similar manner, stating that those mentioned were learned through extensive practice and experience.[2381] It’s important to note that some of these chapters on physical ligatures do not appear in the Latin version in three books, at least as it was printed in 1504.

Occult virtue of substances applied externally.

One ligature which is “quite celebrated and approved by many” and which instantly lessens the pain of ulcers in the feet, makes use of muscles from a wild ass, a wild boar, and a stork, binding the right muscles about the patient’s right foot and the left muscles about the left foot. Some persons, however, do not intertwine the muscles of the stork with the others but put them separately into the skin of a sea-calf. Also they take care to bind the other muscles about the patient’s feet when the moon is in the west or in a sterile sign and approaching Saturn. Others bind on the tendons and claws of a vulture, or the feet of a hare who should remain alive.[2382] Alexander seems to regard the carcass of the ass as especially remedial in the case of epilepsy. In Spain he learned to use the skull of an ass reduced to ashes and he recommends employing the forehead and brain of an[Pg 581] ass as amulets.[2383] A suspension for quartan fever consists of a live beetle firmly fastened on the outside of a red linen cloth and hung about the neck. “This is true and often tested by experience,” Alexander assures us. Also excellent for this purpose are hairs from a goat’s cheek or a green lizard combined with clippings of the patient’s finger nails and toe nails. It is confirmed by the testimony of all “natural” physicians that the blood qui primus a virgine fuerit excretus is naturally hostile to quartan fever. Even if the girl is not chaste, the blood will be efficacious, if applied to the patient’s right hand or arm.[2384] Alexander knew a man who treated quartan fever by giving an undergarment of the patient to a woman in childbirth to wear, after which the patient wore it again and was cured “miraculously by some antipathy and occult influence.”[2385]

One remedy that is “well-known and approved by many” and which quickly reduces the pain of foot ulcers involves using muscles from a wild donkey, a wild boar, and a stork, tying the appropriate muscles around the patient’s right foot and the left muscles around the left foot. However, some people don’t mix the stork's muscles with the others but instead place them separately into the skin of a sea-calf. They also ensure to bind the other muscles around the patient’s feet when the moon is in the west or in an infertile sign and approaching Saturn. Others attach the tendons and claws of a vulture, or the feet of a living hare. Alexander seems to consider the donkey's carcass particularly helpful for epilepsy. In Spain, he learned to use the ashes of a donkey's skull, and he recommends using the forehead and brain of a donkey as protective charms. A treatment for quartan fever involves tying a live beetle securely onto a piece of red linen and wearing it around the neck. “This is true and often verified by experience,” Alexander tells us. Hairs from a goat’s cheek or a green lizard mixed with the patient’s fingernail and toenail clippings are also very effective for this purpose. It is confirmed by all "natural" doctors that blood that “first came from a virgin” is naturally resistant to quartan fever. Even if the girl isn’t chaste, the blood will still work, as long as it’s applied to the patient’s right hand or arm. Alexander knew a man who treated quartan fever by giving a woman in labor the patient’s underwear to wear, after which the patient wore it again and was “miraculously cured by some antipathy and hidden influence.”

Other things used as ligatures and in amulets.

The materials employed in Alexander’s therapeutics are sometimes those which we associate especially with magic arts, such as the hair and nail-parings already mentioned. Against epilepsy he employs nails from a cross or wrecked ship, or the blood-stained shirt of a gladiator or criminal who has been slain. The nails are bound to the patient’s arm; the shirt is burned and the patient given the ashes in wine seven times. The use of a nail from a cross is a method ascribed to Asclepiades. Other materials recommended by Alexander against gout and epilepsy include the herb night-shade, the stones magnet and aetites, blood of a swallow and urine of a boy, chameleons in varied forms, and the stones found in dissected swallows of which we have heard before and shall hear yet again. For Alexander these stones are black and white, but he states that they are not found in all young swallows but are said to appear only in the first-born, so that one often has to dissect a great many birds before one finds any. In these passages on Physica Alexander cites such authors of magical reputation[Pg 582] as Ostanes and Democritus, and tells how the latter suffered in youth from epilepsy until an oracle from Delphi instructed him to make use of the worms in goats’ brains. When a goat sneezes violently, some of these worms are expelled into his nostrils, whence they should be carefully extracted in a cloth without allowing them to touch the ground. Either one or three of them should then be worn about the epileptic’s neck wrapped in the thin skin of a black sheep.[2386]

The materials used in Alexander’s treatments sometimes include things we typically associate with magical practices, like the hair and nail clippings mentioned earlier. For epilepsy, he uses nails from a cross or from a shipwreck, or the bloodstained shirt of a gladiator or a criminal who has died. The nails are tied to the patient’s arm; the shirt is burned and the patient drinks the ashes in wine seven times. Using a nail from a cross is a method attributed to Asclepiades. Other materials Alexander suggests for gout and epilepsy include the herb nightshade, the stones magnet and aetites, swallow's blood, and a boy's urine, as well as chameleons of different forms, and stones found in dissected swallows that we've discussed before and will mention again. For Alexander, these stones are black and white, but he notes they aren't found in all young swallows, only in the first-born, which means one often has to dissect many birds to find any. In these sections on Physica, Alexander references authors with magical reputations, such as Ostanes and Democritus, and recounts how Democritus experienced epilepsy in his youth until an oracle from Delphi told him to use the worms found in goats' brains. When a goat sneezes vigorously, some of these worms get expelled into its nostrils, and they should be carefully removed with a cloth without letting them touch the ground. Then either one or three of them should be worn around the epileptic’s neck wrapped in the thin skin of a black sheep.[2386]

Astrology and sculpture of rings.

One passage has already been cited where astrological conditions were observed. Alexander sometimes prescribes the day of the month upon which things shall be done; an oil, for instance, is to be prepared on the fifth of March.[2387] In one place Alexander advises engraving upon a copper die a lion, a half-moon, a star, and the name of the beast. This is to be worn enclosed in a gold ring upon the fourth finger.[2388] That the lion may not stand for a sign of the zodiac is suggested by another instruction concerning an engraved stone to be set in a gold ring, and which is to be carved with a figure of Hercules suffocating a lion.[2389] For gout, however, one writes a verse of Homer on a copper plate when the moon is in Libra or Leo.[2390] For colic one inscribes upon an iron ring with an octangular circumference a charm beginning, “Flee, flee, colic.”[2391]

One section has already been referenced where astrological factors were noted. Alexander sometimes specifies the day of the month when actions should be taken; for example, an oil should be made on the fifth of March.[2387] In one instance, Alexander recommends carving a lion, a half-moon, a star, and the name of the creature onto a copper die. This should be worn in a gold ring on the fourth finger.[2388] The idea that the lion might not represent a zodiac sign is supported by another suggestion regarding an engraved stone to be set in a gold ring, which is to be engraved with a depiction of Hercules choking a lion.[2389] To treat gout, one should write a line from Homer on a copper plate when the moon is in Libra or Leo.[2390] For colic, one engraves a charm starting with, “Flee, flee, colic,” on an iron ring with an octagonal shape.[2391]

Incantations.

The employment of such incantations is expressly justified by Alexander, who maintains that even “the most divine” Galen, who once thought that incantations were of no avail, came after a long time and much experience to be convinced that they were of great efficacy. Alexander then quotes from a treatise which is not extant but which he asserts is a work by Galen entitled, On medical treatment in Homer.[2392] “So some think that incantations are like old-wives’ tales and so I thought for a long while, but in process[Pg 583] of time from perfectly plain instances I have become persuaded that there is force in them, for I have experienced their aid in the case of persons stung by scorpions. And no less in the case of bones stuck in the throat, which were straightway expelled by an incantation.” Alexander himself thereupon continues, “If such is the testimony of divinest Galen and many other ancients, what prevents us too from communicating to you those which we have learned from experience and which we have received from trustworthy friends?”

The use of these incantations is clearly backed by Alexander, who argues that even “the most divine” Galen, who once believed that incantations were useless, eventually came to recognize their significant effectiveness after much time and experience. Alexander cites a treatise that isn’t available anymore but claims it’s a work by Galen titled, On medical treatment in Homer.[2392] “So some people think that incantations are just old wives’ tales, and I believed that for a long time too. But over time, through clear examples, I’ve come to realize that there’s real strength in them. I've seen their benefits when helping people stung by scorpions. And just as effectively in cases of bones stuck in the throat, which were immediately dislodged by an incantation.” Alexander adds, “If this is the testimony of the most divine Galen and many other ancient scholars, what’s stopping us from sharing what we’ve learned from our experiences and received from reliable friends?”

Conjuration of an herb.

Both incantations and observance of astrological conditions play an important part in the instructions given by Alexander for digging and plucking with imprecations an herb to be used in the treatment of fluxions of hands or feet. “When the moon is in Aquarius under Pisces, dig before sunset, not touching the root. After digging with two fingers of the left hand, namely, the thumb and middle finger, say, ‘I address you, I address you, sacred herb. I summon you to-morrow to the house of Philia to stay the fluxion of feet and hands of this man or this woman. But I adjure you by the great name, Iaoth, Sabaoth, God who established the earth and fixed the sea abounding in fluid floods, who desiccated Lot’s wife and made her a statue of salt, receive the spirit of thy mother earth and its powers, and dry up this fluxion of feet or of hands of this man or woman.’ On the morrow ere sunrise, taking the bone of some dead animal, dig up the root, and holding it say, ‘I adjure you by the sacred names, Iaoth, Sabaoth, Adonai, Eloi,’ and sprinkle a pinch of salt on that root, saying, ‘As this salt is not increased, so be not the ailment of this man or of this woman.’ Then bind one end of the root to the patient, taking care that it is not moist, and suspend the rest of it over the fire for 360 days.”[2393] The mention of mother earth in this charm perhaps indicates an ultimate pagan origin, but the allusions to one God, and to incidents in the Old Testament, and the use of names of spirits show Jewish[Pg 584] or Christian influence, while the number 360 perhaps points to the Gnostics.

Both spells and attention to astrological conditions are key in the instructions provided by Alexander for digging up and gathering an herb, which is used to treat conditions affecting the hands or feet. “When the moon is in Aquarius under Pisces, dig before sunset, making sure not to touch the root. After digging with the thumb and middle finger of your left hand, say, ‘I call upon you, sacred herb. I summon you tomorrow to the house of Philia to stop the flux in the feet and hands of this man or this woman. But I charge you by the great name, Iaoth, Sabaoth, God who created the earth and set the sea teeming with flowing waters, who turned Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt, receive the spirit of your mother earth and its powers, and dry up this flux in the feet or hands of this man or woman.’ The next day before sunrise, take a bone from some dead animal, dig up the root, and while holding it, say, ‘I charge you by the sacred names, Iaoth, Sabaoth, Adonai, Eloi,’ and sprinkle a pinch of salt on that root, saying, ‘As this salt does not increase, so may the ailment of this man or woman not grow.’ Then tie one end of the root to the patient, ensuring it is dry, and hang the rest over the fire for 360 days.”[2393] The reference to mother earth in this charm may suggest a pagan origin, but the mentions of one God, events from the Old Testament, and the invocation of spirit names indicate Jewish or Christian influence, while the number 360 might have connections to the Gnostics.

Medieval version seems less superstitious than the original text.

While in conformity with the character of our investigation we have emphasized those passages in Alexander which are suggestive of magic and its methods, it should be said that many of the passages which we have cited are apparently[2394] not found in the medieval Latin versions which seem to omit many, although not all, of the chapters devoted to physical ligatures. Here then apparently is a case where the early medieval translator and adapter, instead of retaining and emphasizing the superstition of the past, has largely purged his text of it. But we have next to consider a Latin work, written apparently about the year 400 A. D. and known to us through two manuscripts of the ninth century, in which magic is far more rampant than in any version of Alexander of Tralles. Judging, however, from the small number of extant manuscripts, it was less influential through the medieval period than was Alexander’s book.

While aligning with the focus of our investigation, we have highlighted the sections in Alexander that hint at magic and its techniques. It's worth noting that many of the passages we've referenced are seemingly not present in the medieval Latin versions, which tend to leave out many—though not all—of the chapters related to physical binding. This seems to indicate that the early medieval translator and adapter chose to omit and downplay the superstitions of the past. Next, we need to look at a Latin work written around 400 A.D., known to us through two ninth-century manuscripts, where magic is much more prevalent than in any version of Alexander of Tralles. However, judging by the limited number of remaining manuscripts, it had less impact during the medieval era than Alexander’s book.

Marcellus: date and identity.

The De medicamentis opens in one of the two extant manuscripts with a dedicatory letter from “Marcellus, an illustrious man of the main office of Theodosius the Elder (?)” to his sons.[2395] This ascription is generally accepted as genuine, and Grimm believed this to be the same Marcellus as the physician who is gratefully mentioned, together with his sons, then mere infants, in the letters of Libanius, whose severe headaches Marcellus had alleviated, and as the Marcellus magister officiorum who is mentioned twice in the Theodosian Code under the year 395. The date of the De medicamentis may be further fixed from its including “a singular remedy for spleen which the patriarch Gamaliel recently revealed from proved experiments.” This[Pg 585] Gamaliel was Jewish patriarch at Constantinople from some time before 395 on to 415 or later. The question, however, of Marcellus’ authorship is complicated by the fact that he is twice cited in the work itself. One of these passages concerns an “oxyporium which Nero used for the digestion, which Marcellus the eminent physician revealed, which we too have tested in practice.”[2396] This sounds as if some later person had had a hand in the work as it has reached us, since Marcellus himself would scarcely have cited another person of the same name without some distinguishing epithet. Furthermore Aëtius cites a Marcellus for a passage which does not appear in the De medicamentis concerning wolfish or canine insanity, in which men imagine themselves to be wolves or dogs and act like them during the night in the month of February. But the De medicamentis as a whole is of the character promised by Marcellus in the introductory letter to his sons and so may be taken as his work.

The De medicamentis begins in one of the two surviving manuscripts with a letter from "Marcellus, a notable figure in the office of Theodosius the Elder (?)" to his sons.[2395] This attribution is generally accepted as authentic, and Grimm believed this to be the same Marcellus who is thankfully mentioned in letters from Libanius, where he helped with Libanius’s severe headaches, along with his sons, who were infants at the time. He is also referred to as Marcellus magister officiorum in the Theodosian Code, noted twice in the year 395. The date of the De medicamentis can be further established by its inclusion of “a unique remedy for the spleen that the patriarch Gamaliel recently revealed based on proven experiments.” This[Pg 585] Gamaliel was the Jewish patriarch in Constantinople from sometime before 395 until 415 or later. However, the question of Marcellus’s authorship is complicated by the fact that he is cited twice within the text itself. One of these references discusses an “oxyporium which Nero used for digestion, which was revealed by the renowned physician Marcellus, and which we too have tested in practice.”[2396] This suggests that a later individual may have contributed to the work as it has come down to us, since Marcellus himself wouldn’t likely reference another person with the same name without a distinguishing title. Additionally, Aëtius references a Marcellus for a passage not found in the De medicamentis regarding “wolfish” or canine madness, where people believe they are wolves or dogs and behave that way at night in February. Yet, the De medicamentis overall reflects the character promised by Marcellus in the introductory letter to his sons and can be considered his work.

“Marcellus Empiricus.”

The empiricism which we have already noted in Alexander of Tralles becomes most pronounced and most extreme in Marcellus, who indeed is often called Marcellus Empiricus on this account, and many of whose chapter and other headings[2397] terminate with these words descriptive of their contents, “various rational and natural remedies learned by experience” (remedia rationabilia et physica diversa de experimentis). In his preface, too, he speaks of his book not as De medicamentis but as De empiricis. He has, it is true, utilized “the old authorities of the medical art set down in the Latin language,” and likewise more recent writers and “the works of studious men” who were not especially trained in medicine; but he also includes what he has learned from hearsay or from personal experience, and “even remedies chanced upon by rustics and the populace and simples which they have tested by experience.” One prescription, which he characterizes as efficacious beyond human hope and incapable of being satisfactorily[Pg 586] lauded, he purchased from an old-wife of Africa who cured many at Rome by it, while the author himself has employed it in the cure of “several persons neither of humble rank nor unknown, whose names it is superfluous to mention.” This remedy is a concoction of such things as ashes of deer-horn, nine grains of white pepper, a little myrrh, and an African snail pounded shell and all while still alive in a mortar and then mixed with Falernian wine. Very detailed and explicit directions are given as to its preparation and administration, including an instruction to drink the dose facing towards the east.[2398] In another passage Marcellus says of certain compounds, “If there is any faith, both I myself have always found them by experience to be useful remedies and I can state that others are of the same mind; and I will add this, that other medicines can not compare to this liniment, which in similar cases several of my friends, whom I trust as I do myself, have affirmed on oath they have found by experience a remarkable cure.”[2399] Of an eye-remedy he remarks, “And that we may believe the author of this remedy from experience, he states that after he had been blind for twelve years it restored his sight within twenty days.”[2400] Marcellus also frequently couples marvelousness with experimentation, saying, “You will experience a wonderful remedy.” In one passage he uses the word “experiment” as a verb rather than as a noun, coining a new expression, experimentatum remedium,[2401] but his commonest expressions are de experimento or de experimentis, expertum, and experieris or experietur.[2402] Some of his “experiences”[Pg 587] really are purposive experiments, as where one discovers whether a tumor is scrofulous by applying an earthworm to it. Then put the worm on a leaf and if the tumor was scrofulous, the worm will turn into earth.[2403] The following experiment indicates that sufferers from spleen should drink in vinegar the root or dried leaves of the tamarisk. Give tamarisk to a pig to eat for nine days, then kill the animal and you will find it without a spleen.[2404]

The practical approach we’ve noticed in Alexander of Tralles is brought out even more strongly in Marcellus, who is often referred to as Marcellus Empiricus for this reason. Many of his chapter titles and other headings[2397] end with the phrase “various rational and natural remedies learned through experience” (remedia rationabilia et physica diversa de experimentis). In his preface, he describes his book not as De medicamentis but as De empiricis. While he does reference “the old authorities of medical art recorded in Latin,” and also more recent writers and “the works of dedicated individuals” who weren’t formally trained in medicine, he also includes what he learned from hearsay or personal experience, as well as “remedies discovered by everyday people and simple treatments they tested out.” One remedy, which he claims is remarkably effective and beyond what one could expect, he got from an elderly woman in Africa who cured many in Rome with it; he himself has used it to treat “several individuals who are not of low status nor unknown, whose names are unnecessary to mention.” This remedy includes ingredients like ashes from deer antlers, nine grains of white pepper, a bit of myrrh, and an African snail, ground up with its shell while still alive in a mortar and then mixed with Falernian wine. Detailed and clear instructions on how to prepare and take it are provided, including a note to drink the dose facing east.[2398] In another instance, Marcellus comments on certain mixtures, saying, “If there is any belief in these, both I and others have found them to be effective remedies through experience; I will also add that no other medicines compare to this liniment, which several trusted friends of mine, who I trust as much as myself, have sworn they found to be a remarkable cure through experience.”[2399] About an eye remedy, he says, “To support the author of this remedy from experience, he claims that after being blind for twelve years, it restored his sight in just twenty days.”[2400] Marcellus often connects marvels with experimentation, stating, “You will find a wonderful remedy.” In one instance, he uses the word “experiment” as a verb instead of a noun, creating the term experimentatum remedium,[2401] but his most common phrases are de experimento or de experimentis, expertum, and experieris or experietur.[2402] Some of his “experiences”[Pg 587] are indeed purposeful experiments, such as determining if a tumor is scrofulous by placing an earthworm on it. If you then set the worm on a leaf and the tumor is scrofulous, the worm will turn into earth.[2403] The following experiment suggests that those suffering from spleen conditions should drink vinegar with tamarisk root or dried leaves. Feed tamarisk to a pig for nine days, then kill the animal, and you will find it is without a spleen.[2404]

Superstitious character of his medicine.

As Marcellus appeals the most to experience, so he is by far the most given to superstition and folk-lore of our three authors. Practically his entire work is of the character of the passages devoted to Physica by Alexander of Tralles. He indulges in no medical theory, he does not diagnose diseases, nor prescribe a regimen of health in the form of bathing, diet, and exercise. His work is wholly composed of medicaments and for the most part empirical ones. Besides the elaborate compounds which were so frequent in Aëtius and Alexander, he is extremely addicted to absurd rigmarole and all sorts of superstitious practices in the application or administration of medicinal simples. His pharmacy includes not only herbs and gems, to which he attributes occult virtue and which he sometimes directs to have engraven with characters and figures, such as SSS or a dragon surrounded with seven rays[2405]—the emblem of the Agathodaemon, but also all kinds of animals, reptiles, and parts of the same, after the fashion of Pliny’s medicine. He is constantly calling into requisition such things as the ashes of a mole, the blood of a bat, the brains of a mouse, the gall of a hyena, the hoofs of a live ass, the liver of a wolf, woman’s milk, sea-hares, a white spider with very long legs, and centipedes or multipedes, especially the variety that rolls up into a ball when touched. But it is scarcely feasible to separate Marcellus’ materials from his procedure, so we will begin to consider them together in some prescriptions where animals play the leading part.

As Marcellus relies heavily on experience, he is also by far the most superstitious and interested in folklore among our three authors. Essentially, his entire work resembles the sections on Physica by Alexander of Tralles. He doesn't engage in medical theories, doesn't diagnose diseases, and doesn't prescribe health regimens involving bathing, diet, or exercise. His work consists entirely of remedies, mostly empirical ones. In addition to the complex mixtures that were common in Aëtius and Alexander, he is very fond of ridiculous nonsense and various superstitious practices when using or administering herbal remedies. His pharmacy includes not just herbs and gems, which he believes have magical properties and sometimes instructs to be engraved with symbols and figures like SSS or a dragon surrounded by seven rays[2405]—the emblem of the Agathodaemon, but also all kinds of animals, reptiles, and their parts, similar to Pliny’s medicines. He frequently references items like the ashes of a mole, the blood of a bat, the brains of a mouse, the gall of a hyena, the hoofs of a live donkey, the liver of a wolf, woman’s milk, sea hares, a white spider with very long legs, and centipedes or millipedes, especially those that curl up into a ball when touched. However, it’s nearly impossible to separate Marcellus’ ingredients from his methods, so we will start looking at them together in some prescriptions where animals are the main focus.

[Pg 588]

[Pg 588]

Preparation of goat’s blood.

For those suffering from stone is recommended a remedy prepared in the following fashion. In August shut up in a dry place for three days a goat, preferably a wild one who is one year old, and feed him on nothing but laurel and give him no water to drink; finally on the third day, which should fall on a Thursday or Sunday, kill him. Both the person who kills the goat and the patient should be chaste and pure. Cut the goat’s throat and collect his blood—it is best if the blood is collected by naked boys—and burn it to an ash in an earthen pot. After combining it with various herbs and drugs, there are further directions to follow as to how it may best be administered to the patient. Marcellus, by the way, affirms that adamant can be broken only by goat’s blood.[2406]

For those dealing with kidney stones, a remedy is recommended that is prepared as follows. In August, keep a goat, preferably a wild one that's one year old, in a dry place for three days, feeding it only laurel and giving it no water. On the third day, which should be a Thursday or Sunday, kill the goat. Both the person who kills the goat and the patient should remain chaste and pure. Cut the goat’s throat and collect its blood—it’s best if the blood is collected by naked boys—and burn it to ash in an earthen pot. After mixing it with various herbs and medicines, there are additional instructions on how to best administer it to the patient. By the way, Marcellus claims that adamant can only be broken by goat’s blood.[2406]

A rabbit’s foot.

The following prescription involves the familiar superstition that a rabbit’s foot is lucky: “Cut off the foot of a live rabbit and take hairs from under its belly and let it go. Of those hairs or wool make a strong thread and with it bind the rabbit’s foot to the body of the patient and you will find a marvelous remedy. But the remedy will be even more efficacious, so that it is hardly credible, if by chance you find that bone, namely, the rabbit’s ankle-bone, in the dung of a wolf, which you should guard so that it neither touches the earth nor is touched by woman. Nor should any woman touch that thread made of the rabbit’s wool.” Marcellus further recommends that in releasing the rabbit after taking its wool you should say, “Flee, flee, little rabbit, and take the pain away with you.”[2407]

The following prescription involves the well-known superstition that a rabbit’s foot is lucky: “Cut off the foot of a live rabbit and take hairs from under its belly, then let it go. From those hairs or wool, make a strong thread and use it to bind the rabbit’s foot to the patient’s body, and you will find a remarkable remedy. But the remedy will be even more effective—almost unbelievable—if you happen to find that bone, specifically the rabbit’s ankle bone, in a wolf’s dung, which you should keep safe so that it doesn’t touch the ground or come into contact with a woman. Additionally, no woman should touch that thread made from the rabbit’s wool.” Marcellus further advises that when releasing the rabbit after taking its wool, you should say, “Flee, flee, little rabbit, and take the pain away with you.”[2407]

Magic transfer of disease.

Of such magical transfer of disease to other animals or objects there are a number of examples. Toothache may be stopped by standing on the ground under the open sky and spitting in a frog’s mouth and asking it to take the toothache away with it and then releasing it.[2408] Even consumptives who seem certain to die and who labor continually with an unbearable cough, may be cured by giving them[Pg 589] to drink for three days the saliva or foam of a horse. “You will indeed cure the patient without delay, but the horse will die suddenly.”[2409] Splenetic persons are benefited by imposing any one of three kinds of fish upon the spleen and then replacing the fish alive in the sea.[2410] Warts may be got rid of by rubbing them with something the moment you see a star falling in the sky; but if you rub them with your bare hand, you will simply transfer them to it.[2411] Another superstition connected with falling stars which Marcellus records is that one will be free from sore eyes for as many years as he can count numbers while a star is falling.[2412] The first time you hear or see a swallow, hasten silently to a spring or well and anoint your eyes with the water and pray God that you may not have sore eyes that year, and the swallows will bear away all pain from your eyes.[2413] With slight variations the same procedure may be employed to prevent toothache. In this case you fill your mouth with water, rub your teeth with the middle fingers of both hands, and say, “Swallow, I say to you, as this will not again be in my beak, so may my teeth not ache all year long.”[2414] Marcellus advises anyone whose nose is stuffed up to blow it on a piece of parchment, and, folding this up like a letter, cast it into the public way,[2415]—which would very likely spread the germs, if not take away the cold.

There are many examples of how illness can be magically transferred to other animals or objects. You can stop a toothache by standing on the ground under the open sky, spitting into a frog's mouth, and asking it to take the toothache away with it before releasing it.[2408] Even people suffering from consumption, who appear to be on the brink of death and are constantly plagued by a terrible cough, might be cured by drinking the saliva or foam of a horse for three days. "You will indeed cure the patient quickly, but the horse will die suddenly."[2409] Those who are despondent may find relief by putting one of three types of fish on their spleen and then returning the live fish to the sea.[2410] Warts can be removed by rubbing them with something the moment a star falls from the sky; however, if you use your bare hand, you will just transfer them to that hand.[2411] Another superstition related to falling stars, noted by Marcellus, is that you will be free from sore eyes for as many years as the number of counts you make while a star is falling.[2412] The first time you hear or see a swallow, quietly rush to a spring or well, anoint your eyes with the water, and pray to God for no sore eyes that year, and the swallows will take all the pain away from your eyes.[2413] With minor adjustments, the same method can be used to prevent toothaches. In this case, you fill your mouth with water, rub your teeth with the middle fingers of both hands, and say, “Swallow, I tell you, as this will not be in my beak again, may my teeth not ache all year long.”[2414] Marcellus advises anyone with a stuffy nose to blow it onto a piece of parchment and, folding it like a letter, throw it into the public path,[2415]—which would likely spread germs rather than relieve the cold.

Pliny and Marcellus compared on green lizards as eye cures.

In his preface Marcellus refers to Pliny as one of his authorities and many of his quaint animal remedies will be found substantially duplicated in the Natural History. Both, for example, state that one can stop one’s nose from running by kissing a mule.[2416] Marcellus, however, adds much from other sources or of his own. This may be illustrated by comparing their accounts of the use of lizards to cure eye diseases.[2417] Marcellus omits the following portion of Pliny’s account: “Some shut up a green lizard in a new earthen pot,[Pg 590] and they mark the little stones called cinaedia, which are bound on for tumors of the groin, with nine signs and take out one daily. On the ninth day they let the lizard go, and keep the pebbles for pains of the eyes.” Pliny next proceeds: “Others put earth under a green lizard that has been blinded and shut it up in a glass vase with rings of solid iron or gold. When through the glass the lizard is seen to have recovered its sight, it is released and the rings are used for sore eyes.” This recipe is in Marcellus who, however, words it differently and adds that the lizard must be blinded with a copper needle, that the rings may be of silver, electrum, or copper, that the vase must be carefully sealed and opened on the fifth or seventh day following, and that one should not only wear the rings afterwards on one’s fingers but also frequently apply them to one’s eyes and strengthen the sight by looking through them. He further cautions to leave the vase in a clean grassy spot, to collect the rings only after the lizard has departed, to catch the lizard in the first place on a Thursday in September between the nineteenth and twenty-fifth day of the moon, and to have the operation performed by a very pure and chaste man. Marcellus also states that an amulet made either of the eyes of the said lizard enclosed in a lead bull or gold coin, or of its blood caught on clean wool and wrapped in purple cloth will effectually prevent eye diseases. Meanwhile Pliny for his part has gone on to tell how efficacious the ashes of green lizards are.

In his preface, Marcellus mentions Pliny as one of his sources, and many of his unusual animal remedies can be found largely repeated in the Natural History. For instance, both say that you can stop a runny nose by kissing a mule. [2416] However, Marcellus adds a lot from other sources or his own observations. This can be seen when comparing their descriptions of using lizards to treat eye diseases. [2417] Marcellus leaves out part of Pliny’s description: “Some shut a green lizard in a new earthen pot, [Pg 590] and they mark the small stones called cinaedia, which are used for tumors in the groin, with nine signs and take one out each day. On the ninth day, they release the lizard and keep the stones for eye pain.” Pliny then goes on to say: “Others place soil under a blinded green lizard and confine it in a glass jar with solid iron or gold rings. When the lizard is seen to have regained its sight through the glass, it is released, and the rings are used for sore eyes.” This recipe is in Marcellus, who, however, phrases it differently and adds that the lizard must be blinded with a copper needle, that the rings can be made of silver, electrum, or copper, that the jar must be securely sealed and opened on the fifth or seventh day afterward, and that one should not only wear the rings on their fingers but also often apply them to their eyes and improve their vision by looking through them. He further advises leaving the jar in a clean grassy area, collecting the rings only after the lizard has left, catching the lizard on a Thursday in September between the nineteenth and twenty-fifth days of the moon, and having the procedure done by a very pure and chaste man. Marcellus also says that an amulet made from either the lizard’s eyes enclosed in a lead bull or gold coin, or its blood caught on clean wool and wrapped in purple cloth will effectively prevent eye diseases. Meanwhile, Pliny continues by explaining how effective green lizard ashes are.

More lizardry.

Marcellus employs green lizards in other connections which are not paralleled in Pliny. To stay colic one binds about the patient three times with an incantation a string with which a copper needle has been threaded and drawn through a lizard’s eyes, after which the reptile is released at the same point where it was captured.[2418] In another passage Marcellus recommends the drawing by a silver needle of threads of nine different colors other than black or white through the eyes of a new-born puppy before they open and[Pg 591] ita ut per anum eius exeant, after which the puppy is to be thrown into the river.[2419] But to return to our lizards. For those suffering from liver complaint the liver of a lizard is to be extracted with the point of a reed and bound in purple or black cloth to the patient’s right side or suspended from his arm, while the lizard is to be dismissed alive with these words, “Lo, I send you away alive; see to it that no one whom I touch henceforth has liver complaint.”[2420] To insure a wife’s fidelity one touches her with the tip of a lizard’s tail which has been cut off by the left hand.[2421] Here again the lizard is released but apparently is not expected to survive for long, since one is instructed to “hold the tail shut in the palm of the same hand until it dies.” In a fourth example the lizard is neither mutilated nor released but hung in the doorway of a splenetic’s bedroom where it will touch his head and left hand as he comes and goes.[2422]

Marcellus uses green lizards in ways that Pliny doesn't mention. To treat colic, you wrap a string, threaded with a copper needle and pulled through a lizard's eyes, around the patient three times while chanting an incantation. Then, you release the lizard at the same spot where you found it.[2418] In another part, Marcellus suggests using a silver needle to draw threads of nine different colors (except for black or white) through the eyes of a newborn puppy before they open and[Pg 591] so that they exit through its rear, after which the puppy should be thrown into the river.[2419] But back to our lizards. For someone with liver issues, you should extract the liver of a lizard using the tip of a reed and wrap it in purple or black cloth, attaching it to the patient's right side or hanging it from their arm, while you let the lizard go with the words, "Look, I send you away alive; make sure that no one I touch from now on has liver issues."[2420] To ensure a wife's loyalty, you touch her with the end of a lizard's tail that you cut off with your left hand.[2421] Again, you release the lizard, but it seems that it's not expected to live long, as you're told to "keep the tail held tightly in your palm until it dies." In a fourth case, the lizard is neither harmed nor released but is hung in the doorway of a person with a bad temperament, so it brushes against their head and left hand as they enter and exit.[2422]

Use of stones and an herb.

One or two other prescriptions may be added where the procedure is connected with herbs or stones rather than with animals. On entering a city one is advised to pick up some of the pebbles lying in the road before the city gate, stating that they are being collected for headache. Then bind one of them on the head and throw the others behind your back without looking around.[2423] A certain herb must be gathered on Thursday in a waning moon. When it is administered in drink, the recipient must take it standing and facing the east. He receives the cup from the right hand and then, in order not to look back, returns it to the left to him who gave it. Only these two persons should touch the drink.[2424]

One or two other remedies might be added when the method involves herbs or stones instead of animals. When entering a city, it's suggested to pick up some pebbles from the road before the city gate, claiming they’re being gathered for headaches. Then, tie one of them to your head and toss the others behind you without looking back. A specific herb should be collected on a Thursday during a waning moon. When given to someone in a drink, the person must stand and face east. They receive the cup with their right hand and, to avoid looking back, return it with their left hand to the person who gave it. Only those two people should handle the drink.

Right and left number.

Right and left, as just illustrated, are much observed in Marcellus’ medicine. When a tooth aches on the left side of the mouth, a hot cooked dried bean is applied to the right elbow for three days, a process which is reversed[Pg 592] if the tooth is on the right side.[2425] The following exercise recommended for a stiff neck would seem to stand more chance of success than most of Marcellus’ prescriptions. While fasting the patient should spit on his right hand and rub his right thigh, and then do the same with his left hand and thigh. Thrice repeated this is warranted to work an immediate cure.[2426] A ring worn on the middle finger of the left hand is said to stop hiccough.[2427] The power of the planets or of mere number is indicated in the advice, given several times, to make seven knots in a string.[2428] Once instructions are given to make as many knots as there are letters in the patient’s name.[2429]

Right and left, as just shown, are closely observed in Marcellus’ medicine. When a tooth hurts on the left side of the mouth, a hot cooked dried bean is placed on the right elbow for three days; this process is reversed if the tooth is on the right side.[Pg 592] The following exercise recommended for a stiff neck seems to have a better chance of success than most of Marcellus’ prescriptions. While fasting, the patient should spit on their right hand and rub their right thigh, and then do the same with their left hand and thigh. Repeating this three times is said to guarantee an immediate cure.<[2426]> Wearing a ring on the middle finger of the left hand is said to stop hiccups.<[2427]> The influence of the planets or simply the significance of numbers is noted in the advice, frequently given, to make seven knots in a string.<[2428]> Once, there are instructions to make as many knots as there are letters in the patient’s name.<[2429]>

Incantations and characters.

Incantations and characters, as has already been incidentally illustrated, abound in Marcellus’ pages. Some are in Greek, some in Latin, some perhaps in Celtic; many, as we have seen, are coherent statements, commands, or requests; many others are to all appearance a jargon of meaningless words, like the jingle, Argidam, margidam, sturgidam,[2430] which is to be repeated seven times on Tuesday and Thursday in a waning moon to cure toothache. Marcellus well calls one of these carmen idioticum.[2431] For stomach and intestinal troubles he recommends pressing the abdomen with the left thumb and saying, “Adam, bedam, alam, betur, alem, botum.” This is to be repeated nine times, then one touches the earth with the same thumb and spits, then says the charm nine more times, and again for a third series of nine, touching the ground and spitting nine times also. Alabanda, alabandi, alambo is another incantation, variously repeated thrice with hands clasped above and below the abdomen. Yet another consists in rubbing the abdomen with the left thumb and two little fingers and saying, “A tree stood in the middle of the sea and there hung an urn full of human intestines; three virgins went[Pg 593] around it, two make it fast, one revolves it.” As you repeat this thrice, you touch the ground thrice and spit, but if the charm is for veterinary purposes, for the words “human intestines” should be substituted “the intestines of mules” or horses or asses as the case may be.[2432] The following is a specimen of the characters prescribed by Marcellus:[2433]

Incantations and symbols, as we've already touched on, are abundant in Marcellus’ writings. Some are in Greek, some in Latin, and some maybe in Celtic; many, as we've observed, are clear statements, commands, or requests; while many others seem like a mix of nonsensical words, like the jingle, Argidam, margidam, sturgidam,[2430] which is supposed to be repeated seven times on Tuesday and Thursday during a waning moon to relieve toothache. Marcellus wisely refers to one of these as carmen idioticum.[2431] For stomach and intestinal issues, he advises pressing the abdomen with the left thumb and saying, “Adam, bedam, alam, betur, alem, botum.” This should be repeated nine times, then touch the ground with the same thumb and spit, followed by saying the charm nine more times, and again for a third round of nine, also touching the ground and spitting nine times. Alabanda, alabandi, alambo is another incantation, repeated three times with hands clasped above and below the abdomen. Another one involves rubbing the abdomen with the left thumb and two little fingers while saying, “A tree stood in the middle of the sea, and there hung an urn full of human intestines; three virgins went[Pg 593] around it, two secure it, one rotates it.” As you recite this three times, touch the ground three times and spit, but if the charm is for animals, replace “human intestines” with “the intestines of mules,” or horses or donkeys as needed.[2432] Here’s an example of the symbols recommended by Marcellus:[2433]

ΛΨΜΘΚΙΑ
ΛΨΜΘΚΙΑ
ΛΨΜΘΚΙΑ

ΛΨΜΘΚΙΑ
ΛΨΜΘΚΙΑ
ΛΨΜΘΚΙΑ

The art of medicine survives the barbarian invasions.

It is perhaps worth while to point out in concluding this chapter that apparently at no time during the period of barbarian invasions and early medieval centuries did medical practice or literature cease entirely in the west. We have seen that there is reason to suspect that portions of the work ascribed to Marcellus may be contributions of the centuries following him, and that there were early medieval Latin translations of the works of Oribasius and Alexander of Tralles. Furthermore, the laws of the German kingdoms, the allusions of contemporary chroniclers and men of letters, the advice of Gregory the Great to a sick archbishop to seek medical assistance, and many other bits of evidence[2434] show that physicians were fairly numerous and in good repute, and that medieval Christians at no time depended entirely upon the healing virtues of relics of the saints or other miraculous powers credited to the church or divine answer to prayer.

It’s worth noting in closing this chapter that apparently at no point during the times of barbarian invasions and the early medieval period did medical practice or literature completely stop in the west. We’ve seen that there’s reason to believe that some parts of the work attributed to Marcellus may actually be contributions from the following centuries, and that there were early medieval Latin translations of the works of Oribasius and Alexander of Tralles. Additionally, the laws of the German kingdoms, references from contemporary chroniclers and writers, Gregory the Great’s advice to a sick archbishop to seek medical help, and many other pieces of evidence show that doctors were fairly common and well-regarded, and that medieval Christians never fully relied on the healing powers of saints' relics or other miraculous abilities believed to be granted by the church or divine answers to prayer.


[Pg 594]

[Pg 594]

CHAPTER XXVI
PSEUDO-LITERATURE IN NATURAL SCIENCE OF THE EARLY MIDDLE AGES

General character—Medicine of PlinyHerbarium of Apuleius—Specimens of its occult science—A “Precantation of all herbs”—Other treatises accompanying the HerbariumCosmography of Aethicus—Its medieval influence—Character of the work—Its attitude to marvels—The Geoponica—Magic and astrology therein—Dioscorides—Textual history of the De materia medica—Alterations made in the Greek text—Dioscorides little known to Latins before the middle ages—Partial versions in Latin—De herbis femininis—The fuller Latin versions—Peter of Abano’s account of the medieval versions—Pseudo-Dioscorides on stones—Conclusions from the textual history of Dioscorides—Macer on herbs; its great currency—Problem of date and author—Virtues ascribed to herbs—Experiments of Macer.

General character—Medicine of PlinyHerbarium of Apuleius—Specimens of its hidden knowledge—A “Prayer of all herbs”—Other writings accompanying the HerbariumCosmography of Aethicus—Its impact in the medieval period—Character of the work—Its perspective on wonders—The Geoponica—Magic and astrology included—Dioscorides—Textual history of the De materia medica—Changes made in the Greek text—Dioscorides not well-known to Latins before the Middle Ages—Partial Latin versions—De herbis femininis—The more complete Latin versions—Peter of Abano’s summary of the medieval versions—Pseudo-Dioscorides on stones—Conclusions drawn from the textual history of Dioscorides—Macer on herbs; its wide usage—Issues with date and authorship—Virtues attributed to herbs—Experiments of Macer.

General character.

A class of writings which seems to have been very characteristic of the waning culture of the declining Roman Empire and the scanty erudition of the early medieval period were the brief epitomes of, or disorderly collections of fragments from, the writers of the classical period. Such works often passed under the name of some famous author of the previous period and sometimes are more or less based upon his writings. Most of the works in the field of natural science are of such derivative or pseudo-authorship: the Medicine of the Pseudo-Pliny, the Herbarium of the Pseudo-Apuleius, the geographical work ascribed to Aethicus, the Geoponica, the treatises on herbs attributed to Macer and Dioscorides. Indeed, the whole textual history of the latter’s De materia medica is so full of vicissitudes and uncertainties that I have postponed its treatment until this chapter. The names of the actual compilers or abbreviators of these works are usually unknown and it is also usually impossible to date them with any approach to accuracy.[Pg 595] Roughly speaking of them as a whole, they may be said to have gradually taken on their present form at almost any time between the third and tenth centuries. In the case of these works of natural science at least, it is not quite fair to class them all as brief epitomes or disorderly collections. In some we see an obvious attempt to rearrange the old materials in a form more convenient for present use. In others to the stage of abbreviation from ancient authors has succeeded another stage of later additions from other sources.

A group of writings that clearly represents the fading culture of the late Roman Empire and the limited scholarship of the early medieval period are the short summaries or messy collections of fragments from classical authors. These works often took on the name of a well-known writer from the earlier era and were sometimes loosely based on their writings. Many of the works in natural science fall into this category of derivative or pseudo-authorship: the Medicine of Pseudo-Pliny, the Herbarium of Pseudo-Apuleius, the geographical writings attributed to Aethicus, the Geoponica, and the treatises on herbs credited to Macer and Dioscorides. In fact, the entire textual history of Dioscorides’ De materia medica is filled with twists and uncertainties, which is why I've delayed discussing it until this chapter. The names of the actual compilers or summarizers of these works are often unknown, and it’s usually impossible to date them with any accuracy.[Pg 595] Generally speaking, these works took on their current form anytime between the third and tenth centuries. With regard to natural science, it’s not entirely fair to categorize all of them as just short summaries or messy collections. In some, there is a clear effort to reorganize the old material in a way that is more useful today. In others, the process of shortening ancient texts has been followed by a phase of new additions from different sources.

Medicine of Pliny.

The Medicina, or Art of Medicine, of the Pseudo-Pliny[2435] consists of three books in which medical passages, drawn from Pliny’s Natural History, are rearranged according to diseases instead of, as in the genuine Pliny, by simples. The first two books deal with diseases of the human body in descending order from top to toe and from headache to gout, a favorite arrangement throughout the course of medieval medicine. The last book then considers afflictions which are not necessarily connected with any particular part of the body, such as wounds and fevers. Thus this compilation attests Pliny’s medieval influence and the practical use made of his work, while it of course continues much of his medical magic and superstition. The compiler’s rearrangement is an essential one, if the medical recommendations of the Natural History were to be made available for ready reference. In this case, therefore, the epitomizer has rather improved upon than disordered the arrangement of the original. This compilation is believed to have been used by Marcellus Empiricus, and a Letter of Plinius Secundus to his friends about medicine, which Marcellus gives along with other medical epistles, is thought to be the preface of the abbreviator, who in that case depicts himself as composing his volume so that his friends and himself when traveling may avoid the payment of exorbitant fees asked by strange physicians. If we can regard everything in the[Pg 596] work of Marcellus as we have it as having been written by 400, the Medicine of Pliny must have been written during the declining Roman Empire. The manuscripts used by Rose in his edition were of the tenth and twelfth centuries. There is also a later version of the Medicine of Pliny in five books,[2436] of which the two last are entirely new additions, the fifth being an extract from the old Latin translation of Alexander of Tralles. And in the first three books the earlier Pseudo-Pliny has been worked over with additions. The Pseudo-Pliny is also embodied with alterations and accompanied by some prayers and incantations in a tenth century manuscript at St. Gall.[2437]

The Medicina, or Art of Medicine, by Pseudo-Pliny consists of three books that rearrange medical sections taken from Pliny’s Natural History, focusing on diseases instead of the original's organization by simple substances. The first two books cover human body diseases in a descending order from head to toe, starting with headaches and ending with gout, a common structure in medieval medicine. The final book addresses conditions not tied to a specific body part, like wounds and fevers. This compilation highlights Pliny’s impact during medieval times and the practical application of his work, while still including much of his medical magic and superstition. The compiler’s reorganization is vital for making the medical advice in the Natural History easily accessible. In this sense, the summarizer actually enhanced rather than disrupted the original arrangement. It's believed that this compilation was used by Marcellus Empiricus, and a Letter of Plinius Secundus to his friends about medicine, which Marcellus includes with other medical letters, is thought to be the preface of the summarizer, who aimed to create this volume so he and his friends could avoid high fees from unfamiliar doctors while traveling. If we consider everything in the work of Marcellus, as we have it, to have been written around 400 AD, then the Medicine of Pliny must have been composed during the decline of the Roman Empire. The manuscripts used by Rose in his edition were from the tenth and twelfth centuries. There’s also a later version of the Medicine of Pliny in five books, where the last two are completely new additions, with the fifth being an excerpt from the old Latin translation of Alexander of Tralles. In the first three books, the earlier Pseudo-Pliny has been revised with additional content. The Pseudo-Pliny is also included with changes and accompanied by some prayers and incantations in a tenth-century manuscript at St. Gall.

The Herbarium of Apuleius.

Several works besides the six commonly regarded as genuine[2438] were attributed to Apuleius in the middle ages, grammatical[2439] and rhetorical[2440] treatises, the Hermetic Asclepius,[2441] a treatise on physiognomy,[2442] and the very widespread Sphere of Life and Death, of which we shall treat in another chapter.[2443] We shall now consider the Herbarium of Apuleius,[2444] the one of his spurious works, which has most to do with the world of nature, and, with the exception of the brief Sphere, the one which occurs most often in the manuscripts. The Herbarium was first printed about 1480 by the physician of Pope Sixtus IV[Pg 597] from a manuscript at Monte Cassino, and then, after various other editions, was included in 1547 in the collection of ancient Latin medical writers issued by the Aldine Press. We are told, however, that with the close of the fifteenth century the Apuleius began to be superseded by German herbals. The medieval manuscripts of the Herbarium are often noteworthy for their illuminations of the herbs in vivid colors. Those of the mandragora root are especially interesting, showing it as a man standing on the back of a dog or a human form with leaves growing on the head and led by a dog chained to his waist.[2445] The oldest manuscripts are of the sixth century, and there are some in Anglo-Saxon, but as one would expect, the work underwent many additions and alterations, and different manuscripts of it vary considerably. The author is usually spoken of as Apuleius the Platonist and is sometimes said to have received his work from the centaur Chiron, the master of Achilles, and from Esculapius.[2446]

Several works, in addition to the six generally recognized as genuine [2438], were attributed to Apuleius during the Middle Ages, including grammatical [2439] and rhetorical [2440] treatises, the Hermetic Asclepius, [2441] a treatise on physiognomy [2442], and the very popular Sphere of Life and Death, which we will discuss in another chapter [2443]. Now, let’s consider the Herbarium of Apuleius, [2444] one of his spurious works, which is most related to the natural world, and, excluding the brief Sphere, the one that appears most frequently in the manuscripts. The Herbarium was first printed around 1480 by the physician of Pope Sixtus IV[Pg 597] from a manuscript at Monte Cassino, and then, after several other editions, was included in 1547 in the collection of ancient Latin medical writers published by the Aldine Press. However, we are told that by the end of the fifteenth century, Apuleius began to be replaced by German herbals. The medieval manuscripts of the Herbarium are often notable for their illustrations of the herbs in vibrant colors. The depictions of the mandragora root are especially interesting, showing it as a man standing on the back of a dog or a human figure with leaves growing from the head, led by a dog chained to his waist [2445]. The oldest manuscripts date back to the sixth century, and some are in Anglo-Saxon, but as expected, the work underwent many additions and changes, and different manuscripts vary significantly. The author is usually referred to as Apuleius the Platonist and is sometimes said to have received his work from the centaur Chiron, the mentor of Achilles, and from Esculapius [2446].

Specimens of its occult science.

In the Herbarium the plants are listed and described and their virtues, especially medicinal, stated. Usually the names for each herb in several languages or regions are given—Latin, Greek, Punic, Biblical (by the Prophets),[Pg 598] Egyptian, Syrian, Gallic, Dacian, Spanish, Phrygian, Tuscan. By no means all of these are listed in every case, however. The virtues of the herbs often operate in an occult manner, or procedure suggestive of magic is involved in collecting or applying them. Often diseases are cured merely by holding an herb in the hand, wearing it with a string about the neck, or placing it behind one ear, or wearing it in a ring. Lunatics, for example, are treated by binding an herb about the neck with red cloth when the moon is waxing in the sign of the bull or the first part of the scorpion. Not only does observance of astrology assist the medicinal application of herbs; plants are in turn of assistance in the pursuit of astrology. To learn under the rule of what star you are, be in a state of purity, pluck the herb Montaster, keep it in a bit of clean linen until you find a whole grain of wheat in a loaf of bread, then place this with the herb under your pillow and pray to the seven planets to reveal your guardian star to you in your sleep. Indeed prayers and incantations are frequently employed and in one case must be repeated nine times. Sometimes the herb itself is addressed, as in the conjuration, “Herb Erystion, I implore you to aid me and cheerfully afford me all your virtues and cure and make whole all those ills which Aesculapius and Chiron the centaur, masters of medicine, healed by means of you.” Sometimes the earth is conjured as in the prayer beginning, “Holy goddess Earth.” Such prayers are scarcely consonant with Christianity and in some manuscripts have been omitted and replaced by the Lord’s Prayer or other Christian forms, or left in with their wording slightly altered to avoid paganism.[2447] Personal purity and clean clothing are often enjoined[Pg 599] upon those gathering the herbs and such instructions are added as to mark the circle about the plant with gold, silver, ivory, the tooth of a wild boar, and the horn of a bull, or to fill the hole with honeyed fruits. Some herbs protect their bearers from all serpents or even from all evils. Others, like asparagus if you use a dry root of it to sprinkle the patient with spring water, break the spell of witchcraft. Asparagus is also beneficial for toothache and wonderfully relieves a tumor or bladder trouble, if it is boiled in water and drunk by the patient fasting for seven days and also used in bathing for a number of days. But one must be careful not to go out in the cold during this time nor to take cold drinks.[2448]

In the Herbarium, plants are listed, described, and their benefits, especially medicinal ones, are noted. Typically, the names of each herb in different languages or regions are provided—Latin, Greek, Punic, Biblical (by the Prophets),[Pg 598] Egyptian, Syrian, Gallic, Dacian, Spanish, Phrygian, and Tuscan. However, not all of these names are included in every instance. The benefits of the herbs often work in a mysterious way, or a process that resembles magic is involved in gathering or using them. Diseases can sometimes be cured just by holding an herb in your hand, wearing it around your neck, placing it behind your ear, or having it in a ring. For instance, people with mental illness are treated by tying an herb around their neck with red cloth while the moon is growing in the sign of Taurus or the early part of Scorpio. Following astrological principles aids in the medicinal use of herbs; plants, in turn, help in astrology. To find out under which star you were born, you need to be in a pure state, pick the herb Montaster, keep it in a piece of clean linen until you find a whole grain of wheat in a loaf of bread, then place this along with the herb under your pillow and pray to the seven planets to reveal your guardian star to you in your dreams. Indeed, prayers and incantations are often used, with one case requiring repetition nine times. Sometimes the herb itself is addressed, as in the invocation, “Herb Erystion, I beg you to help me and generously provide all your benefits to heal all those ailments that Aesculapius and Chiron the centaur, masters of medicine, treated through you.” Sometimes the earth is invoked, beginning with a prayer like, “Holy goddess Earth.” Such prayers are not entirely compatible with Christianity, and some manuscripts have removed them, replacing them with the Lord’s Prayer or other Christian forms, or kept them but with altered wordings to avoid paganism.[2447] Personal purity and clean clothes are often required for those gathering the herbs, along with instructions to mark a circle around the plant with gold, silver, ivory, a wild boar's tooth, or a bull's horn, or to fill the hole with sweet fruits. Some herbs protect their users from all snakes or even from all evils. Others, like asparagus, can break the spell of witchcraft if you use a dried root to sprinkle the patient with spring water. Asparagus is also effective for toothache and significantly alleviates tumors or bladder issues if boiled in water and drunk by the patient on an empty stomach for seven days and also used in baths for several days. However, one must be careful not to go out in the cold during this period or to consume cold drinks.[2448]

A “Precantation of All Herbs.”

In some manuscripts a “Precantation of all herbs” is placed at the beginning of the treatise.[2449] It prescribes such procedure as holding a mirror over the herb before plucking it before sunrise under a waning moon. The person plucking the herb and uttering the incantation must be barefoot, ungirded, chaste, and wear no ring. The plant is adjured not only “by the living God” and “the holy name of God, Sabaoth,” but also by Seia, the Roman goddess of sowing, and by “GS,” which presumably stands for Gaia Seia, an expression which is once written out in full. Some meaningless words are also repeated.

In some manuscripts, a “Prayer for all herbs” is placed at the beginning of the treatise.[2449] It outlines a process where you hold a mirror over the herb before picking it at sunrise during a waning moon. The person picking the herb and reciting the incantation must be barefoot, unbelted, chaste, and wear no ring. The plant is summoned not only “by the living God” and “the holy name of God, Sabaoth,” but also by Seia, the Roman goddess of sowing, and by “GS,” which likely stands for Gaia Seia, a phrase that's once fully spelled out. Some nonsensical words are also repeated.

Other treatises accompanying the Herbarium.

The Herbarium is often accompanied in the manuscripts by other treatises on herbs ascribed to Dioscorides and Macer, of which we shall speak presently; by a work on the medicinal properties of animals, or more particularly of quadrupeds, by Sextus Papirius Placidus[2450] Actor[2451]—an[Pg 600] otherwise quite unknown personage;[2452] by a “letter concerning a little beast” from the king of Egypt or Aesculapius to the emperor Octavian Augustus;[2453] and by introductory letters, such as we find prefaced to the De medicamentis of Marcellus Empiricus, of “Hippocrates to his Moecenas”[2454] and “Antonius Musus to Moecenas Agrippa.” The epistle of the Egyptian king or Aesculapius to Augustus, however, really forms the introduction or opening chapter to the treatise of Sextus Papirius Placidus on the medicinal properties of animals, and after the little beast or quadruped called mela or taxo[2455] follow fast the stag, serpent, fox, hare, scorpion, and so forth. As for the taxo, Augustus is told that by means of it he can protect himself from sorcerers, avoid defections in his army, and preserve his troops from the pestilence which the barbarians bring, and the city of Rome from both pestilences and fires. To this end a lustration should be performed with its flesh, and it should then be buried at the city gates. One way to appropriate its virtue is to extract its large teeth, repeating a jargon of strange words the while.

The Herbarium is often accompanied in the manuscripts by other writings on herbs attributed to Dioscorides and Macer, which we will discuss shortly; by a work on the medicinal properties of animals, specifically quadrupeds, by Sextus Papirius Placidus—an otherwise fairly unknown figure; by a “letter regarding a small creature” from the king of Egypt or Aesculapius to Emperor Octavian Augustus; and by introductory letters, such as those prefacing the De medicamentis of Marcellus Empiricus, from “Hippocrates to his Moecenas” and “Antonius Musus to Moecenas Agrippa.” The letter from the Egyptian king or Aesculapius to Augustus actually serves as the introduction or opening chapter to Sextus Papirius Placidus's treatise on the medicinal properties of animals, and following the little beast or quadruped called mela or taxo, we quickly encounter the stag, serpent, fox, hare, scorpion, and so on. Regarding the taxo, Augustus is informed that it can help him protect himself from sorcerers, prevent defections in his army, and shield his troops from the plagues brought by the barbarians, as well as protect the city of Rome from both plagues and fires. To achieve this, a purification ritual should be conducted using its flesh, which should then be buried at the city gates. One way to harness its power is to extract its large teeth while reciting a strange collection of words.

Cosmography of Aethicus.

Another characteristic product of declining antique learning and of early medieval effort is found in the field of geography in the Cosmography of Aethicus Istricus, translated into Latin by the priest Jerome (Hieronymus Presbyter). The oldest manuscript is one of the eighth[Pg 601] century in the British Museum,[2456] where it is also found in several other fairly early manuscripts[2457] in the respectable company of Vitruvius, Vegetius, Sallust, and Suetonius,[2458] as well as with the more congenial work of Solinus. This Cosmographia was not printed until 1852, when it was edited at Paris by M. d’Avezac and again in 1854 at Leipzig by M. H. Wuttke. It is an entirely different work from what had hitherto been repeatedly printed as the Cosmography of Aethicus but is really to be identified with fragments of Julian Honorius and Orosius. The Latin translator of our treatise had been identified in the middle ages with St. Jerome, the church father, and Wuttke still ascribed it to him, but Bunbury protested against this,[2459] and Mommsen placed our treatise not earlier than the seventh century.[2460]

Another notable outcome of the decline of ancient knowledge and early medieval effort is found in the field of geography in the Cosmography of Aethicus Istricus, translated into Latin by the priest Jerome (Hieronymus Presbyter). The oldest manuscript dates back to the eighth century and is located in the British Museum, where it is also found in several other relatively early manuscripts in the distinguished company of Vitruvius, Vegetius, Sallust, and Suetonius, as well as with the more relatable work of Solinus. This Cosmographia wasn't printed until 1852, when it was edited in Paris by M. d’Avezac, and again in 1854 in Leipzig by M. H. Wuttke. It is completely different from what had previously been printed as the Cosmography of Aethicus and is actually associated with fragments of Julian Honorius and Orosius. The Latin translator of our treatise was mistakenly identified in the Middle Ages as St. Jerome, the church father, and Wuttke still attributed it to him, but Bunbury objected to this, and Mommsen placed our treatise no earlier than the seventh century.

Its medieval influence

Bunbury added, however, that the Cosmography “appears to have been much read in the middle ages, and is therefore not without literary interest.” The apparent greatness of the names on the title page seems to have given the middle ages an exaggerated notion of the work’s importance. Aethicus himself is spoken of as from Istria and according to the Explicit of at least one manuscript[2461] was a Scythian, but this does not mean that his attitude towards learning was that of a Hun, for the same Explicit goes on to inform us that he was of noble lineage and, if I correctly[Pg 602] interpret the faulty syntax of its Latin, that from him the ethical philosophy of other sages drew its origins. Somewhat later Roger Bacon said in discussing faults in the study of theology in his day, “From the authorities of the philosophers whom the saints cite I shall abstain, except that I will strengthen the utterances of Ethicus the astronomer and Alchimus the philosopher by the authority of the blessed Jerome, since no one could credit that they had said so many marvelous things about Christ and the angels and demons and men who are to be glorified or damned unless Jerome or some other saint proved that they had said so.”[2462]

Bunbury added, however, that the Cosmography “seems to have been widely read in the Middle Ages and is, therefore, not without literary significance.” The impressive names on the title page appear to have led to an inflated view of the work's importance during that time. Aethicus himself is said to be from Istria and, according to the Explicit of at least one manuscript[2461], was a Scythian, but this doesn't mean that his attitude towards learning was like that of a Hun. The same Explicit goes on to say that he came from noble lineage and, if I interpret the flawed syntax of its Latin correctly, that other wise figures drew the foundations of their ethical philosophy from him. Later, Roger Bacon remarked, while discussing the faults in the study of theology in his era, “I will refrain from citing the authorities of the philosophers whom the saints reference, except that I will support the statements of Ethicus the astronomer and Alchimus the philosopher with the authority of the blessed Jerome, since no one could believe that they spoke so many wonderful things about Christ, angels, demons, and the fates of men—whether to be glorified or damned—unless Jerome or some other saint confirmed that they did.”[2462]

Character of the work.

As Bacon’s words indicate, Christian influence is manifest in the Cosmography, although, as they also indicate, the original Aethicus is not supposed to have been a Christian, but, as one manuscript informs us, an Academic philosopher.[2463] Oriental influence, too, is perhaps shown in flights of poetical language and unrestrained imagination, in a number of allusions to Alexander the Great, and in an extraordinary ignorance of early Roman history which leads the author to tell how Romulus invaded Pannonia and fought against the Lacedaemonians. “How great carnage,” he exclaims, “in Lacedaemonia, Noricum and Pannonia, Istria and Albania, northern regions near my home, first at the hands of the Romans and the tyrant Numitor, then under the brothers Romulus and Remus, and later under the first Tarquin, the Proud.” The author eulogizes Athens as well as Alexander, and mentions a people called Turchi, but whether or not he has Turks in mind would be hard to say.

As Bacon’s words suggest, Christian influence is evident in the Cosmography, although, as they also indicate, the original Aethicus is not believed to have been a Christian but, as one manuscript tells us, an Academic philosopher. Oriental influence might also be present in the poetic language and vivid imagination, in several references to Alexander the Great, and in a remarkable lack of knowledge about early Roman history that leads the author to describe how Romulus invaded Pannonia and fought against the Lacedaemonians. “What a great slaughter,” he exclaims, “in Lacedaemonia, Noricum and Pannonia, Istria and Albania, regions near my home, first at the hands of the Romans and the tyrant Numitor, then under the brothers Romulus and Remus, and later under the first Tarquin, the Proud.” The author praises Athens as well as Alexander and mentions a people called Turchi, but whether he is actually referring to Turks is hard to determine.

Its attitude to marvels.

As we have it, the Cosmography cites both the Ethicus and the Alchimus to whom Roger Bacon referred. Indeed, our treatise does not pretend to be the original work of Aethicus,[Pg 603] which it repeatedly cites, but is apparently the work of some epitomizer or abbreviator who intersperses remarks and comments of his own, and, according to one manuscript, makes the statements of Aethicus conform to Christian Scripture. From the volumes of the original work he makes only a few excerpts, professing to omit what is unheard of or unknown or seems too formidable, and including only with hesitancy a few bits concerning unknown races on the testimony of hearsay. The enigmas of Aethicus and other philosophers often give our abbreviator pause, and he regards as incredible the story of Aethicus that the Amazons nurse young minotaurs and centaurs who fight for them in return. Aethicus also tells of the wonderful armor of the Amazons which they treat with bitumen and the blood of their own offspring. In Crete Aethicus found herbs unknown in other lands which ward off famine. Very beautiful gems are mentioned, including those extracted from the brains of immense dragons and basilisks, but little is said of their virtues, occult or otherwise. Indeed, the amount either of specific information or specific misinformation in the book is very scanty. It deals largely in uncouth rhetoric, glittering generalities, and obscure allusion anent the wanderings of Aethicus over the face of the earth and the strange marvels which he encountered in distant lands. He is described as well versed in astrology and as reproving the astrologers of Scythia(?) and Mantua(?), and one passage vaguely speaks of the stars as signs of the present and future; but otherwise the abbreviator gives little evidence of knowledge of the subject, although Roger Bacon[2464] cited Ethicus Astronomicus in Cosmographia as one of his authorities when discussing the question of Jesus Christ’s nativity and its relation to the stars, and although Pico della Mirandola ranked the Cosmography as one of the most absurd of astrological works.[2465] As for magic, in one passage malefici and magi are censured along with idolaters, and the[Pg 604] author presently speaks of vain characters and superstitious doctrines. But elsewhere a magician (Pirronius magus) is named as the inventor of ships and discoverer of purple. On the whole, in its loose and hazy way the Cosmography not only is romantic and religious enough to appeal to medieval readers, it also is of a character to offer encouragement, if not data, to a later and more detailed interest in alchemy, occult virtues, astrology, and magic.

As it stands, the Cosmography references both Ethicus and Alchimus, whom Roger Bacon mentioned. Our treatise doesn’t claim to be the original work of Aethicus,[Pg 603] which it cites multiple times, but is apparently the creation of some summarizer or abridger who adds his own comments and, according to one manuscript, aligns Aethicus's statements with Christian Scripture. He makes only a few quotes from the original work, claiming to leave out what is unheard of, unknown, or seems too daunting, and includes only a few details about uncharted races based on hearsay. The mysteries of Aethicus and other philosophers often give our summarizer pause, and he finds Aethicus's tale of the Amazons nursing young minotaurs and centaurs, who fight for them, hard to believe. Aethicus also describes the extraordinary armor of the Amazons treated with bitumen and their own offspring's blood. In Crete, Aethicus discovered herbs unknown elsewhere that prevent famine. There are mentions of beautiful gems, including those sourced from the brains of massive dragons and basilisks, but little is said about their mysterious properties. The book offers scant specific information or misinformation, primarily filled with clumsy rhetoric, flashy generalizations, and vague references to Aethicus's travels and the strange wonders he experienced in distant lands. He is portrayed as knowledgeable in astrology, critiquing astrologers from Scythia(?) and Mantua(?), and one passage vaguely refers to the stars as signs of the present and future. However, the summarizer shows little real understanding of the topic, even though Roger Bacon[2464] cited Ethicus Astronomicus in Cosmographia as one of his sources while discussing the birth of Jesus Christ and its connection to the stars, and Pico della Mirandola considered the Cosmography as one of the most absurd astrological works.[2465] Regarding magic, one section criticizes malefici and magi alongside idolaters, and the author soon mentions foolish characters and superstitious beliefs. However, elsewhere, a magician (Pirronius magus) is credited as the inventor of ships and discoverer of purple dye. Overall, with its loose and vague style, the Cosmography is not only romantic and religious enough to engage medieval readers, but it also provides inspiration, if not specific information, for a later and deeper exploration of alchemy, occult powers, astrology, and magic.

The Geoponica.

Upon the subject of agriculture in the early middle ages we have the collection known as the Geoponica. It properly belongs to Byzantine literature and perhaps had little direct influence upon western Europe. Nevertheless at least a portion of it upon vineyards was translated into Latin by Burgundio of Pisa in the twelfth century.[2466] In any case as the “only formal treatise on Greek agriculture” extant it is a rather important historical source; it also is a good specimen of early medieval compilations from classical works; and in its inclusion of superstitious and magical details it is probably roughly representative of the period, whether in east or west. In the form which we now possess it was published about 950 A. D. and dedicated to the Byzantine emperor, Constantine VII or Porphyrygennetos. But this issue was perhaps little more than an abbreviated revision of the work of Cassianus Bassus of the sixth century, whose introductory words to his son are still given at the beginning of the seventh book. Cassianus is believed in his turn to have been especially indebted to two fourth century writers, Vindanius Anatolius of Beirut, whose agricultural teaching was of a sober and rational sort, and Didymus of Alexandria, who was more given to superstition and magic.[2467]

When it comes to agriculture in the early Middle Ages, we have the collection known as the Geoponica. It is primarily part of Byzantine literature and likely had little direct impact on Western Europe. However, at least some sections about vineyards were translated into Latin by Burgundio of Pisa in the twelfth century.[2466] Regardless, as the "only formal treatise on Greek agriculture" still available, it serves as a significant historical source; it also showcases early medieval compilations of classical works. Its inclusion of superstitious and magical elements likely reflects the period well, whether in the East or the West. The version we have today was published around 950 A.D. and dedicated to the Byzantine emperor, Constantine VII or Porphyrygennetos. However, this publication was probably just an abbreviated revision of the work of Cassianus Bassus from the sixth century, whose introductory remarks to his son are still included at the beginning of the seventh book. Cassianus is thought to have particularly drawn from two fourth-century writers: Vindanius Anatolius of Beirut, known for his sensible and rational agricultural methods, and Didymus of Alexandria, who leaned more towards superstition and magic.[2467]

Magic and astrology therein.

Nevertheless, magic and astrology find no place in the index to the most recent edition of the work.[2468] A survey, however, of the text itself reveals some indications of the[Pg 605] presence of both. The very first of its twenty books deals with astrological prediction of the weather and cites some spurious work or works by Zoroaster a great deal. In later books, too, Zoroaster is sometimes cited for semi-astrological advice, such as guarding wine jars against sun or moon-beams when opening them, or testing seed by exposing it to the rays of the dog-star.[2469] Zoroaster is also used as an authority on the sympathy and antipathy existing between natural objects.[2470] Damigeron and Democritus are other names cited which are suggestive of the occult and magical.[2471] There are not, however, many cases of extreme superstition in the Geoponica. Something is said of the marvelous properties of gems, of the effect of a hyena’s shadow falling upon a dog by moonlight, and how dogs will not attack a person who holds a hyena’s tongue in his hand.[2472] Incantations of a sort are occasionally recommended.[2473] To keep wine from turning sour one is directed to write the divine words, “Taste and see that the Lord is good” upon the wine-jar.[2474] Another passage advises a person who finds himself in a place full of fleas to cry, “Ouch! Ouch!” and then they will not bite him.[2475]

Nevertheless, magic and astrology have no place in the index of the most recent edition of the work.[2468] However, a look at the text itself shows some signs of both. The very first of its twenty books covers astrological predictions for the weather and references some questionable works attributed to Zoroaster quite a bit. In later books, Zoroaster is also referenced for semi-astrological advice, like protecting wine jars from sun or moonlight when opening them, or testing seeds by exposing them to the rays of the dog-star.[2469] Zoroaster is also cited as an authority on the relationships of sympathy and antipathy between natural objects.[2470] Damigeron and Democritus are other names mentioned that suggest the occult and magical.[2471] However, there aren't many instances of extreme superstition in the Geoponica. There are mentions of the amazing properties of gems, the effect of a hyena’s shadow falling on a dog by moonlight, and how dogs won’t attack someone who is holding a hyena's tongue.[2472] Some kind of incantations are occasionally recommended.[2473] To keep wine from spoiling, one is advised to write the divine words, “Taste and see that the Lord is good” on the wine jar.[2474] Another passage suggests that someone in a flea-infested place should yell, “Ouch! Ouch!” and then they won’t bite him.[2475]

Dioscorides.

Perhaps the chief ancient work on pharmacology was the De materia medica or Περὶ ὕλης ἰατρικῆς of Pedanius Dioscorides of Anazarba. Galen, as we have seen, found things to criticize in it but nevertheless made great use of it in his own work on medicinal simples. Dioscorides of course had his previous sources but seems to have surpassed them in fulness and orderliness of arrangement. Of the man himself his preface tells us all that we know, and his dedication shows that he probably wrote during the reign of Nero. He was born in Cilicia near Tarsus, he had traveled in many lands as a soldier, and his work was based[Pg 606] partly upon personal observation and experience as well as previous books.

Perhaps the main ancient work on pharmacology was the De materia medica or Περὶ ὕλης ἰατρικῆς by Pedanius Dioscorides of Anazarba. Galen, as we have seen, found some faults in it but still made extensive use of it in his own work on medicinal herbs. Dioscorides certainly had earlier sources, but he appears to have outdone them in detail and organization. The preface provides all the information we have about him, and his dedication indicates that he likely wrote during Nero's reign. He was born in Cilicia near Tarsus, traveled extensively as a soldier, and his work was based partly on personal observation and experience as well as previous texts.

Textual history of the De materia medica.

Dioscorides’ influence continued and even increased as time went on; but if future centuries were deeply influenced by his book, it was also seriously affected by them, for it seems to have been subjected to a long series of repeated abbreviations and omissions, additions and interpolations, changes in form and in order. Thus all sorts of versions of what was called Dioscorides came into being, but which in some cases can hardly be regarded as more than compilations from all the favorite pharmacies of the time, in which the genuine Dioscorides constituted but a remnant or a core. Thus most early printed editions of what purports to be the De materia medica must be handled with great caution, and it may perhaps be doubted if even the latest effort of Max Wellmann to recover the original Greek text has been entirely successful.[2476] Of the five books regarded as genuine and original the first dealt with spices, salves, and oils; the second, with parts of animals and animal products like milk and honey, with grains, vegetables, and pot-herbs. Other plants and roots were considered in the third and fourth books, while the last dealt with wines and minerals.[2477]

Dioscorides’ influence grew and even expanded over time; however, while future centuries were greatly shaped by his book, it was also significantly impacted by them. It seems to have undergone a long series of abbreviations, omissions, additions, and alterations in both form and organization. As a result, all kinds of versions of what was called Dioscorides emerged, many of which can hardly be seen as more than compilations from the popular pharmacies of the time, where the genuine Dioscorides represented just a remnant or a core. Therefore, most early printed editions claiming to be the De materia medica should be approached with extreme caution, and it may even be questioned whether Max Wellmann’s latest attempt to recover the original Greek text has been entirely successful.[2476] Of the five books considered genuine and original, the first focuses on spices, salves, and oils; the second addresses parts of animals and animal products like milk and honey, along with grains, vegetables, and culinary herbs. Other plants and roots are discussed in the third and fourth books, while the last book covers wines and minerals.[2477]

Alterations made in the Greek text.

Whether we now possess Dioscorides’ original text or not, at any rate the oldest Greek manuscripts do not contain it, but only that portion dealing with herbs. Moreover, this has been rearranged in alphabetical order and has been adapted to fit a set of pictures of plants which were perhaps taken over from the work of Crateuas, one of Dioscorides’ chief sources. Such is the famous early sixth century illuminated manuscript made for Juliana Anicia, daughter of the emperor Olybrius (472 A. D.) and wife of the consul[Pg 607] Areobindus (about 512 A. D.).[2478] The alphabetical rearrangement of the Greek text of Dioscorides was made at some time between Galen and Oribasius, who cites from it in the fourth century. Not only were the five books of the genuine De materia medica interpolated, but additional spurious books were added “On Harmful Drugs” and “On Poisons.”[2479] The work on medicinal simples attributed to Dioscorides is extant in no manuscript earlier than the fourteenth century and some versions of it are much more interpolated than others. As Galen does not cite it while Oribasius and Aëtius do use it, it is assumed that it was composed[Pg 608] in the third or early fourth century with a forged dedication to a contemporary of Dioscorides, but that it made considerable use of the genuine Dioscorides, to which it bore much the same relation as the Medicina Plinii did to the Historia Naturalis. Later, however, some Byzantine compiler of the eleventh, twelfth, or thirteenth century introduced a great deal of new material from Galen’s genuine and spurious works in that field and from John of Damascus.[2480]

Whether we now have Dioscorides' original text or not, the oldest Greek manuscripts certainly don't include it, but only the parts that discuss herbs. Additionally, this has been rearranged in alphabetical order and adapted to fit a series of plant illustrations that were likely borrowed from the work of Crateuas, one of Dioscorides' primary sources. This includes the well-known illuminated manuscript from the early sixth century, created for Juliana Anicia, the daughter of Emperor Olybrius (472 A.D.) and wife of the consul Areobindus (around 512 A.D.). The alphabetical arrangement of the Greek text of Dioscorides was done sometime between Galen and Oribasius, who references it in the fourth century. Not only were the five books of the authentic De materia medica altered, but additional fake books were added called “On Harmful Drugs” and “On Poisons.” The work on medicinal simples attributed to Dioscorides exists in no manuscript earlier than the fourteenth century, and some versions are much more altered than others. Since Galen doesn’t reference it while Oribasius and Aëtius do, it is believed that it was created in the third or early fourth century with a forged dedication to someone contemporary with Dioscorides, but that it relied heavily on genuine Dioscorides, similar to how the Medicina Plinii relates to the Historia Naturalis. Later, some Byzantine compiler from the eleventh, twelfth, or thirteenth century added a lot of new material from both genuine and fake works of Galen in that area, as well as from John of Damascus.

Dioscorides little known to Latins before the middle ages.

What more especially concern us are the medieval Latin versions of Dioscorides. As a matter of fact, although the De materia medica was from the start highly regarded and widely used by Greek physicians, it seems to have been little known to Latin writers until the verge of the medieval period. Gargilius Martialis, a Roman writer on agriculture in the third century of our era, was the only old Latin author to cite Dioscorides, which he did, however, no less than eighteen times in his Medicinae ex oleribus et pomis. This has led to the suggestion that he was perhaps responsible for the first Latin translation or version of Dioscorides; but it seems unlikely that the work had been put into Latin as early as his time, since it is not cited again by a Latin writer until the sixth century and is not used by such medical authors as Serenus Sammonicus, Cassius Felix, Theodorus Priscianus, and Marcellus Empiricus.

What specifically concerns us are the medieval Latin versions of Dioscorides. In fact, even though the De materia medica was highly regarded and widely used by Greek doctors from the very beginning, it seems to have been relatively unknown to Latin writers until just before the medieval period. Gargilius Martialis, a Roman author on agriculture in the third century AD, was the only ancient Latin writer to mention Dioscorides, and he did so no less than eighteen times in his Medicinae ex oleribus et pomis. This has led to the idea that he might have been responsible for the first Latin translation or version of Dioscorides; however, it seems unlikely that the work was translated into Latin as early as his time, since it is not mentioned again by a Latin writer until the sixth century and is not referenced by medical authors like Serenus Sammonicus, Cassius Felix, Theodorus Priscianus, and Marcellus Empiricus.

Partial versions in Latin.

But at least a portion of Dioscorides seems to have been translated into Latin by the time of Cassiodorus, who, writing in the first half of the sixth century, states that those who cannot read Greek may consult the Herbarium Dioscoridis.[2481] This naturally suggests a version limited to medicinal plants like the early Greek text in the manuscript of Juliana Anicia. This impression is confirmed by the preface to some early Latin version of Dioscorides, which Rose discovered in one of the manuscripts of the Herbarium of[Pg 609] Apuleius in the British Museum.[2482] This preface implies that the translation which it introduced was limited to the botanical books of Dioscorides and states that it was accompanied by illustrations of herbs.

But at least part of Dioscorides seems to have been translated into Latin by the time of Cassiodorus, who, writing in the first half of the sixth century, notes that those who can't read Greek may refer to the Herbarium Dioscoridis.[2481] This naturally implies a version focused on medicinal plants, similar to the early Greek text found in the manuscript of Juliana Anicia. This idea is supported by the preface to some early Latin version of Dioscorides, which Rose found in one of the manuscripts of the Herbarium of [Pg 609] Apuleius in the British Museum.[2482] This preface suggests that the translation it introduced was limited to the botanical books of Dioscorides and mentioned that it included illustrations of herbs.

De herbis femininis.

Based upon this partial translation rather than identical with it is believed to have been the De herbis femininis,[2483] which was ascribed to Dioscorides in the middle ages and which often accompanies the Herbarium of the Pseudo-Apuleius in the manuscripts. In this case the herbs of the Pseudo-Apuleius are sometimes called masculine, but as a matter of fact only a minority of those in the Pseudo-Dioscorides seem to be distinctly feminine. Of seventy-one plants Kaestner classed fifteen or sixteen as feminine, while in only thirty cases are they prescribed for female complaints. Rose dated this work before Isidore of Seville by whom he believed it was used.[2484] It seems to combine a free Latin translation of excerpts from the genuine Dioscorides with numerous additions from other sources.

Based on this partial translation, rather than being identical to it, it's believed to be the De herbis femininis, [2483] which was attributed to Dioscorides in the Middle Ages and often appears alongside the Herbarium of the Pseudo-Apuleius in the manuscripts. In this case, the herbs from the Pseudo-Apuleius are sometimes referred to as masculine, but in reality, only a minority of those in the Pseudo-Dioscorides seem distinctly feminine. Out of seventy-one plants, Kaestner categorized fifteen or sixteen as feminine, while they are prescribed for female issues in only thirty cases. Rose dated this work before Isidore of Seville, whom he believed utilized it. [2484] It appears to combine a loose Latin translation of excerpts from the authentic Dioscorides with numerous additions from other sources.

The fuller Latin versions.

Besides such abbreviated and interpolated Latin versions or perversions of Dioscorides, there was also in existence in the early middle ages a literal translation of all five books[Pg 610] of the De materia medica. It is full of Latinisms and barbarisms but otherwise reproduces the complete and genuine Dioscorides, or is supposed to do so. Rose and Wellmann[2485] say that it was current from the sixth century on, and the few extant manuscripts of it date from the early medieval period.[2486] One reason for this seems to be that this literal translation was replaced by another Latin version which in a Bamberg manuscript[2487] is ascribed to Constantinus Africanus, the medical translator and writer of the eleventh century. In this version the items are arranged alphabetically, and additions are embodied from other sources. This version apparently became much better known than the earlier literal translation and has been called “the most widely disseminated handbook of pharmacy of the whole later middle ages.”[2488] It is stated by Rose to be identical with the “Dyascorides,” upon which Peter of Abano lectured and commented about 1300 and which was printed at Colle in 1478 and again at Lyons in 1512.[2489]

Besides some shortened and altered Latin versions of Dioscorides, there was also an actual translation of all five books[Pg 610] of the De materia medica in the early Middle Ages. It’s full of Latin phrases and oddities, but it otherwise aims to accurately represent the complete and authentic Dioscorides. Rose and Wellmann[2485] mention that it was in use from the sixth century onward, and the few surviving manuscripts of it date back to the early medieval period.[2486] One reason for this seems to be that this literal translation was replaced by another Latin version attributed to Constantinus Africanus, the medical translator and writer from the eleventh century, found in a Bamberg manuscript[2487]. In this version, the items are organized alphabetically, and it includes additions from other sources. This version seemingly became much more popular than the earlier literal translation and has been referred to as “the most widely disseminated handbook of pharmacy of the whole later Middle Ages.”[2488] Rose states it is the same as the “Dyascorides,” which Peter of Abano lectured on and commented about in 1300, and which was printed in Colle in 1478 and again in Lyon in 1512.[2489]

Peter of Abano’s account of the medieval versions.

Peter of Abano tells us in his preface[2490] that in his time there were current two different versions, although both had the same preface. One of these was in five books with a great many short chapters, so short in fact that often the treatment of a single thing was scattered over several chapters. This version was rare in Latin. The other version contained fewer but longer chapters with material added from Galen, Pliny, and other writers. This version was[Pg 611] arranged alphabetically. It was this version which Aggregator[2491] had followed and imitated, but sometimes there were chapters in either “Dyascorides” which were missing in Aggregator. Peter had also seen an alphabetical version of Dioscorides in Greek.

Peter of Abano tells us in his preface[2490] that during his time, there were two different versions available, both having the same preface. One version consisted of five books with many short chapters, so short that the discussion of a single topic was often spread across several chapters. This version was uncommon in Latin. The other version had fewer but longer chapters, including material from Galen, Pliny, and other authors. This version was[Pg 611] organized alphabetically. It was this version that Aggregator[2491] followed and mimicked, but there were sometimes chapters in either “Dioscorides” that were absent in Aggregator. Peter had also seen an alphabetical version of Dioscorides in Greek.

Pseudo-Dioscorides on stones.

There seems also to have been current, at least in the later middle ages, a Pseudo-Dioscorides on stones, drawn in part, like the Feminine Herbs, from the genuine De materia medica, whose discussion of the virtues of stones is incredible enough.[2492] This Dioscorides on Stones is cited by Arnold of Saxony and Bartholomew of England in the thirteenth century, and portions at least of the work are extant in manuscripts at Erfurt and Montpellier.[2493] A work on physical ligatures is ascribed to Dioscorides in a late manuscript,[2494] but is really a collection of items from various authors since Dioscorides on the marvelous virtues of animals, herbs, and stones, especially when bound on the body, held in the hand, or worn around the neck.

There seems to have been a Pseudo-Dioscorides on stones, especially in the later Middle Ages, which, like the Feminine Herbs, was partly based on the authentic De materia medica. Its discussion of the qualities of stones is quite remarkable.[2492] This Dioscorides on Stones is mentioned by Arnold of Saxony and Bartholomew of England in the thirteenth century, and parts of the work still exist in manuscripts at Erfurt and Montpellier.[2493] A work on physical ligatures is attributed to Dioscorides in a late manuscript,[2494] but it’s actually a collection of entries from various authors since Dioscorides wrote about the amazing qualities of animals, herbs, and stones, especially when carried on the body, held in the hand, or worn as jewelry.

Conclusions from the textual history of Dioscorides.

The history of the medieval versions of Dioscorides, even in the brief and incomplete outline given here, is instructive, showing us in general the vicissitudes to which the transmission of the text of any ancient author may have been subjected, but more especially proving that the middle ages, whether Latin or Byzantine, were ready to take great liberties with ancient authorities and to adapt them to their own taste and requirements. And indeed, why should they not rearrange and make additions to their[Pg 612] Dioscorides? After all it was a compilation to begin with. But the case of Dioscorides has also taught us that we do not have to wait until the medieval period for the appearance of new versions of an ancient author.

The history of the medieval versions of Dioscorides, even in the brief and incomplete outline provided here, is enlightening. It shows us the ups and downs that the text of any ancient author may face in its transmission. More specifically, it demonstrates that the Middle Ages, whether Latin or Byzantine, were inclined to take considerable liberties with ancient texts and adapt them to their own preferences and needs. And indeed, why shouldn't they rearrange and add to their[Pg 612] Dioscorides? After all, it was a compilation in the first place. However, the case of Dioscorides also teaches us that we don't have to wait until the medieval period for new versions of an ancient author to emerge.

Macer on herbs; its great currency.

With the possible exception of the Herbarium of the Pseudo-Apuleius, probably the best known single and distinct treatment of the virtues of herbs produced during the middle ages was the poem De viribus herbarum which circulated under the name of Macer Floridus.[2495] It was often cited by the medieval encyclopedists and other writers on nature and medicine in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.[2496] It is found in an Anglo-Saxon version[2497] and was even translated into Danish in the early thirteenth century.[2498] Manuscripts of it are very numerous[2499] and there are many early printed editions.[2500] Even as recently as the first half of the nineteenth century a historian of medicine and natural science, in the preface of his edition of Macer, stated as one argument for the modern study of medieval medicine that much might be learned from writings of that period concerning the virtues of herbs.[2501]

With the possible exception of the Herbarium by Pseudo-Apuleius, the most well-known single and distinct treatment of the virtues of herbs produced during the Middle Ages was the poem De viribus herbarum, which circulated under the name of Macer Floridus.[2495] It was frequently referenced by medieval encyclopedists and other writers on nature and medicine in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.[2496] It exists in an Anglo-Saxon version[2497] and was even translated into Danish in the early thirteenth century.[2498] There are many manuscripts of it[2499] and numerous early printed editions.[2500] As recently as the first half of the nineteenth century, a historian of medicine and natural science, in the preface of his edition of Macer, argued that much could be learned from writings of that era regarding the virtues of herbs.[2501]

Problem of date and author

The poem was certainly not written by the classical poet, Aemilius Macer, who was a friend of Vergil and Ovid, and whose descriptions of plants, birds, and reptiles are cited by Pliny in his Natural History and also preserved in some extracts by the grammarians. Proof of this is that our[Pg 613] poem cites Pliny; in fact, it cites him more frequently than any other author. It also cites Galen six times, Dioscorides four, and as late an author as Oribasius twice.[2502] But Oribasius is not the latest author cited since Walafrid Strabo is also used.[2503] Strabo was born about 806, became abbot of Reichenau in 842, and died in 849. In his Hortulus, a poem dedicated to Grimoald, the abbot of St. Gall, he described twenty-three herbs in 444 hexameters.[2504] Indeed Stadler holds that the Pseudo-Macer uses the De gradibus of Constantinus Africanus who did not die until 1087.[2505] The true author of our poem ascribed to Macer is said on the authority of certain manuscripts to have been an Odo of Meung on the Loire, apparently the same town as the birthplace of Jean Clopinel or de Meun, the learned author of the latter portion of The Romance of the Rose. Choulant, however, did not regard this as sufficiently proved, and Stadler has recently noted that some manuscripts ascribe the poem to a physician, Odo of Verona; and others to the Cistercian, Odo of Morimont, who died in 1161.[2506] In any case, unless the mentions of Strabo are later interpolations, the author must be regarded as post-Carolingian, while he cannot be later than the eleventh century in view of a remark of Sigebertus Gemblacensis in 1112,[2507] the Anglo-Saxon version, the many twelfth century manuscripts, and the frequent use of his poem in the Regimen Salernitanum.[2508] Although Macer seems a pseudonym to begin with, the original poem, consisting of 2269 lines in which 77 herbs are discussed, is sometimes accompanied by additional lines regarded as spurious.[2509]

The poem was definitely not written by the classical poet, Aemilius Macer, who was a friend of Vergil and Ovid, and whose descriptions of plants, birds, and reptiles are mentioned by Pliny in his Natural History and also found in some excerpts by grammarians. Evidence for this is that our[Pg 613] poem refers to Pliny; in fact, it references him more often than any other author. It also mentions Galen six times, Dioscorides four times, and even cites a later author, Oribasius, twice.[2502] But Oribasius isn’t the most recent author mentioned, since Walafrid Strabo is also included.[2503] Strabo was born around 806, became abbot of Reichenau in 842, and died in 849. In his Hortulus, a poem dedicated to Grimoald, the abbot of St. Gall, he described twenty-three herbs across 444 hexameters.[2504] In fact, Stadler believes that the Pseudo-Macer uses the De gradibus of Constantinus Africanus, who didn’t die until 1087.[2505] The true author of our poem attributed to Macer is said, according to certain manuscripts, to be an Odo from Meung on the Loire, likely the same town where Jean Clopinel or de Meun, the knowledgeable author of the latter part of The Romance of the Rose, was born. However, Choulant did not find this sufficiently proven, and Stadler has recently pointed out that some manuscripts attribute the poem to a physician, Odo of Verona; others to the Cistercian, Odo of Morimont, who died in 1161.[2506] In any event, unless the mentions of Strabo are later additions, the author must be considered post-Carolingian, and he cannot be later than the eleventh century given a remark from Sigebertus Gemblacensis in 1112,[2507] the Anglo-Saxon version, the many twelfth-century manuscripts, and the frequent use of his poem in the Regimen Salernitanum.[2508] While Macer seems to be a pseudonym at first, the original poem, consisting of 2269 lines discussing 77 herbs, is sometimes accompanied by additional lines considered fake.[2509]

[Pg 614]

[Pg 614]

Virtues ascribed to herbs.

Our poet does not appear to have much of his own to offer on the subject of the virtues of herbs. When he does not cite his authority by name, he usually qualifies the statement made by a vaguer “they say” or “it is said.” He does not connect certain herbs with certain stars or otherwise introduce anything that can be called astrological. He repeats Pliny’s statement of the powers ascribed to vervain by the magi, such as to gain one’s desires, win the friendship of the powerful, and dispel disease and fever. Pliny had spoken of the magi as “raving about this herb”; our poet says:

Our poet doesn’t seem to have much to say on the virtues of herbs. When he doesn’t mention his sources by name, he often uses vague phrases like “they say” or “it is said.” He doesn’t link specific herbs to specific stars or bring in any astrological concepts. He repeats Pliny’s claims about the powers attributed to vervain by the magi, such as helping to get what you want, earning the favor of the powerful, and curing illnesses and fevers. While Pliny described the magi as “raving about this herb,” our poet states:

“Although potent Nature can grant such virtues,
Yet they really seem to us idle old-wives’ tales.”[2510]

Nevertheless he himself about fifteen lines before had said of the vervain:

Nevertheless, he himself had mentioned about fifteen lines earlier regarding the vervain:

“If, holding this herb in the hand, you ask the patient,
‘Say, brother, how are you?’ and the patient answers, ‘Well,’
He will live; but if he says ‘Ill,’ there is no hope of safety.”[2511]

Our poet not only thus associates with herbs the virtue of divination, but is guilty of sympathetic magic when he believes that the ancients learned by experience that Dragontea or snake-weed dispels poisons, wards off snakes, and is good for snake-bite from observing the similarity between the spotted rind of the herb and the skin of a snake.[2512] Odo or Macer repeats Galen’s story of curing an epileptic boy by suspending a root of peony about his neck,[2513] and later asserts the same virtue for the herb pyrethrum.[2514] Even more magical is the ceremony for curing toothache which he takes from Pliny and which consists in digging up the herb Senecion without use of iron, touching the aching tooth with it three times, and then replacing the plant in the place where it came from so that it will grow again.[2515] Pliny is also cited[Pg 615] concerning the swallow’s restoring the sight of its young by swallow-wort.[2516] Our poet also repeats such beliefs as that the herb Buglossa preserves the memory,[2517] or that the smoke of Aristochia dispels demons and exhilarates infants.[2518] If the hives are anointed with the juice of the herb Barrocus, the bees will not desert them; while carrying that plant with one is a protection against the stings of bees, wasps, and spiders.[2519] Among the virtues most frequently attributed to herbs are expelling or killing worms, curing pestiferous bites or poisons, and provoking urine or vomiting. On the whole, “Macer” contains only a moderate amount of superstition, although rather more proportionally than Walafrid Strabo.

Our poet not only links herbs with the ability to predict the future, but also engages in sympathetic magic by believing that ancient people figured out from experience that Dragontea or snake-weed can remove poisons, keep snakes away, and help with snake bites by noticing the resemblance between the herb's spotted skin and a snake's skin.[2512] Odo or Macer repeats Galen’s tale of treating an epileptic boy by hanging a peony root around his neck,[2513] and later claims the same healing properties for the herb pyrethrum.[2514] Even more mystical is the toothache remedy taken from Pliny, which involves digging up the herb Senecion without using iron, touching the painful tooth with it three times, and then putting the plant back where it was found to allow it to grow again.[2515] Pliny is also referenced[Pg 615] regarding how the swallow restores its young's sight using swallow-wort.[2516] Our poet also repeats beliefs that the herb Buglossa improves memory,[2517] or that the smoke from Aristochia drives away demons and calms infants.[2518] If bee hives are treated with the juice of the herb Barrocus, the bees won't leave them; carrying that plant protects against bee, wasp, and spider stings.[2519] Among the most common benefits attributed to herbs are getting rid of or killing worms, healing harmful bites or poisons, and inducing urination or vomiting. Overall, “Macer” has only a moderate level of superstition, although somewhat more compared to Walafrid Strabo.

Experiments of Macer.

Although Odo or Macer seems to make no original contribution to botany, cites authorities frequently, and speaks often of the ancients or men of old, he also at least once cites “experts”[2520] and we have also seen his belief that the ancients had tested the virtues of plants by experience. This rather slight experimental character of the work is further emphasized in some manuscripts of it, where the title is “Experiments of Macer” and the matter seems to have been rearranged under diseases instead of by herbs.[2521]

Although Odo or Macer doesn’t seem to add anything original to botany, frequently references other sources, and often talks about the ancients, he does mention “experts” at least once and shows that he believes the ancients tested the qualities of plants through experience. This somewhat limited experimental nature of the work is highlighted in some manuscripts, where it’s titled “Experiments of Macer” and the content appears to be organized by diseases instead of by herbs.


[Pg 616]

[Pg 616]

CHAPTER XXVII
OTHER EARLY MEDIEVAL LEARNING: BOETHIUS, ISIDORE, BEDE, GREGORY THE GREAT

Aridity of early medieval learning—Historic importance of The Consolation of Philosophy—Medieval reading—Influence of the works of Boethius—His relation to antiquity and middle ages—Attitude to the stars—Fate and free will—Music of the stars and universe—Isidore of Seville—Method of the Etymologies—Its sources—Natural marvels—Isidore is rather less hospitable to superstition than Pliny—Portent—Words and numbers—History of magic—Definition of magic—Future influence of Isidore’s account of magic—Attitude to astrology—In the De natura rerum—Bede’s scanty science—Bede’s De natura rerum—Divination by thunder—Riddles of Aldhelm—Gregory’s Dialogues—Signs and wonders wrought by saints—More monkish miracles—A monastic snake-charmer—Basilius the magician—A demon salad—Incantations in Old Irish—The Fili.

Aridity of early medieval learning—Historic importance of The Consolation of Philosophy—Medieval reading—Influence of the works of Boethius—His connection to antiquity and the Middle Ages—Attitude towards the stars—Fate and free will—Music of the stars and universe—Isidore of Seville—Method of the Etymologies—Its sources—Natural wonders—Isidore is somewhat less open to superstition than Pliny—Omen—Words and numbers—History of magic—Definition of magic—Future impact of Isidore’s account of magic—Attitude towards astrology—In the De natura rerum—Bede’s sparse science—Bede’s De natura rerum—Divination by thunder—Riddles of Aldhelm—Gregory’s Dialogues—Signs and wonders performed by saints—More monkish miracles—A monastic snake charmer—Basilius the magician—A demon salad—Incantations in Old Irish—The Fili.

Aridity of early medieval learning.

The erudite fortitude of students of the Merovingian period commands our admiration, but sometimes inclines us to wonder whether anyone without a somewhat dry-as-dust constitution could penetrate far or tarry long in the desert of early medieval Latin learning without perishing of intellectual thirst. As a rule the writings of the time show no originality whatever, and least of all any scientific investigation; they are of value merely as an indication of what past books men still read and what parts of past science they still possessed some interest in. Under the same category of condemnation may be placed most of the Carolingian period so far as our investigation is concerned. We shall therefore traverse rapidly this period of sparse scientific productivity and shall be doing it ample justice, if from its meager list of writers we select for consideration Boethius of Italy at the opening of the sixth century and Gregory the Great at its close, Isidore of Spain at the opening of the[Pg 617] seventh century, and Bede in England at the beginning of the eighth century, with some brief allusion to the riddles of Aldhelm, bishop of Sherborne, and to Old Irish literature. We should gain little or nothing by adding to the list Alcuin at the close of the eighth century and Rabanus Maurus in the ninth century, although it may be noted now that later medieval writers cite Rabanus for statements which I have failed to find in his printed works. In general it may be said that the writers whom we shall consider are those during the period who are most cited by the later medieval authors.

The impressive determination of students during the Merovingian period deserves our respect, but it also makes us question whether anyone without a somewhat dry personality could really dive deep into the early medieval Latin learning without feeling mentally starved. Generally, the writings from that time show no originality at all, especially not in terms of scientific inquiry; they are valuable only as a reflection of the past books people still read and what aspects of past science still intrigued them. Most of the Carolingian period can be criticized in the same way for our purposes. Therefore, we will quickly cover this period of limited scientific output and do it justice by focusing on the few writers worth mentioning: Boethius of Italy at the start of the sixth century, Gregory the Great at the end of that century, Isidore of Spain at the beginning of the seventh century, and Bede in England at the start of the eighth century, along with brief references to the riddles of Aldhelm, bishop of Sherborne, and some Old Irish literature. We wouldn't gain much by adding Alcuin at the end of the eighth century and Rabanus Maurus in the ninth century, although it's worth noting that later medieval writers refer to Rabanus for statements I haven't been able to find in his published works. Generally, the writers we will examine are those who are most frequently cited by later medieval authors.

Historic importance of The Consolation of Philosophy.

Of the distinguished family and political career of Boethius who lived from about 480 to 524 A. D., and his final exile, imprisonment, and execution by Theodoric the East Goth, we need scarcely speak here. Our concern is with his little book, The Consolation of Philosophy, one of those memorable writings which, like The City of God of Augustine, stand out as historical landmarks and seem to have been written on the right subject by the right man at the most dramatic moment. The timely appearance of such works, produced in both these cases not under the stimulus of triumphant victory but the sting of bitter defeat, is nevertheless perhaps less surprising than is their subsequent preservation and enormous influence. We often are alternately amused and amazed by the mistakes concerning historical and chronological detail found in medieval writers. Yet medieval readers showed considerable appreciation of the course of history, of its fundamental tendencies, and of its crucial moments by the works which they included in their meager libraries.

Of the prominent family and political career of Boethius, who lived from around 480 to 524 A.D., and his final exile, imprisonment, and execution by Theodoric the East Goth, we don’t need to dwell on here. Our focus is on his short book, The Consolation of Philosophy, one of those memorable writings that, like Augustine's The City of God, stand out as historical landmarks and seem to have been written on the right subject by the right person at the most dramatic moment. The timely appearance of such works, produced in both cases not from the thrill of victory but the pain of bitter defeat, is perhaps less surprising than their later preservation and significant influence. We often find ourselves both amused and astonished by the inaccuracies regarding historical and chronological details found in medieval writers. Yet medieval readers demonstrated a substantial understanding of the flow of history, its fundamental trends, and its pivotal moments through the works they included in their limited libraries.

Medieval reading.

But were medieval libraries as meager as we are wont to assume? Bede and Alcuin both tell of the existence of sizeable libraries in England,[2522] and Cassiodorus urged those monks whose duty it was to tend the sick to read a number of standard medical works.[2523] I sometimes wonder if too[Pg 618] much attention has not been given to medieval writing and too little to medieval reading, of which so much medieval writing, in Latin at least, is little more than a reflection. We get their image, faint perhaps and partial; but they had the real object. It has been assumed by some modern scholars that medieval writers had usually not read the works, especially of classical antiquity, which they profess to cite and quote, but relied largely upon anthologies and florilegia. In the case of various later medieval authors we shall have occasion to discuss this question further. For the present I may say that in going through the catalogues of collections of medieval manuscripts I have noticed few florilegia or anthologies from the classics in medieval Latin manuscripts,—perhaps Byzantine ones from Greek literature are more common—and few indeed compared to the number of manuscripts of the old Latin writers themselves. We owe the very preservation of the Latin classics to medieval scribes who copied them in the ninth and tenth centuries; why deny that they read them? Latin florilegia of any sort do not exist in impressive numbers, but other kinds are as often met with as are those from classic poets or prose writers, for instance, selections from the church fathers themselves. On the whole, the impression I have received is that those authors included in florilegia, commonplace books, and other manuscripts made up of miscellaneous extracts, were likewise the authors most read in toto. I am therefore inclined to regard the florilegia as a proof that the authors included were read rather than that they were not. But from extant Latin manuscripts one gets the impression that the whole matter of florilegia is of very slight importance, and that the theory hitherto based upon them is a survival of the prejudice of the classical renaissance against “the dark ages.”

But were medieval libraries really as sparse as we tend to think? Both Bede and Alcuin talk about the existence of sizable libraries in England, and Cassiodorus encouraged those monks who were responsible for caring for the sick to read several key medical texts. I sometimes wonder if we've focused too much on medieval writing and not enough on medieval reading, much of which, at least in Latin, is just a reflection of the actual texts. We get a vague and limited image of them, but they had the real thing. Some modern scholars assume that medieval writers usually hadn’t read the works of classical antiquity they claimed to cite and quote; instead, they relied heavily on anthologies and florilegia. We will have the opportunity to discuss this question further regarding various later medieval authors. For now, I can say that while going through the catalogs of collections of medieval manuscripts, I’ve noticed few florilegia or anthologies of the classics in medieval Latin manuscripts—possibly Byzantine ones from Greek literature are more common—and indeed, few compared to the number of manuscripts of the old Latin writers themselves. The very preservation of Latin classics is thanks to medieval scribes who copied them in the ninth and tenth centuries; why deny that they read them? Latin florilegia of any kind aren’t found in impressive numbers, but other types are just as common as those from classic poets or prose writers, like selections from the church fathers themselves. Overall, the impression I’ve gotten is that those authors included in florilegia, commonplace books, and other manuscripts of miscellaneous extracts were also the authors most read in their entirety. Therefore, I’m inclined to see the florilegia as evidence that the included authors were read, rather than that they weren’t. However, from the surviving Latin manuscripts, it seems that the whole issue of florilegia holds very little importance, and the theory based on them seems to be a leftover prejudice from the classical renaissance against "the dark ages."

Influence of the works of Boethius.

At any rate, however scanty medieval libraries may have been, they were apt to include a copy of The Consolation of Philosophy, and however little read some of their volumes may have been, its pages were certainly well[Pg 619] thumbed. Lists of its commentators, translators, and imitators, and other indications of its vast medieval influence may be found in Peiper’s edition.[2524] Other writings of Boethius were also well known in the middle ages and increased his reputation then. His translations and commentaries upon the Aristotelian logical treatises[2525] are of course of great importance in the history of medieval scholasticism. His translations and adaptations of Greek treatises in arithmetic, geometry, and music occupy a similar place in the history of medieval mathematical studies.[2526] Indeed, his treatise on music is said to have “continued to be the staple requisite for the musical degree at Oxford until far into the eighteenth century.”[2527] The work on the Trinity and some other theological tracts, attributed to Boethius by Cassiodorus and through the middle ages, are now again accepted as genuine by modern scholars and place Boethius’ Christianity beyond question.[2528]

At any rate, no matter how limited medieval libraries might have been, they were likely to have a copy of The Consolation of Philosophy, and even if some of their books weren't read much, its pages were definitely well-thumbed. You can find lists of its commentators, translators, and imitators, along with other signs of its significant medieval influence in Peiper’s edition.[2524] Other works by Boethius were also well-known in the Middle Ages and boosted his reputation at that time. His translations and commentaries on Aristotle’s logical writings[2525] are crucial in the history of medieval scholasticism. His translations and adaptations of Greek texts on arithmetic, geometry, and music hold a similar importance in the history of medieval mathematical studies.[2526] In fact, his treatise on music is said to have “remained the key requirement for the musical degree at Oxford until well into the eighteenth century.”[2527] The work on the Trinity and other theological writings attributed to Boethius by Cassiodorus and throughout the Middle Ages are now recognized as genuine by modern scholars, establishing Boethius’ Christianity as beyond doubt.[2528]

His relation to antiquity and middle ages.

Boethius has often been regarded as a last representative of Roman statesmanship and of classical civilization. His defense of Roman provincials against the greed of the Goths, his stand even unto death against Theodoric on behalf of the rights of the Roman senate and people, his preservation through translation of the learned treatises of expiring antiquity,[Pg 620] and the almost classical Latin style and numerous allusions to pagan mythology of The Consolation of Philosophy:—all these combine to support this view. But the middle ages also made Boethius their own, and several points may be noted in which The Consolation of Philosophy in particular foreshadowed their attitude and profoundly influenced them. Both a Christian and a classicist, both a theologian and a philosopher, Boethius set a standard which subsequent thought was to follow for a long time. The very form of his work, a dialogue part in prose and part in verse, remained a medieval favorite. And the fact that this sixth century author of a work on the Trinity consoled his last hours with a work in which Christ and the Trinity are not mentioned, but where Phoebus is often named and where Philosophy is the author’s sole interlocutor:—this fact, combined with Boethius’ great medieval popularity, gave perpetual license to those medieval writers who chose to discuss philosophy and theology as separate subjects and from distinct points of view. The great medieval influence of Aristotle and Plato, and in particular of the latter’s Timaeus, also is already manifest in The Consolation of Philosophy. Aristotle, it is true, appears to be incorrectly credited by Boethius with the assertion that the eye of the lynx can see through solid objects,[2529] but this ascription of spurious statements to the Stagirite also corresponds to the attribution of entire spurious treatises to him later in the middle ages.

Boethius is often seen as a last representative of Roman leadership and classical civilization. His defense of Roman provincials against the greed of the Goths, his stand to the death against Theodoric for the rights of the Roman senate and people, his preservation of the learned writings of fading antiquity through translation, [Pg 620] and the nearly classical Latin style along with numerous references to pagan mythology in The Consolation of Philosophy:—all these factors support this view. However, the Middle Ages also adopted Boethius, and several aspects of The Consolation of Philosophy especially anticipated their attitudes and significantly influenced them. As both a Christian and a classicist, and as a theologian and philosopher, Boethius set a standard that future thought would follow for a long time. The very format of his work, a dialogue that blends prose and verse, became a favorite in medieval times. Additionally, the fact that this sixth-century author of a work on the Trinity found comfort in a piece where Christ and the Trinity are not mentioned, yet Phoebus is frequently referenced and Philosophy is the only conversational partner:—this, combined with Boethius' immense popularity in the Middle Ages, repeatedly allowed medieval writers to approach philosophy and theology as separate subjects from different perspectives. The significant medieval influence of Aristotle and Plato, particularly of the latter’s Timaeus, is also already evident in The Consolation of Philosophy. It is true that Boethius incorrectly attributes to Aristotle the claim that the eye of the lynx can see through solid objects, [2529] but this misattribution of false statements to Aristotle also parallels the later attribution of entire false treatises to him in the Middle Ages.

Attitude to the stars.

Of the ways in which The Consolation of Philosophy influenced medieval thought that which is most germane to our investigation is its attitude toward the stars and the problem of fate and free will. The heavenly bodies are apparently ever present in Boethius’ thought in this work, and especially in the poetical interludes he keeps mentioning Phoebus, the moon, the universe, the sky, and the starry constellations. Per ardua ad astra was a true saying for those last days in which he solaced his disgrace and pain with philosophy. It is by contemplation of the heavens[Pg 621] that he raises his thought to lofty philosophic reflection; his mind may don swift wings and fly far above earthly things

Of the ways in which The Consolation of Philosophy influenced medieval thought, the most relevant to our investigation is its perspective on the stars and the issue of fate versus free will. The celestial bodies are prominently featured in Boethius' thoughts throughout this work, especially in the poetic interludes where he repeatedly mentions Phoebus, the moon, the universe, the sky, and the starry constellations. Per ardua ad astra was a true saying for those last days when he comforted himself against his disgrace and suffering with philosophy. It is through contemplating the heavens[Pg 621] that he elevates his thoughts to high philosophical reflection; his mind can take swift flight and soar far above earthly concerns.

“Until it reaches starry mansions
And joins paths with Phoebus.”[2530]

He loves to think of God as ruling the universe by perpetual reason and certain order, as sowing stars in the sky, as binding the elements by number, as Himself immovable, yet revolving the spheres and decreeing natural events in a fixed series.[2531] The attitude is like that of the Timaeus and Aristotle’s Metaphysics, closely associating astronomy and theology, favorable to belief in astrology, in support of which later scholastic writers cite Boethius.

He loves to think of God as governing the universe through constant reason and organized patterns, like scattering stars across the sky, binding the elements numerically, being Himself unchanging, yet moving the celestial bodies and determining natural events in a set sequence.[2531] This perspective resembles that found in the Timaeus and Aristotle’s Metaphysics, linking astronomy and theology closely, and supporting a belief in astrology, for which later scholastic writers reference Boethius.

Fate and free will.

We may further note the main points in Boethius’ argument concerning fate and free will, providence and predestination,[2532] which was often cited by later writers. He declares that all generation and change and movement proceed from the divine mind or Providence,[2533] while fate is the regular arrangement inherent in movable objects by which divine providence is realized.[2534] Fate may be exercised through spirits, angelic or daemonic, through the soul or through the aid of all nature or “by the celestial motion of the stars.”[2535] It is with the last that Boethius seems most inclined to identify fati series mobilis. “That series moves sky and stars, harmonizes the elements one with another, and transforms them from one to another.” More than that, “It constrains human fortunes in an indissoluble chain of causes, which, since it starts from the decree of immovable Providence, must needs itself also be immutable.”[2536] Boethius, however, does not believe in a complete fatalism, astrological or otherwise. He holds that nothing escapes[Pg 622] divine providence, to which there is no distinction between past, present, and future.[2537] As the human reason can conceive universals, although sense and imagination are able to deal only with particulars, so the divine mind can foresee the future as well as the present. But there are some things which are under divine providence but which are not subject to fate.[2538] Divine providence imposes no fatal necessity upon the human will, which is free to choose its course.[2539] The world of nature, however, existing without will or reason of its own, conforms absolutely to the fatal series provided for it. As for chance, Boethius agrees with Aristotle’s Physics that there is really no such thing, but that what is commonly ascribed to chance really results from an unexpected coincidence of causes, as when a man plowing a field finds a treasure which another has buried there.[2540] Thus Boethius maintains the co-existence of the fatal series expressed in the stars, divine providence, and human free will, a thesis likely to reassure Christians inclined to astrology who had been somewhat disturbed by the fulminations of the fathers against the genethliaci, just as his constant rhapsodizing over the stars and heavens would lead them to regard the science of the stars as second only to divine worship. Indeed, his position was the usual one in the subsequent middle ages.

We can also highlight the key points in Boethius’ argument about fate and free will, providence and predestination, [2532] which later writers often referenced. He asserts that all generation, change, and movement come from the divine mind or Providence, [2533] while fate is the natural order found in changeable things that realizes divine providence. [2534] Fate may be enacted through spirits, whether angelic or daemonic, through the soul, or through the support of all nature, or "by the celestial movement of the stars." [2535] Boethius seems particularly connected to the idea of fati series mobilis. "That series moves the sky and stars, harmonizes the elements with each other, and transforms them from one form to another." Moreover, "It binds human fortunes in an unbreakable chain of causes, which, since it originates from the decree of immovable Providence, must also be unchangeable." [2536] However, Boethius does not subscribe to total fatalism, whether astrological or otherwise. He believes that nothing escapes divine providence, where there is no difference between past, present, and future. [2537] Just as human reason can understand universals, while sense and imagination deal only with specifics, the divine mind can foresee both the future and the present. Yet, some things fall under divine providence but are not bound by fate. [2538] Divine providence does not impose a fated necessity on human will, which retains the freedom to decide its path. [2539] The natural world, however, which has no will or reason of its own, completely adheres to the predetermined fate laid out for it. Regarding chance, Boethius aligns with Aristotle’s Physics in asserting that true chance doesn’t exist; rather, what is often called chance stems from an unexpected coincidence of causes, as in the case where a man plowing a field uncovers a treasure buried by someone else. [2540] Thus, Boethius maintains that the fatal series expressed in the stars, divine providence, and human free will coexist, a view likely to comfort Christians interested in astrology who had been unsettled by the church fathers' criticisms of the genethliaci, just as his frequent praise of the stars and heavens would lead them to see the study of stars as nearly as important as divine worship. Indeed, his perspective became standard in the following Middle Ages.

Music of the stars and universe.

The stars also come into Boethius’ treatise on music, where one of the three varieties of music is described as mundane, where the music of the spheres is declared to exist although inaudible to us, and where each planet is connected with a musical chord. Plato is quoted as having said, not in vain, that the world soul is compounded of musical harmony, and it is affirmed that the four different and contrary elements could never be united in one system unless some harmony joined them.[2541]

The stars are also part of Boethius’ discussion on music, where one of the three types of music is described as mundane. Here, the music of the spheres is said to exist, even though we can’t hear it, and each planet is linked to a musical chord. Plato is mentioned as having pointed out, not without reason, that the world soul is made up of musical harmony, and it is stated that the four different and opposing elements could never come together in a single system unless some harmony brought them together.[2541]

[Pg 623]

[Pg 623]

Isidore of Seville.

Isidore was born about 560 or 570, became bishop of Seville in 599 or 600, and died in the year 636. Although mention should perhaps be made of his briefer De natura rerum,[2542] a treatise dedicated to King Sisebut who reigned from 612 to 620, Isidore’s chief work from our standpoint is the Etymologiae.[2543] His friend, bishop Braulio, writing after Isidore’s death, says that he had left unfinished the copy of this work which he made at his request, but this was apparently a second edition, since in a letter written to Isidore probably in 630, Braulio speaks of copies as already in circulation, although he describes their text as corrupt and abbreviated. But apparently the work had been composed seven years before this.[2544] The Etymologies was undoubtedly a work of great importance and influence in the middle ages, but one should not be led, as some writers have been, into exaggerated praise of Isidore’s erudition on this account.[2545] For the work’s importance consists chiefly in showing how scanty was the knowledge of the early middle ages. Its influence also would seem not to have been entirely beneficial, since writers continued to cite it as an authority as late as the thirteenth century, when it might have been expected to have outlived its usefulness. We suspect that it proved too handy and convenient and tended to encourage intellectual laziness and stagnation more than any anthology of literary quotations did. Arevalus listed ten[Pg 624] printed editions of it before 1527, showing that it was as popular in the time of the Renaissance as in the middle ages.

Isidore was born around 560 or 570, became the bishop of Seville in 599 or 600, and died in 636. While we should perhaps also mention his shorter work De natura rerum,[2542] which was dedicated to King Sisebut who ruled from 612 to 620, Isidore’s main work from our perspective is the Etymologiae.[2543] His friend, Bishop Braulio, writing after Isidore’s death, notes that he had left unfinished the copy of this work that he made at Braulio's request, but this seems to be a second edition, since in a letter written to Isidore probably in 630, Braulio mentions that copies were already in circulation, although he describes their text as corrupt and shortened. However, it appears that the work had been completed seven years before this.[2544] The Etymologies was definitely a significant and influential work during the Middle Ages, but we shouldn't be misled, as some writers have been, into overly praising Isidore’s scholarship for this reason.[2545] The work's significance mainly lies in demonstrating how limited the knowledge was during the early Middle Ages. Its influence does not seem to have been entirely positive either, since writers continued to reference it as an authority even as late as the thirteenth century, when it would have been expected to have outlived its relevance. We suspect that it became too convenient and encouraged intellectual laziness and stagnation more than any anthology of literary quotations did. Arevalus listed ten[Pg 624] printed editions of it before 1527, showing that it was just as popular during the Renaissance as it was in the Middle Ages.

Method of the Etymologies.

The Etymologies is little more than a dictionary, in which words are not listed alphabetically but under subjects with an average of from one to a half dozen lines of derivation and definition for each term. The method is, as Brehaut well says, “to treat each subject by ... defining the terms belonging to it.”[2546] Pursuing this method, Isidore treats of various arts and sciences, human interests and natural phenomena: the seven liberal arts, medicine, and law; chronology and bibliography; the church, religion, and theology; the state and family, physiology, zoology, botany, mineralogy, geography, and astronomy; architecture and agriculture; war and sport; arms and armor; ships and costume and various utensils of domestic life. Such is the classification which later medieval writers were to adopt or adapt rather than the arrangement followed in Pliny’s Natural History. Isidore’s association of words and definitions under topics makes an approach, at least, to the articles of encyclopedias: sometimes there is a brief discussion of the general topic before the particular terms and names are considered; sometimes there are chronological tables, family trees, or lists of signs and abbreviations. In short, Isidore forms a connecting link between Pliny and the encyclopedists of the thirteenth century.

The Etymologies is basically a dictionary, where words aren’t listed alphabetically but instead categorized by subjects, each with an average of one to six lines explaining their derivation and meaning. As Brehaut points out, the method is “to treat each subject by ... defining the terms belonging to it.”[2546] Following this approach, Isidore discusses various arts and sciences, human interests, and natural phenomena: the seven liberal arts, medicine, and law; chronology and bibliography; the church, religion, and theology; the state and family, physiology, zoology, botany, mineralogy, geography, and astronomy; architecture and agriculture; war and sports; arms and armor; ships and clothing, along with different household items. This classification was later adopted or adapted by medieval writers rather than the arrangement used in Pliny’s Natural History. Isidore’s grouping of words and definitions by topic makes a move towards what we see in encyclopedias: sometimes there is a brief exploration of the general topic before diving into the specific terms and names; at other times, there are chronological tables, family trees, or lists of signs and abbreviations. In summary, Isidore serves as a link between Pliny and the encyclopedists of the thirteenth century.

Its sources.

In a prefatory word to Braulio Isidore describes the Etymologies as a collection made from his recollection and notes of old authors,[2547] of whom he cites a large number in the course of the work. It has been suspected that some of these writers were known to Isidore only at second or third hand; at any rate he has not made a very discriminating selection from their works and he has been accused more than once of not clearly understanding what he tried to abridge. On the other hand, Isidore seems to me to display a notable[Pg 625] power of brief generalization, of terse expression and telling use of words. We should not have to go back to the middle ages for textbook writers who have written more and said less. This power of condensed expression probably accounts for Isidore’s being so much cited. Many of the derivations proposed for words are so patently absurd that we would fain ascribe them to Isidore’s own perverse ingenuity, but it is doubtful if he possessed even that much originality, and they are probably all taken from classical grammarians such as Varro.[2548] Isidore, however, still displays a considerable knowledge of the Greek language. And again it may be said in excuse of Isidore and his sources that the absurd etymologies are usually proposed in the case of words whose derivation is still problematic.

In an introductory note, Braulio describes the Etymologies as a collection based on his memories and notes from ancient authors, of whom he references many throughout the text. There are suspicions that Isidore only knew some of these writers through second or third-hand sources; regardless, he hasn’t made a very careful selection from their works and has been criticized more than once for not fully understanding what he attempted to summarize. On the other hand, Isidore shows a remarkable ability for concise generalization, succinct expression, and effective word choice. We shouldn’t need to look back to the Middle Ages for textbook authors who have written more yet said less. This skill in condensed expression likely explains why Isidore is frequently cited. Many of the word derivations he suggests are so obviously absurd that we might attribute them to his own strange creativity, but it's questionable whether he had even that much originality, and they are probably all taken from classical grammarians like Varro. However, Isidore still demonstrates significant knowledge of the Greek language. Additionally, it can be noted in Isidore’s defense, as well as that of his sources, that the ridiculous etymologies often arise for words with uncertain origins.

In the passages dealing with natural phenomena and science Isidore borrows chiefly from Pliny and Solinus, sometimes from Dioscorides, giving us a faint adumbration of their much fuller confusion of science and superstition. Occasionally bits of information or misinformation are borrowed through the medium of the church fathers. A work of Galen, for instance, is cited[2549] through the letter of Jerome to Furia against widows remarrying. Galen, indeed, is seldom mentioned by Isidore who draws his unusually brief fourth book on medicine chiefly from Caelius Aurelianus.[2550]

In the sections about natural phenomena and science, Isidore mainly references Pliny and Solinus, and occasionally Dioscorides, giving us a vague glimpse of their much deeper mix of science and superstition. Sometimes bits of information or misinformation are picked up through the writings of the church fathers. For example, a work by Galen is mentioned through Jerome's letter to Furia discussing widows remarrying. In fact, Isidore rarely mentions Galen and bases his unusually brief fourth book on medicine mainly on Caelius Aurelianus.

Natural marvels.

In his treatment of things in nature Isidore seldom gives their medicinal properties as Pliny does, and this reduces correspondingly the amount of space devoted to marvelous virtues. Indeed, of the twenty books of the Etymologies but one is devoted to animals other than man, one to vegetation which is combined in the same book with agriculture, and one to metals and minerals. The book on animals is the longest and is subdivided under the topics of domestic[Pg 626] animals, wild beasts, minute animals, serpents, worms, fish, birds, and minute flying creatures. Isidore also tends to ascribe more marvelous virtues to animals than to plants or stones. From Pliny and Solinus are repeated the tales of the basilisk, echeneis, and the like,[2551] while Augustine’s Commentary on the Psalms is cited for the story of the asp resisting the incantations of its charmers by laying one ear to the ground and stopping up the other ear with the end of its tail.[2552] On the other hand, Isidore omits Pliny’s superstitious assertions concerning the river tortoise and gives only his criticism that the statement that ships move more slowly if they have the foot of a tortoise aboard is incredible.[2553] Even in the books on minerals and vegetation we still hear of animal marvels:[2554] how the coloring matter, cinnabar, is composed of the blood shed by the dragon in its death struggle with the elephant, how the fiercest bulls grow tame under the Egyptian fig-tree, how swallows restore the sight of their young with the swallow-wort, or of the use of fennel and rue by the snake and weasel respectively, the former tasting fennel to enable him to shed his old skin, and the latter eating rue to make him immune from venom in fighting the snake. All these items, too, are from Pliny.

In his exploration of nature, Isidore rarely mentions their medicinal properties like Pliny does, which results in less space dedicated to miraculous qualities. In fact, out of the twenty books of the Etymologies, only one focuses on animals besides humans, one on plants combined with agriculture, and one on metals and minerals. The book about animals is the longest and is divided into sections on domestic animals, wild beasts, tiny creatures, snakes, worms, fish, birds, and small flying animals. Isidore tends to attribute more miraculous qualities to animals than to plants or stones. He repeats stories from Pliny and Solinus about creatures like the basilisk and echeneis, while Augustine’s Commentary on the Psalms is referenced for the tale of the asp avoiding its charmers by pressing one ear to the ground and blocking the other with its tail. On the other hand, Isidore leaves out Pliny’s superstitions regarding the river tortoise and only critiques the claim that ships travel slower if a tortoise's foot is on board, calling it unbelievable. Even in the sections about minerals and plants, there are still animal wonders mentioned: how the pigment cinnabar is supposedly made from the blood spilled by a dragon during its fight with an elephant, how the fiercest bulls become gentle under the Egyptian fig tree, how swallows restore their young's sight with swallow-wort, and how snakes and weasels use fennel and rue, respectively, with the former eating fennel to help shed its skin and the latter consuming rue to become immune to venom while fighting snakes. All these details are also sourced from Pliny.

Isidore is rather less hospitable to superstition than Pliny.

But on the whole I should estimate that Isidore contains less superstitious matter even proportionally to his meager content than Pliny does in connection with the virtues of animals, plants, and stones. In discussing plants he says nothing of ceremonial plucking of them and he contains practically no traces of agricultural magic. He describes as a superstition of the Gentiles the notion that the herb scylla, suspended whole at the threshold, drives away all evils.[2555] He mentions the use of mandragora as an anaesthetic in surgical operations, and remarks that its root is of human form, but says nothing of its applications in magic.[2556] In his discussion of stones he repeats after Pliny and Solinus[Pg 627] the marvelous virtues ascribed to a number of them, but follows Pliny’s method of making the magicians responsible for these assertions or of inserting a word of caution such as “if this is to be believed” with each statement. Finally he introduces together a number of cases of marvelous powers ascribed to stones with the introduction, “There are certain gems employed by the Gentiles in their superstitions.”[2557]

But overall, I would say that Isidore includes less superstitious content, even relative to his limited material, than Pliny does regarding the virtues of animals, plants, and stones. When he talks about plants, he doesn’t mention any ceremonial methods of picking them and has almost no traces of agricultural magic. He describes the belief that the herb scylla, hung whole at the doorway, wards off all evil as a superstition of the Gentiles. He notes the use of mandragora as an anesthetic in surgical procedures and points out that its root resembles a human form, but he doesn’t discuss its uses in magic. In his section on stones, he echoes Pliny and Solinus[Pg 627] about the fantastic properties attributed to several of them, but he follows Pliny’s approach of holding the magicians accountable for these claims or adding a caution like “if this is to be believed” to each statement. Finally, he presents several instances of extraordinary powers ascribed to stones, beginning with, “There are certain gems used by the Gentiles in their superstitions.”

Portents.

Isidore lists a number of mythical monsters as well as cases of portentous births in the third chapter, De portentis, of his eleventh book. He there affirms that God sometimes wishes to signify future events by means of monstrous births as well as by dreams and oracles, and declares that this “has been proved by numerous experiences.”[2558]

Isidore lists several mythical monsters and notable cases of unusual births in the third chapter, De portentis, of his eleventh book. He states that God sometimes wants to indicate future events through extraordinary births, dreams, and oracles, and claims that this "has been proven by many experiences."[2558]

Words and numbers.

Brehaut is impressed by Isidore’s “confidence in words,” which he thinks “really amounted to a belief, strong though perhaps somewhat inarticulate, that words were transcendental entities.”[2559] Isidore’s faith in the power of words does not seem, however, to have led him to recommend the use of any incantations; he was content with etymologies and allegorical interpretation. He was also a great believer in the mystic significance of numbers and wrote a separate treatise upon those numbers which occur in the sacred Scriptures. In the Etymologies, too, he more than once dwells upon the perfection of certain numbers. We have already heard how perfect most of the numbers up to twelve are, but this is our first opportunity to hear the Pythagorean method applied to the number twenty-two. However, Isidore is not the first to do this; he is, indeed, simply quoting one of the fathers, Epiphanius.[2560] “The modius is so-called because it is of perfect mode. For this measure contains forty-four pounds, that is, twenty-two sextarii. And the reason for this number is that in the beginning God performed twenty-two works. For on the first day He made[Pg 628] seven works, namely, unformed matter, angels, light, the upper heavens, earth, water, and air. On the second day only one work, the firmament. On the third day four things: the seas, seeds, grass, and trees. On the fourth day three things: sun and moon and stars. On the fifth day three: fish and aquatic reptiles and flying creatures. On the sixth day four: beasts, domestic animals, land reptiles, and man. And all twenty-two kinds were made in six days.[2561] And there are twenty-two generations from Adam to Jacob.... And twenty-two books of the Old Testament.... And there are twenty-two letters from which the doctrine of the divine law is composed. Therefore in accordance with these examples the modius of twenty-two sextarii was established by Moses following the measure of sacred law. And although various peoples have added something to or ignorantly subtracted something from its weight, it is divinely preserved among the Hebrews for such reasons.” With such mental magic and pious “arithmetic,” as Isidore’s friend Braulio called it, might the Christian attempt to sate the inherited thirst within him for the operative magic and pagan divination in which his conscience and church no longer allowed him to indulge.

Brehaut is struck by Isidore’s “confidence in words,” which he believes reflects a strong, though perhaps somewhat unclear, conviction that words are transcendental entities. Isidore’s faith in the power of words doesn’t seem to have led him to suggest using any incantations; he was satisfied with etymologies and symbolic interpretations. He was also a strong believer in the mystical significance of numbers and wrote a separate treatise on the numbers found in the sacred Scriptures. In the Etymologies, he frequently highlights the perfection of certain numbers. We’ve already learned how perfect most numbers up to twelve are, but this is our first chance to see the Pythagorean method applied to the number twenty-two. However, Isidore is not the first to do this; he is simply quoting one of the church fathers, Epiphanius. “The modius is called so because it is of perfect measure. This measure contains forty-four pounds, which is twenty-two sextarii. The reason for this number is that in the beginning God did twenty-two works. On the first day, He created seven things: unformed matter, angels, light, the upper heavens, earth, water, and air. On the second day, just one work: the firmament. On the third day, four things: the seas, seeds, grass, and trees. On the fourth day, three things: the sun, moon, and stars. On the fifth day, three: fish, aquatic reptiles, and flying creatures. On the sixth day, four: beasts, domestic animals, land reptiles, and man. All twenty-two kinds were made in six days. And there are twenty-two generations from Adam to Jacob.... And twenty-two books in the Old Testament.... And twenty-two letters that form the basis of the divine law. Therefore, following these examples, the modius of twenty-two sextarii was set by Moses according to the sacred law. And even though various peoples have added to or mistakenly removed something from its weight, it is divinely preserved among the Hebrews for these reasons.” With such mental magic and pious “arithmetic,” as Isidore’s friend Braulio called it, might the Christian try to quench the inherited thirst within for the operative magic and pagan divination that his conscience and church no longer permitted him to pursue.

History of magic.

Isidore’s chapter on the Magi or magicians, which occurs in his eighth book on the church and divers sects, is a notable one, of whose great future influence we shall presently speak. His own borrowing here is only in small part from Pliny’s famous passage on the same theme. On such a subject Isidore naturally has recourse mainly to Christian writers: Augustine, Jerome, Lactantius, Tertullian. From the occasional similarity of his wording to these authors it seems fairly certain that his account is a patchwork from their works, and the context is too Christian to have been drawn in toto from some Roman encyclopedist now lost to us. Perhaps the most noteworthy point about Isidore’s chapter is that he has made magic and magicians the general and[Pg 629] inclusive head under which he presently lists various other minor occult arts and their practitioners for separate definition. But first we have a longer discussion, though long only by comparison, of magic in general. Its history is sketched; Zoroaster and Democritus, as in Pliny, are mentioned as its founders, but it is not forgotten that the bad angels were really responsible for its dissemination. From the first Isidore identifies magic and divination; after stating that the magic arts abounded among the Assyrians, he quotes a passage from Lucan which speaks of the prevalence of liver divination, augury, divination from thunder, and astrology in Assyria. Also the magic arts are said to have prevailed over the whole world for many centuries through their prediction of the future and invocation of the dead. Brief allusion is further made to Moses and Pharaoh’s magicians, to the invocation of Samuel by the witch of Endor, to Circe and the comrades of Ulysses, and to several other passages in classical literature anent magic.

Isidore’s chapter on the Magi or magicians, found in his eighth book on the church and various sects, is significant, and we will discuss its considerable future impact shortly. His references here are only partly drawn from Pliny’s well-known passage on the same subject. On this topic, Isidore primarily relies on Christian writers: Augustine, Jerome, Lactantius, and Tertullian. The occasional similarity in his wording to these authors suggests that his account is a collage of their works, and the context is too Christian to have been taken in toto from some Roman encyclopedist now lost to us. One of the most notable aspects of Isidore’s chapter is that he has made magic and magicians the general and inclusive category under which he lists various other minor occult practices and their practitioners for separate definition. But first, we have a longer discussion, though it’s only lengthy by comparison, about magic in general. Its history is outlined; Zoroaster and Democritus, as mentioned by Pliny, are named as its founders, but it is also noted that evil angels were really responsible for spreading it. From the beginning, Isidore connects magic and divination; after stating that magical practices were widespread among the Assyrians, he quotes a passage from Lucan that discusses the common practice of liver divination, augury, divination by thunder, and astrology in Assyria. He also notes that magical practices dominated the world for many centuries due to their ability to predict the future and summon the dead. Brief references are also made to Moses and Pharaoh’s magicians, to the witch of Endor invoking Samuel, to Circe and Ulysses’ companions, and to various other instances in classical literature regarding magic.

Definition of magic.

Next comes a formal definition of the Magi. They are “those who are popularly called malefici or sorcerers on account of the magnitude (a characteristic bit of derivation) of their crimes. They agitate the elements, disturb men’s minds, and slay merely by force of incantation without any poisoned draught. Hence Lucan writes, ‘The mind, though polluted by no venom of poisoned draught, perishes by enchantment.’[2562] For, summoning demons, they dare to work their magic so that anyone may kill his enemies by evil arts. They also use blood and victims and sometimes corpses.“ After this very unfavorable, although sufficiently credulous, definition of magic, which is represented as seeking the worst ends by the worst means, Isidore goes on to list and briefly define a number of subordinate or kindred occult arts. First come necromancers; then hydromancy, geomancy, aeromancy, and pyromancy; next diviners, those employing incantations, arioli, aruspices, augurs, auspices, pythones, astrologers and their cognates, the genethliaci and mathematici,[Pg 630] who as Isidore notes are spoken of in the Gospel as Magi, and horoscopi. ”Sortilegi are those who profess the science of divination under the pretended guise of religion through certain devices called sortes sanctorum and predict by inspection of certain scriptures.” Salisatores are those who predict from the jerks of their limbs. To this list of magic arts Isidore adds in the words of Augustine all ligatures and suspensions, incantations and characters, which the art of medicine condemns and which are simply the work of the devil. With mention of the origin of augury among the Phrygians, the discovery of praestigium which deceives the eye by Mercury, and the revelation of aruspicina by Tagus to the Etruscans, Isidore closes the chapter. Some of its items will be found again in his De differentiis verborum,[2563] listed under the appropriate letters of the alphabet. It may also be noted that he briefly treats of transformations worked by magic in the fourth chapter of the eleventh book of the Etymologies.

Next comes a formal definition of the Magi. They are “those who are commonly referred to as malefici or sorcerers due to the severity (a telling aspect of derivation) of their crimes. They stir up the elements, disrupt people’s minds, and kill merely by the power of spells without any poisonous potion. Hence, Lucan writes, ‘The mind, even when not tainted by the venom of a poisoned draught, is destroyed by enchantment.’ [2562] For, by summoning demons, they dare to practice their magic so that anyone can eliminate their enemies through malevolent means. They also use blood and sacrifices, and sometimes even corpses.” After this very negative, though quite credulous, definition of magic, which is portrayed as working towards the worst ends by the worst means, Isidore proceeds to list and briefly define several related occult practices. First are the necromancers; then hydromancy, geomancy, aeromancy, and pyromancy; next, diviners, those who use incantations, arioli, aruspices, augurs, auspices, pythones, astrologers and their related fields, the genethliaci and mathematici, [Pg 630] who, as Isidore notes, are referred to in the Gospel as Magi and horoscopi.” Sortilegi are those who claim to practice divination under the false pretense of religion using certain methods called sortes sanctorum and predict by examining certain scriptures.” Salisatores are those who prophesy based on the movements of their limbs. To this list of magical practices, Isidore adds, in the words of Augustine, all ligatures and suspensions, incantations and symbols, which the art of medicine condemns as merely the work of the devil. Mentioning the origins of augury among the Phrygians, the discovery of praestigium which deceives the eye by Mercury, and the revelation of aruspicina by Tagus to the Etruscans, Isidore concludes the chapter. Some of these items will be revisited in his De differentiis verborum, [2563] listed under the relevant letters of the alphabet. It is also worth noting that he briefly discusses transformations performed by magic in the fourth chapter of the eleventh book of the Etymologies.

Future influence of Isidore’s account of magic.

We turn to the future influence of this account of magic which seems to have been first patched together by Isidore. Juiceless as it is, it seems to have become a sort of stock or stereotyped treatment of the subject with succeeding Christian writers down into the twelfth century. Somewhat altered by omission of poetical quotations or the insertion of transitional sentences, it was otherwise copied almost word for word by Rabanus Maurus (about 784 to 856), in his De consanguineorum nuptiis et de magorum praestigiis falsisque divinationibus tractatus, and by Burchard of Worms and Ivo of Chartres (died 1115) in their respective collections of Decreta, while Hincmar of Rheims in his De divortio Lotharii et Tetbergae copied it with more omissions.[2564] It was also in substance retained in the Decretum of[Pg 631] Gratian in the twelfth century, when, too, Hugh of St. Victor probably made use of it and John of Salisbury made it the basis of his fuller discussion of the subject. Isidore’s account of magic, like his discussion of many other topics, sounds as if he had ceased thinking on the subject, and it must have meant still less to those who copied it. John of Salisbury is the first of them to put any life into the subject and give us any assurance that such arts were still practiced in his day. We have, however, other evidence that magic continued to be practiced in the interval. And such practices as the sortes sanctorum, though included in Isidore’s[Pg 632] stock definition of magic, were probably not generally regarded as reprehensible.[2565]

We look at how this account of magic, which seems to have first been put together by Isidore, influenced the future. Although it lacks depth, it appears to have become a standard treatment on the subject for later Christian writers all the way into the twelfth century. Somewhat changed through the removal of poetic quotes or the addition of transitional sentences, it was otherwise copied almost verbatim by Rabanus Maurus (circa 784 to 856) in his De consanguineorum nuptiis et de magorum praestigiis falsisque divinationibus tractatus, and by Burchard of Worms and Ivo of Chartres (who died in 1115) in their respective collections of Decreta, while Hincmar of Rheims in his De divortio Lotharii et Tetbergae copied it with more omissions.[2564] It was also substantially retained in the Decretum of [Pg 631] Gratian in the twelfth century, during which Hugh of St. Victor likely made use of it, and John of Salisbury used it as the foundation for his more detailed discussion of the topic. Isidore’s account of magic, like his discussions on many other subjects, sounds like he stopped thinking critically about it, and it must have meant even less to those who copied it. John of Salisbury is the first to add any life to the topic and assure us that such practices were still in use during his time. However, we have other evidence that magic continued to be practiced in between. Practices like the sortes sanctorum, while included in Isidore’s[Pg 632] basic definition of magic, were probably not widely seen as wrong.[2565]

Attitude to astrology.

Isidore’s repetition of the views of the fathers concerning demons is so brief and trite[2566] that we need not further notice it, but turn to his attitude toward astrology. We have just heard him associate astrologers with practitioners of the magic arts, but in his third book in discussing the quadrivium he states that astrology is only partly superstitious and partly a natural science. The superstitious variety is that pursued by the mathematici who augur the future from the stars, assign the parts of the soul and body to the signs of the zodiac, and try to predict the nativities and characters of men from the course of the stars. Such superstitions “are without doubt contrary to our faith; Christians should so ignore them that they shall not even appear to have been written.” Mathesis, or the attempt to predict future events from the stars, is denounced, according to Isidore, “not only by doctors of the Christian religion but also of the Gentiles,—Plato, Aristotle, and others.” Isidore also states that there is a distinction between astronomy and astrology, but what it is, especially between astronomy and natural astrology, he fails to elucidate.[2567]

Isidore’s repetition of the views of the fathers about demons is so brief and cliché[2566] that we don’t need to discuss it further and can instead focus on his stance toward astrology. He has just linked astrologers with practitioners of magic, but in his third book, when discussing the quadrivium, he claims that astrology is partly superstitious and partly a natural science. The superstitious aspect is practiced by the mathematici, who predict the future based on the stars, assign different parts of the soul and body to the zodiac signs, and attempt to determine people’s personalities and destinies based on celestial patterns. Such superstitions “are undoubtedly contrary to our faith; Christians should ignore them entirely so that they do not even seem to have been written.” Mathesis, or the attempt to foresee future events by observing the stars, is condemned, according to Isidore, “not only by Christian scholars but also by Gentiles—Plato, Aristotle, and others.” Isidore also mentions a distinction between astronomy and astrology, but he doesn’t clarify what that distinction is, especially regarding astronomy and natural astrology.[2567]

In the De natura rerum.

In the preface to his De natura rerum, which deals chiefly with astronomical and meteorological phenomena, Isidore asserts that “it is not superstitious science to know the nature of these things, if only they are considered from the standpoint of sane and sober doctrine.” He also states that his treatise is a brief sketch of what has been written by the men of old and especially in the works of Catholics. In it some of the stock questions which gave difficulty to Christian scientists are briefly discussed, for instance, “Concerning the waters which are above the heavens,” and “Whether the stars have souls?”[2568] Isidore rejects as “absurd[Pg 633] fictions” imagined by the stupidity of the Gentiles their naming the days of the week from the planets, “because by the same they thought that some effect was produced in themselves, saying that from the sun they received the spirit, from the moon the body, from Mercury speech and wisdom, from Venus pleasure, from Mars ardor, from Jupiter temperance, from Saturn slowness.”[2569] Yet later in the same treatise we find him saying that everything in nature grows and increases according to the waxing and waning of the moon.[2570] Moreover, he calls Saturn a cold star and explains that the planets are called errantia, not because they wander themselves but because they cause men to err.[2571] He also describes man as a microcosm.[2572] Like most ecclesiastical writers, no matter how hostile they may be to astrologers, he is ready to assert that comets signify political revolutions, wars, and pestilences.[2573] In the Etymologies he not only attributes racial and temperamental differences among the peoples of different regions to “force of the star”[2574] and “diversity of the sky,”[2575] phrases which seem to imply astrological influence rather than the mere influence of climate in our sense. He also encourages astrological medicine when he says that the doctor should know astronomy, since human bodies change with the qualities of the stars and the change of times.[2576] Isidore might as well have taken the planets as signs in the astrological sense as have ascribed to them the absurd allegorical significance in passages of Scripture that he did. He states that the moon is sometimes to be taken as a symbol of this world, sometimes as the church, which is illuminated by Christ as the moon receives its light from the sun, and which has seven meritorious graces corresponding to the seven forms of the moon.[2577]

In the preface to his De natura rerum, which focuses mainly on astronomical and meteorological events, Isidore claims that “it’s not considered superstitious knowledge to understand the nature of these things, as long as they’re viewed from a rational and sensible perspective.” He mentions that his work is a brief overview of what has been previously written by earlier scholars, especially the Catholic authors. He discusses some common questions that have puzzled Christian scientists, such as “About the waters that are above the heavens,” and “Do the stars have souls?”[2568] Isidore dismisses as “absurd[Pg 633] fictions” created by the ignorance of pagans their practice of naming the days of the week after the planets, “because they believed that it affected them personally, claiming that they received spirit from the sun, body from the moon, speech and wisdom from Mercury, pleasure from Venus, passion from Mars, moderation from Jupiter, and slowness from Saturn.”[2569] Yet later in the same work, he observes that everything in nature grows and changes according to the phases of the moon.[2570] Furthermore, he describes Saturn as a cold star and clarifies that the planets are known as errantia, not because they wander themselves but because they lead people to error.[2571] He also characterizes man as a microcosm.[2572] Like many religious writers, regardless of their opposition to astrologers, he readily states that comets indicate political upheavals, wars, and plagues.[2573] In the Etymologies, he not only attributes racial and temperament differences among various peoples to the “influence of the stars”[2574] and “divergent skies,”[2575] phrases that seem to suggest astrological influence rather than just climate effects. He also promotes the idea of astrological medicine by asserting that doctors should understand astronomy, as human bodies are affected by the qualities of the stars and the changes in time.[2576] Isidore could as easily have accepted the planets as astrological signs rather than assigning them the nonsensical allegorical meanings he does in Scripture. He states that the moon can sometimes symbolize this world, and at other times represent the church, which is illuminated by Christ, just as the moon receives its light from the sun, and which possesses seven graces corresponding to the seven phases of the moon.[2577]

[Pg 634]

[Pg 634]

Bede’s scanty science.

The scientific acquisitions of Bede have too often been referred to in exaggerated terms. Sharon Turner said of him, “He collected and taught more natural truths with fewer errors than any Roman book on the same subjects had accomplished. Thus his work displays an advance, not a retrogradation of human knowledge; and from its judicious selection and concentration of the best natural philosophy of the Roman Empire it does high credit to the Anglo-Saxon good sense.”[2578] Dr. R. L. Poole more moderately says of Bede, “He shows an extent of knowledge in classical literature and natural science entirely unrivalled in his own day and probably not surpassed for many generations to come.”[2579] Bede perhaps knew more natural science than anyone else of his time, but if so, the others must have known practically nothing; his knowledge can in no sense be called extensive. As a matter of fact, we have evidence that his extremely brief and elementary treatises in this field were not full enough to satisfy even his contemporaries. In the preface to his De temporum ratione[2580] he says that previously he had composed two treatises, De natura rerum and De ratione temporum, in brief style as he thought fitting for pupils, but that when he began to teach them to some of the brethren, they objected that they were reduced to a much briefer form than they wished, especially the De temporibus, which Bede now proceeds to revise and amplify. It is noteworthy that in order to fulfill the monks’ desire for a fuller treatment of the subject he found it necessary to do some further reading in the fathers. In addition to Bede’s own statement of his aim, the frequency with which we find manuscripts of early date[2581] of the De natura rerum and[Pg 635] De temporibus suggests that they were employed as text-books in the monastic schools of the early middle ages. As the Carolingian poet expressed it,

The scientific knowledge of Bede has often been described in exaggerated ways. Sharon Turner remarked, “He gathered and taught more natural truths with fewer mistakes than any Roman book on the same topics managed to do. Therefore, his work represents progress, not a decline in human knowledge; and because of its careful selection and focus on the best natural philosophy of the Roman Empire, it reflects great credit on the common sense of the Anglo-Saxons.”[2578] Dr. R. L. Poole more moderately states about Bede, “He shows an unmatched breadth of knowledge in classical literature and natural science during his time and likely not surpassed for many generations.”[2579] Bede may have understood more natural science than anyone else of his era, but if that's true, it means everyone else must have known almost nothing; his knowledge certainly cannot be called extensive. In fact, we have evidence that his very brief and basic writings in this area were not detailed enough to satisfy even his contemporaries. In the preface to his De temporum ratione[2580], he mentions he had previously written two treatises, De natura rerum and De ratione temporum, in a concise manner as he thought appropriate for students, but when he began teaching them to some of the brethren, they complained that they were too short, especially the De temporibus, which Bede now seeks to revise and expand. It's interesting that to meet the monks’ request for a more comprehensive discussion of the subject, he found it necessary to do some additional reading of the church fathers. Besides Bede’s own explanation of his goal, the frequency with which we find early manuscripts[2581] of the De natura rerum and De temporibus suggests that they were used as textbooks in the monastic schools of the early Middle Ages. As the Carolingian poet put it,

Beda dei famulus nostri didasculus evi
Falce pia sophie veterum sata lata peragrans.
Bede’s De natura rerum.

Of Bede’s Hexaemeron we spoke in an earlier chapter. His chief extant genuine scientific treatise is the aforesaid De natura rerum,[2582] a very curtailed discussion of astronomy and meteorology. It is very similar to Isidore’s treatise of the same title, but is even briefer, omitting for the most part the mention of authorities and the Biblical quotations and allegorical applications which make up a considerable portion of Isidore’s brief work. One of the few authorities whom Bede does cite is Pliny in a discussion of the circles of the planets.[2583] Like Isidore he accepts comets as signs of war and political change, of tempests and pestilence.[2584] He also states that the air is inhabited by evil spirits who there await the worse torments of the day of judgment.[2585] In his Biblical commentaries Bede briefly echoes some of the views of the fathers concerning magic and demons, for instance, in his treatment of the witch of Endor.[2586]

Of Bede’s Hexaemeron we talked about in an earlier chapter. His main surviving genuine scientific work is the aforementioned De natura rerum, [2582] a very brief discussion of astronomy and meteorology. It closely resembles Isidore’s work of the same title but is even shorter, largely leaving out references to sources and the Biblical quotes and allegorical interpretations that make up a significant part of Isidore’s short text. One of the few sources Bede does mention is Pliny in a discussion about the orbits of the planets. [2583] Like Isidore, he views comets as signs of war and political upheaval, as well as storms and diseases. [2584] He also claims that the air is filled with evil spirits who are waiting for the greater torments of judgment day. [2585] In his Biblical commentaries, Bede briefly reflects some views of the Church Fathers regarding magic and demons, for example, in his discussion of the witch of Endor. [2586]

Divination by thunder.

Bede also translated into Latin a treatise on divination from thunder, perhaps from the works of the sixth century Greek writer, John Lydus. In the preface to Herefridus, at whose request he had undertaken the translation, he speaks of it as a laborious and dangerous task, sure to expose him to the attacks of the invidious and detractors who will perhaps insinuate that he is possessed of an evil spirit or is a practitioner of magic. The three chapters of the treatise give the significance of thunder for the four points of the compass, the twelve months of the year, and the seven days of the week. For instance, if thunder arises in the east,[Pg 636] according to the traditions of subtle philosophers there will be in the course of that year copious effusion of human blood. Each signification is introduced with some bombastic phraseology concerning the agile genius or sagacious investigation of the philosophers who discovered it.[2587] Other tracts on divination which were attributed to Bede are probably spurious and will for the most part be considered later in connection with other treatises of the same sort.[2588]

Bede also translated a treatise on interpreting thunder into Latin, possibly based on the work of the sixth-century Greek writer, John Lydus. In the preface to Herefridus, who asked him to do the translation, he describes it as a difficult and risky task that will likely make him a target for envy and criticism from those who might suggest he is possessed by an evil spirit or practices magic. The three chapters of the treatise explain what thunder means for the four directions, the twelve months of the year, and the seven days of the week. For example, if thunder occurs in the east, the subtle philosophers believe it will result in a great loss of human life that year. Each interpretation is introduced with some grand language about the clever genius or sharp inquiry of the philosophers who figured it out. Other texts on divination attributed to Bede are likely not genuine and will mostly be discussed later alongside other similar works.

Riddles of Aldhelm.

Some interest in and knowledge of natural science is displayed in the metrical riddles[2589] of St. Aldhelm, abbot of Malmesbury and bishop of Sherborne, who died in 709, “the first Englishman who cultivated classical learning with any success and the first of whom any literary remains are preserved.” Most of them are concerned with animals, such as silkworms, peacock, salamander, bee, swan, lion, ostrich, dove, fish, basilisk, camel, eagle, taxo, beaver, weasel, swallow, cat, crow, unicorn, minotaur, Scylla, and elephant; or with herbs and trees, such as heliotrope, pepper, nettles, hellebore, and palm; or with minerals, such as salt, adamant, and magnet; or with terrestrial and celestial phenomena, such as earth, wind, cloud, rainbow, moon, Pleiades, Arcturus, Lucifer, and night. There is a close resemblance between some of these riddles and a score of citations from an Adhelmus made in the thirteenth century by Thomas of Cantimpré in his De natura rerum.[2590] Pitra,[2591] however, suggested[Pg 637] that the Adhelmus cited by Thomas of Cantimpré was a brother of John the Scot of the ninth century.

Some interest in and knowledge of natural science is shown in the metrical riddles[2589] of St. Aldhelm, abbot of Malmesbury and bishop of Sherborne, who died in 709, “the first Englishman who successfully took on classical learning and the first of whom any literary works are preserved.” Most of these riddles focus on animals like silkworms, peacocks, salamanders, bees, swans, lions, ostriches, doves, fish, basilisks, camels, eagles, taxos, beavers, weasels, swallows, cats, crows, unicorns, minotaurs, Scylla, and elephants; or on herbs and trees such as heliotrope, pepper, nettles, hellebore, and palm; or on minerals like salt, adamant, and magnet; or on earthly and heavenly phenomena such as earth, wind, clouds, rainbows, the moon, Pleiades, Arcturus, Lucifer, and night. Some of these riddles closely resemble a number of citations from an Adhelmus made in the thirteenth century by Thomas of Cantimpré in his De natura rerum.[2590] Pitra,[2591] however, suggested[Pg 637] that the Adhelmus cited by Thomas of Cantimpré was a brother of John the Scot from the ninth century.

Gregory’s Dialogues.

The total lack of originality and the extremely abbreviated character of the infrequent scientific writing in the west is not, however, a fair example of the total thought and writing of early medieval Latin Christendom. When we turn to the lives of the saints, to the miracles recorded of contemporary monks and missionaries, we find that in the field of its own supreme interests the pious imagination of the time could display considerable inventiveness and was by no means satisfied with brief compendiums from the Bible and earlier Fathers. Here too the superstition and credulity, which had been held back by fear of paganism in the case of natural and occult science, ran luxuriant riot. Such literature lies rather outside the strict field of this investigation, but it is so characteristic of the Christian thought of the period that we may consider one prominent specimen, the Dialogues of Gregory the Great,[2592] pope from 590 to 604. We shall sufficiently illustrate the nature of this farrago of pious folk-lore by a résumé of the contents of the opening pages of the first of its four books. We need not dwell upon the importance of Gregory in the history of the papacy, of monasticism, and of patristic literature, further than to emphasize the point that so distinguished, influential, and for his times great, a man should have been capable of writing such a book. Similar citations which might be multiplied from other authors of the period could not add much force to this one impressive instance of the naïve pious credulity and superstition of the best Christian minds of that age. Not only were the Dialogues well known throughout the medieval period in the Latin reading world, but they were translated into Greek at an early date and in 779 from that language into Arabic, while King Alfred made an Anglo-Saxon translation of the Latin in the closing ninth century.

The complete lack of originality and the very short nature of the rare scientific writing in the West isn’t a fair reflection of the overall thought and writing of early medieval Latin Christendom. When we look at the lives of the saints and the miracles documented about contemporary monks and missionaries, we see that within its own key interests, the pious imagination of the time was quite inventive and not content with just brief summaries from the Bible and earlier Church Fathers. Here too, the superstition and gullibility, which had been restrained by fear of paganism in the realm of natural and occult sciences, flourished wildly. This kind of literature lies outside the strict scope of this investigation, but it’s so emblematic of the Christian thought of the period that we should highlight one notable example: the Dialogues of Gregory the Great, pope from 590 to 604. We will illustrate the nature of this mixture of pious folklore with a summary of the contents from the opening pages of the first of its four books. There’s no need to elaborate on Gregory's significance in the history of the papacy, monasticism, and patristic literature, other than to stress that such an eminent, influential, and remarkable man for his time could write something like this. Similar quotes from other authors of the period wouldn't add much strength to this single striking example of the naïve pious gullibility and superstition of the most esteemed Christian minds of that age. Not only were the Dialogues widely recognized throughout the medieval period in the Latin reading world, but they were translated into Greek early on and in 779 from that language into Arabic, while King Alfred translated the Latin into Anglo-Saxon in the late ninth century.

[Pg 638]

[Pg 638]

Signs and wonders wrought by saints.

In the Dialogues Gregory narrates to Peter the Deacon some of the virtues, signs, and marvelous works of saintly men in Italy which he has learned either by personal experience or indirectly from the statements of good and trustworthy witnesses. The first story is of Honoratus, the son of a colonus on a villa in Samnium. When the lad evinced his piety by abstaining from meat at a banquet given by his parents, they ridiculed him, declaring that he would find no fish to eat in those mountains. But when the servant presently went out to draw some water, he poured a fish out of the pitcher upon his return which provided the boy with enough food for the entire day. Subsequently the lad was given his freedom and founded a monastery on the spot. Still later he saved this monastery from an impending avalanche by frequent calling upon the name of Christ and use of the sign of the cross. By these means he stopped the landslide in mid-course and the rocks may still be seen looking as if they were sure to fall.

In the Dialogues, Gregory shares with Peter the Deacon some of the virtues, signs, and amazing deeds of holy people in Italy that he has learned from personal experience or from reliable and trustworthy witnesses. The first story is about Honoratus, the son of a colonus from a villa in Samnium. When the boy showed his piety by refusing meat at a feast held by his parents, they mocked him, saying he wouldn’t find any fish to eat in those mountains. But when the servant went out to fetch water, he returned with a fish from the pitcher, providing the boy with enough food to last the whole day. Later, the boy was granted his freedom and established a monastery on that very spot. Eventually, he saved this monastery from an oncoming avalanche by frequently calling on the name of Christ and using the sign of the cross. By doing this, he halted the landslide in its tracks, and the rocks still appear as though they are poised to fall.

More monkish miracles.

A tale follows of Goths who stole a monk’s horse, but found themselves unable to force their own horses to cross the next river to which they came until they had restored his horse to the monk. In another case where Franks came to plunder this same monk, he remained invisible to them. This same monk was a disciple of the afore-mentioned Honoratus and once raised a woman’s child from the dead by placing upon its breast an old shoe of his master which he cherished as a souvenir. Thus he contrived to satisfy the mother’s pleading and at the same time preserve his own modesty and humility. Gregory does not doubt that the woman’s faith also contributed to the miracle. Gregory adds, however, that he thinks the virtue of patience greater than signs and miracles and tells another story of the same monk to illustrate that virtue.

A story follows about Goths who stole a monk’s horse but found they couldn’t get their own horses to cross the next river until they returned the monk’s horse. In another instance, when Franks came to rob this same monk, he stayed hidden from them. This monk was a disciple of the previously mentioned Honoratus and once brought a woman’s child back to life by placing an old shoe of his master, which he kept as a memento, on the child’s chest. This way, he was able to meet the mother’s plea while maintaining his own modesty and humility. Gregory believes that the woman’s faith also played a part in the miracle. However, Gregory adds that he thinks the virtue of patience is more important than signs and miracles, and he shares another story about the same monk to illustrate that virtue.

A monastic snake-charmer.

We may pass on, however, to the third chapter which contains a story of the gardener of a monastery who set a snake to catch a thief who had made depredations upon the garden, adjuring the snake as follows: “In the name of[Pg 639] Jesus I command you to guard this approach and not permit the thief to enter here.” The serpent obediently stretched its length across the path, and when the gardener returned later, he found the thief hanging head first from the hedge, in which his foot had caught as he was climbing over it and had been surprised by the sight of the serpent. The monk of course then freely gave the thief what he had come to steal, but also of course gave him a brief moral lecture which was perhaps less welcome.

We can move on to the third chapter, which tells the story of a gardener at a monastery who set a snake to catch a thief that had been stealing from the garden. He commanded the snake, saying: “In the name of Jesus, I command you to watch this entrance and not let the thief come in.” The snake obediently lay across the path, and when the gardener returned later, he found the thief hanging upside down from the hedge, having gotten his foot caught while trying to climb over it and being startled by the snake. The monk, of course, gave the thief what he had come to steal, but he also took the opportunity to give him a brief moral lecture, which was probably not very welcome.

Basilius the magician.

After a brief account of a miraculous release from sexual passion Gregory comes to a tale of Basilius the magician. This is the same man concerning whose arrest and trial on the charge of practicing magic and sinister arts we find directions given in two of the letters of Cassiodorus.[2593] According to Gregory he took refuge with the aid of a bishop in a monastery, although the abbot saw something diabolical about him from the very start. Soon a virgin who was under the charge of the monastery became so infatuated with Basilius as to call publicly for him, declaring that she should die unless he came to her aid. The abbot then expelled him from the monastery, on which occasion Basilius confessed that he had often by his magic arts suspended the monastery in mid-air but that he had never been able to injure anyone who was in it. This is more detailed information concerning the nature of Basilius’ magic than Cassiodorus gives us. Gregory further adds that not long after Basilius was burned to death at Rome by the zeal of the Christian people.

After a brief account of a miraculous escape from sexual desire, Gregory tells a story about Basilius the magician. This is the same man for whom directions regarding his arrest and trial for practicing magic and dark arts can be found in two letters from Cassiodorus.[2593] According to Gregory, he sought refuge in a monastery with the help of a bishop, although the abbot sensed something evil about him from the beginning. Soon, a virgin under the care of the monastery became so infatuated with Basilius that she publicly cried out for him, claiming she would die unless he came to her aid. The abbot then expelled him from the monastery, during which Basilius admitted that he had often used his magic to suspend the monastery in mid-air but had never harmed anyone inside it. This provides more detailed information about Basilius’ magic than what Cassiodorus gives us. Gregory further adds that not long after, Basilius was burned to death in Rome by the fervor of the Christian people.

A demon salad.

A female servant of this same monastery once ate a lettuce in the garden without making the sign of the cross first, and became possessed of a demon straightway. When the abbot was summoned, the demon attempted to excuse himself, exclaiming, “What have I done? what have I done? I was just sitting on a lettuce when she came along and ate me.” The abbot nevertheless indignantly proceeded to drive the evil spirit out of his serf.

A female servant from the same monastery once ate a lettuce in the garden without making the sign of the cross first, and she immediately became possessed by a demon. When the abbot was called in, the demon tried to defend itself, saying, “What have I done? What have I done? I was just sitting on a lettuce when she came and ate me.” However, the abbot angrily set about driving the evil spirit out of his servant.

[Pg 640]

[Pg 640]

Such are a few specimens of the monkish magic that was considered perfectly legitimate and rapturously admired at the same time that men like Basilius were burned at the stake on charges of magic by the zealous Christian populace.

Such are a few examples of the monkish magic that was viewed as completely legitimate and enthusiastically admired, even as men like Basilius were burned at the stake on charges of witchcraft by the fervent Christian crowd.

Incantations in Old Irish.

We may add a word at this point concerning Old Irish literature[2594] which, as it has reached us, is almost entirely religious in character,[2595] produced and preserved by the Christian clergy. Yet we find a number of traces of magic in these remains of Celtic learning and literature during the dark ages. Indeed, the sole document in the Irish language which is ascribed to St. Patrick is a Hymn or incantation in which he invokes the Trinity and the powers of nature to aid him against the enchantments of women, smiths, and wizards. By repeating this rhythmical formula Patrick and his companions are said to have become invisible to King Loigaire and his Druids. The spell is perhaps as old as Patrick’s time. Three other incantations for urinary disease, sore eyes, and to extract a thorn are contained in the Stowe Missal. An Irish manuscript of the eighth or ninth century in the monastery of St. Gall has four spells for similar purposes and another is found in a ninth century codex preserved in Carinthia.

We should mention a bit about Old Irish literature[2594], which, as we've received it, is mostly religious in nature,[2595] produced and kept by the Christian clergy. However, there are several hints of magic in these remnants of Celtic knowledge and literature from the dark ages. In fact, the only document in the Irish language attributed to St. Patrick is a Hymn or incantation where he calls on the Trinity and the forces of nature to help him against the spells of women, smiths, and wizards. By repeating this rhythmic formula, Patrick and his followers are said to have become invisible to King Loigaire and his Druids. This spell might date back to Patrick’s time. The Stowe Missal includes three other incantations for urinary conditions, sore eyes, and to remove a thorn. An Irish manuscript from the eighth or ninth century in the St. Gall monastery has four spells for similar issues, and another is found in a ninth-century codex stored in Carinthia.

The Fili.

The Irish had their Fili corresponding somewhat to the Druids of Gaul or Britain. They were perhaps less closely connected with heathen rites, since the church seems to have been less opposed to them than to the Druids. They were poets and learned men, and a large part of their learning, at least originally, seems to have consisted of magic and divination. There are many instances in Irish literature of their disfiguring the faces of their enemies by raising blotches upon them by the power of words which they uttered. St. Patrick forbade two of their three methods of divination.

The Irish had their Fili, which were somewhat similar to the Druids of Gaul or Britain. They were likely less tied to pagan rituals, as the church appears to have been less opposed to them than to the Druids. They were poets and scholars, and a significant part of their knowledge, at least initially, seems to have involved magic and divination. There are many examples in Irish literature of them marring the faces of their enemies by causing blemishes to appear through the power of the words they spoke. St. Patrick banned two of their three methods of divination.


[Pg 641]

[Pg 641]

CHAPTER XXVIII
ARABIC OCCULT SCIENCE OF THE NINTH CENTURY

Plan of the chapter—Works of Alkindi—On Stellar Rays, or The Theory of the Magic Art—Radiation of occult force from the stars—Magic power of words—Problem of prayer—Figures, characters, and sacrifice—Experiment and magic—Alkindi’s medieval influence—Divination by visions and dreams—Weather prediction—Alkindi as an astrologer—Alkindi on conjunctions—Alkindi and alchemy—Astrological works of Albumasar—The Experiments of Albumasar—Albumasar in SadanBook of Rains—Costa ben Luca’s translation of Hero’s Mechanica—Latin versions of his Epistle concerning Incantation—Form of the epistle—Incantations directly affect the mind alone—Men imagine themselves bewitched—How are amulets effective?—Citations from the lapidary of the Pseudo-Aristotle—From Galen and Dioscorides—Occult virtue—On the Difference between Soul and Spirit—The nature of spiritus—Thought explained physiologically—Views of other medieval writers—Thebit ben Corat—The Sabians—Thebit’s Relations to Sabianism—Thebit as encyclopedist, philosopher, astronomer—His occult science—Astrological and magic images—Life of Rasis—His 232 works—Charlatans discussed—His interest in natural science—Rasis and alchemy—Titles suggestive of astrology and magic—Conclusion.

Plan of the chapter—Works of Alkindi—On Stellar Rays, or The Theory of the Magic Art—Radiation of hidden power from the stars—Magical power of words—The issue of prayer—Figures, symbols, and sacrifice—Experimentation and magic—Alkindi’s influence in the medieval period—Divination through visions and dreams—Weather forecasting—Alkindi as an astrologer—Alkindi on planetary alignments—Alkindi and alchemy—Astrological writings of Albumasar—The Experiments of Albumasar—Albumasar in SadanBook of Rains—Costa ben Luca’s translation of Hero’s Mechanica—Latin versions of his Epistle concerning Incantation—Structure of the epistle—Incantations affect only the mind—People believe they are enchanted—How do amulets work?—Citations from the lapidary of the Pseudo-Aristotle—From Galen and Dioscorides—Hidden properties—On the Difference between Soul and Spirit—The nature of spiritus—Thought explained in physiological terms—Perspectives of other medieval authors—Thebit ben Corat—The Sabians—Thebit’s connections to Sabianism—Thebit as an encyclopedia writer, philosopher, and astronomer—His hidden knowledge—Astrological and magical images—Life of Rasis—His 232 works—Discussion of frauds—His interest in natural sciences—Rasis and alchemy—Titles suggestive of astrology and magic—Conclusion.

Plan of the chapter.

In this chapter we shall consider a number of learned men who wrote in Arabic or other oriental languages in the ninth and early tenth century: Alkindi, Albumasar, Costa ben Luca, Thebit ben Corat, and Rasis—to mention for the present only the brief and convenient form of their names by which they were commonly designated in medieval Latin learning. Not all of these men were Mohammedans; not one was an Arab, strictly speaking; but they lived under Mohammedan rule and wrote in Arabic. We shall note especially those of their works which deal with occult science and which were plainly influential upon the later medieval Latin learning. Indeed, most of the works of which we shall treat seem to be extant only in Latin translation. This[Pg 642] chapter aims at no exhaustive treatment of Arabic science and magic in the ninth century, but merely, by presenting a few prominent examples, to give some idea of it and of its influence upon the middle ages. In subsequent chapters we shall have occasion to mention many other such medieval translations from Arabic and other oriental languages.

In this chapter, we will look at several scholars who wrote in Arabic or other Eastern languages during the ninth and early tenth centuries: Alkindi, Albumasar, Costa ben Luca, Thebit ben Corat, and Rasis—just to name a few of the shortened versions of their names that were commonly used in medieval Latin scholarship. Not all of these scholars were Muslims, and none were Arabs, strictly speaking; however, they lived under Muslim rule and wrote in Arabic. We will particularly highlight their works that focus on occult science, which significantly shaped later medieval Latin learning. In fact, most of the works we will discuss seem to exist only in Latin translation. This[Pg 642] chapter does not aim to provide an exhaustive account of Arabic science and magic in the ninth century, but rather, by showcasing a few key examples, to give an impression of its significance and impact on the Middle Ages. In future chapters, we will also cover many other medieval translations from Arabic and other Eastern languages.

Works of Alkindi.

One of the great names in the history of Arabic learning is that of Alkindi (Ya‘kûb ibn Ishâk ibn Sabbâh al-Kindî), who died about 850 or 873 A. D.[2596] Comparatively few of his writings have come to us, however, although some two hundred titles prove that he covered the whole field of knowledge in his own day. He translated the works of Aristotle and other Greeks into Arabic, and wrote upon philosophy, politics, mathematics, medicine, music, astronomy, and astrology, discriminating little between science and superstition in his enthusiasm for extensive knowledge. The first treatise of his to appear in print was an astrological one on weather prediction in Latin translation.[2597] In 1875 Loth printed an Arabic text of his treatise on the theory of conjunctions. More recently Nagy has edited Latin versions of some of his philosophical opuscula, and Björnbo has published an optical treatise by him entitled De spectaculis.

One of the prominent figures in the history of Arabic learning is Alkindi (Ya‘kûb ibn Ishâk ibn Sabbâh al-Kindî), who died around 850 or 873 A.D.[2596] However, relatively few of his writings have survived, although about two hundred titles indicate that he explored a wide range of knowledge in his time. He translated the works of Aristotle and other Greek philosophers into Arabic and wrote on subjects like philosophy, politics, mathematics, medicine, music, astronomy, and astrology, showing little distinction between science and superstition in his quest for broad knowledge. The first of his works to be published was an astrological text on weather prediction translated into Latin.[2597] In 1875, Loth published an Arabic version of his treatise on the theory of conjunctions. More recently, Nagy has edited Latin versions of some of his philosophical short works, and Björnbo has released an optical treatise by him titled De spectaculis.

On Stellar Rays, or The Theory of the Magic Art.

In a manuscript of the closing fourteenth century are contained several sets of errors of Aristotle and various Arabs, also others condemned at Paris in 1348 and 1363, at Oxford in 1376, and so on. Among these are listed the[Pg 643] Errors of Alkindi in the Magic Art.[2598] The allusion is to a treatise by Alkindi, variously styled The Theory of the Magic Art or On Stellar Rays, which is found in Latin version in a number of medieval manuscripts,[2599] but which has never been published or described at all fully.

In a manuscript from the late fourteenth century, there are several sets of errors attributed to Aristotle and various Arab scholars, as well as others that were condemned in Paris in 1348 and 1363, and at Oxford in 1376, among others. Included in this list are the[Pg 643] Errors of Alkindi in the Magic Art.[2598] This refers to a treatise by Alkindi, which is commonly known as The Theory of the Magic Art or On Stellar Rays. It exists in Latin in several medieval manuscripts,[2599] but has never been fully published or described.

Radiation of occult force from the stars.

Alkindi begins the treatise by asserting the astrological doctrine of radiation of occult influence from the stars. The diversity of objects in nature depends upon two things, the diversity of matter and the varying influence exerted by the rays from the stars. Each star has its own peculiar force and certain objects are especially under its influence, while the movement of the stars to new positions and “the collision of their rays” produce such an infinite variety of combinations that no two things in this world are ever found alike in all respects. The stars, however, are no[Pg 644] the only objects which emit rays; everything in the world of the elements radiates force, too. Fire, color, and sound are examples of this. The science of physics considers the action of objects upon one another by contact, but the sages know of a more occult interaction of remote objects suggested by the power of the magnet and the reflection of an image in a mirror. All such emanations, however, are in the last analysis caused by the celestial harmony, which governs by necessity all the changes in this world. Thus the men of old, by experiments and by close scrutiny of the secrets of both superior and inferior nature and of the disposition of the sky, came to comprehend many hidden things in the world of nature and were able to discover the names of those who had committed theft and adultery.

Alkindi starts the treatise by stating the astrological belief in the influence of the stars radiating their powers. The variety of things in nature comes from two factors: the diversity of matter and the different effects of the rays from the stars. Each star has its unique energy, influencing certain objects more than others, while the stars moving to new positions and “colliding their rays” create such an endless variety of combinations that no two things in this world are ever exactly the same. However, the stars aren’t the only sources of rays; everything in the element world gives off energy too. Fire, color, and sound are examples of this. The science of physics looks at how objects interact when they touch, but wise individuals recognize a deeper, hidden connection between distant objects, similar to the way magnets work or how images reflect in mirrors. Ultimately, all these emanations are driven by the celestial harmony that necessarily governs all changes in the world. Therefore, ancient people, through experiments and careful observation of the secrets of both the higher and lower realms and the layout of the sky, were able to understand many hidden aspects of the natural world and even identify those who had committed theft and adultery.

The border-line between science and magic.

Alkindi has thus prepared the reader’s mind for the consideration of phenomena beyond the realm of ordinary physical action. At the same time he has approached the occult by arguing on the analogy of natural phenomena and he has laid down as a fundamental scientific premise what we now regard as a superstition of astrologers. In other words, he is not unaware of a difference in method and character between physics and astrology, between science and superstition, yet he tries to formulate a scientific basis for what is really a belief in magic.

Alkindi has prepared the reader to think about phenomena that go beyond ordinary physical actions. At the same time, he has engaged with the occult by drawing parallels to natural phenomena and has established what we now see as a superstition among astrologers as a fundamental scientific principle. In other words, he acknowledges that there is a difference in approach and nature between physics and astrology, between science and superstition, yet he attempts to create a scientific foundation for what is essentially a belief in magic.

Magic power of words.

Although Alkindi does not, as I recall, use the word magic, he next argues in favor of what is commonly called the magic power of words. He affirms that the human imagination can form concepts and then emit rays which will affect exterior objects just as would the thing itself whose image the mind has conceived. Muscular movement and speech are the two channels by which the mind’s conceptions can be transformed into action. Frequent experiments have proven clearly the potency of words when uttered in exact accordance with imagination and intention, and when accompanied by due solemnity, firm faith, and strong desire. The effect produced by words and voices is heightened if they are uttered under favorable astrological conditions.[Pg 645] Some go best with Saturn, others with the planet Jupiter, some with one sign of the zodiac and others with another. The four elements are variously affected by different voices; some voices, for instance, affect fire most powerfully. Some especially stir trees or some one kind of tree. Thus by words motion is started, accelerated, or impeded; animal life is generated or destroyed; images are made to appear in mirrors; flames and lightnings are produced; and other feats and illusions are performed which seem marvelous to the mob.

Although Alkindi doesn’t, as I remember, use the word magic, he goes on to argue for what people often call the magical power of words. He claims that human imagination can create concepts and then project rays that affect external objects just like the actual thing whose image the mind has formed. Physical movements and speech are the two ways the mind's ideas can be turned into action. Many experiments have clearly shown the effectiveness of words when spoken in alignment with imagination and intention, and when paired with the right seriousness, strong belief, and intense desire. The impact of words and voices is intensified if they are spoken under favorable astrological conditions. Some align better with Saturn, others with Jupiter, and some with different zodiac signs. The four elements react differently to various voices; for example, some voices have a strong effect on fire. Certain voices can notably influence trees or specific types of trees. Thus, through words, movement is initiated, sped up, or blocked; life is created or ended; images are made to show up in mirrors; flames and light are generated; and other amazing tricks and illusions are performed that seem wondrous to the crowd.[Pg 645]

Problem of prayer.

Alkindi even ventures to touch upon the subject of prayer. He states that the rays emitted by the human mind and voice become the more efficacious in moving matter, if the speaker has fixed his mind upon and names God or some powerful angel. Human ignorance of the harmony of nature also often necessitates appeal to a higher power in order to attain good and to avoid evil. Faith, and observance of the proper time and place and attendant circumstances have their bearing, however, upon the success or failure of prayer as well as of other utterances. And there are some authorities who would exclude spiritual influence entirely in such matters and who believe that words and images and prayers as well as herbs and gems are completely under the universal control exercised by the stars.

Alkindi even dares to discuss the topic of prayer. He says that the energy released by the human mind and voice becomes more effective in influencing matter if the speaker focuses on and mentions God or some powerful angel. Our lack of understanding about the harmony of nature often leads us to seek help from a higher power to achieve good and avoid evil. However, faith, along with attention to the right time, place, and surrounding circumstances, can affect the success or failure of prayer and other expressions. Some experts argue that spiritual influence should be completely disregarded in these situations and believe that words, images, prayers, as well as herbs and gems, are entirely governed by the universal control of the stars.

Figures, characters, and sacrifice.

The treatise concludes by discussing the virtues of figures, characters, images, and sacrifices in much the same way as it has treated of the power of words. We are assured that “The sages have proved by frequent experiments that figures and characters inscribed by the hand of man on various materials with intention and due solemnity of place and time and other circumstances have the effect of motion upon external objects.” Every such figure emits rays having the peculiar virtue which has been impressed upon it by the stars and signs. There are characters which can be employed to cure disease or to induce it in men or animals. Images constructed in conformity with the constellations[Pg 646] emit rays having something of the virtue of the celestial harmony. Alkindi also defends the practice of animal sacrifice. Whether God or spirits are placated thereby or not, none the less the sacrifice is efficacious, if made with human intent and due solemnity and in accordance with the celestial harmony. The star and sign which are dominant when any voluntary act of this sort is begun, rule that work to its finish. The material and forms employed should be appropriate to the constellation, or the effect produced will be discordant and perverted.

The treatise wraps up by examining the benefits of symbols, characters, images, and sacrifices in a similar way to how it discussed the power of words. We’re told that “The sages have proven through multiple experiments that symbols and characters created by humans on different materials with intention and the proper seriousness of time and place have an effect on external objects.” Each of these symbols emits rays that carry a unique power influenced by the stars and signs. There are symbols that can be used to heal or to cause illness in people or animals. Images designed according to the constellations[Pg 646] emit rays that possess some of the qualities of celestial harmony. Alkindi also supports the practice of animal sacrifice. Whether or not God or spirits are appeased, the sacrifice has an effect if performed with human intention, seriousness, and in accordance with celestial harmony. The star and sign that dominate when any voluntary act begins govern that act until it’s complete. The materials and forms used should align with the constellation, or the outcome will be dissonant and distorted.

Experiment and magic.

It will have been noted that Alkindi more than once asserts that his conclusions have been demonstrated experimentally. Thus we have one more example of the connection, supposititious or real, between magic and experimental method.

It should be noted that Alkindi claims more than once that his conclusions have been proven through experiments. So, we have another instance of the connection, whether imagined or actual, between magic and the experimental method.

Alkindi’s medieval influence.

The doctrine here set forth by Alkindi of the radiation of force and his explanation of magic by astrology were both to be very influential conceptions in Latin medieval learning. We shall find Roger Bacon, for example, repeating the same views in almost the same language concerning stellar rays and the power of words, and it is appropriate that in two manuscripts his utterances are placed together with those of Alkindi.[2600]

The ideas presented by Alkindi about the radiation of force and his explanation of magic through astrology had a significant impact on Latin medieval learning. For instance, Roger Bacon echoed similar thoughts in almost the same words regarding stellar rays and the power of spoken language. It’s fitting that in two manuscripts, his statements are placed alongside those of Alkindi.[2600]

Divination by visions and dreams.

Alkindi’s treatise De somno et visione, as we have it in the Latin translation by Gerard of Cremona,[2601] accepts clairvoyance and divination by dreams as true and asks why we see some things before they happen, why we see other things which require interpretation before they reveal the future, and why at other times we foresee the contrary of what is to be.[2602] His answer is that the mind or soul has innate[Pg 647] natural knowledge of these things, and that “it is itself the seat of all species sensible and rational.” Vision is when the soul dismisses the senses and employs thought, and the formative or imaginative virtue of the mind is more active in sleep, the sensitive faculties when one is awake.

Alkindi’s treatise De somno et visione, as we have it in the Latin translation by Gerard of Cremona,[2601] accepts clairvoyance and dream divination as genuine and questions why we sometimes see things before they happen, why at other times we see things that need interpretation to reveal the future, and why we sometimes predict the opposite of what will actually occur.[2602] His answer is that the mind or soul has an inherent natural knowledge of these matters, and that “it is itself the seat of all species sensible and rational.” Vision happens when the soul ignores the senses and engages thought, while the imaginative power of the mind is more active during sleep and the sense faculties are engaged when awake.

Weather prediction.

While by some persons, at least, opinions of Alkindi in his Theory of the Magic Art were regarded as erroneous, Albertus Magnus in his Speculum astronomiae listed among works on judicial astrology with which he thought that the church could find no fault “a book of Alchindi” which opened with the words Rogatus fui.[2603] This is a work on weather prediction which still exists in a number of manuscripts[2604] and was printed in 1507 at Venice, and in 1540 at Paris, together with a treatise on the same theme by Albumasar, of whom we shall say more presently.[2605]

While some people considered Alkindi's views in his Theory of the Magic Art to be mistaken, Albertus Magnus included a work by him in his Speculum astronomiae among the texts on judicial astrology that he believed the church could not criticize. He referred to it as “a book of Alchindi,” which begins with the words Rogatus fui.[2603] This is a work on weather prediction that still exists in several manuscripts[2604] and was printed in 1507 in Venice and again in 1540 in Paris, along with a treatise on the same topic by Albumasar, about whom we will discuss more shortly.[2605]

[Pg 648]

[Pg 648]

Alkindi as an astrologer.

A majority, indeed, of the works by Alkindi extant in Latin translation are astrological.[2606] Several were translated by Gerard of Cremona, and one or two by John of Spain and Robert of Chester.[2607] Geomancies are attributed to Alkindi in manuscripts at Munich.[2608] Loth notes concerning Alkindi’s astrology what we have already found to be the case in his theories of radiation and magic art and of divination by dreams; namely, that while he believes in astrology unconditionally, he tries to pursue it as a science in a scientific way, observing mathematical method and physical laws—as they seemed to him—while he attacked the vulgar superstitions which were popularly regarded as astrology.

A majority of the works by Alkindi that exist in Latin translation are astrological. Several were translated by Gerard of Cremona, and one or two by John of Spain and Robert of Chester. Geomancies are attributed to Alkindi in manuscripts at Munich. Loth notes concerning Alkindi’s astrology what we have already seen in his theories of radiation, magic art, and divination by dreams; specifically, that while he unconditionally believes in astrology, he tries to approach it scientifically, using mathematical methods and physical laws—as he understood them—while criticizing the common superstitions that people thought of as astrology.

Alkindi on conjunctions.

The astrological treatise by Alkindi, of which Loth edited the Arabic text, is a letter on the duration of the empire of the Arabs. This bit of political prediction was, as far as Loth knew, the first instance of the theory of conjunctions in Arabian astrology. The theory was that lesser conjunctions of the planets, which occur every twenty years, middling conjunctions which come every two hundred and forty years, and great conjunctions which occur only every nine hundred and sixty years, exert a great influence not only upon the world of nature but upon political and religious events, and, especially the great conjunctions, open new periods in history. Thus, as Loth says, the conjunction is for the macrocosmos what the horoscope is for man the microcosmos; the one forecasts the fate of[Pg 649] the individual; the other, that of society. Loth knew of no Latin translation of Alkindi’s letter, and medieval writers in Latin cite Albumasar usually as their authority on the subject of conjunctions. But Loth held that Albumasar, who was a pupil of Alkindi, merely developed and popularized the astrological theories of his master, and Loth showed that Albumasar embodied our letter on the duration of the Arabian empire in large part in his work On Great Conjunctions without mentioning Alkindi as his authority.

The astrological work by Alkindi, which Loth edited in Arabic, is a letter discussing the duration of the Arab Empire. According to Loth, this was the first instance of the conjunction theory in Arabian astrology. The theory suggested that lesser planetary conjunctions happen every twenty years, medium conjunctions every two hundred and forty years, and major conjunctions every nine hundred and sixty years, all of which have a significant impact not just on nature but also on political and religious events. Specifically, major conjunctions signal new historical periods. As Loth explains, the conjunction represents the macrocosm while the horoscope represents the microcosm; one forecasts the fate of individuals, while the other forecasts that of society. Loth was unaware of any Latin translation of Alkindi’s letter, and medieval Latin writers typically cited Albumasar as their source on conjunctions. However, Loth argued that Albumasar, a student of Alkindi, simply expanded and popularized his mentor's astrological theories, demonstrating that Albumasar largely incorporated Alkindi's letter on the duration of the Arabian empire into his work On Great Conjunctions, without crediting Alkindi as his source.

Alkindi and alchemy.

Although a believer in astrology to the point of magic, and not unacquainted with metals as his work On the Properties of Swords shows, Alkindi regarded the art of alchemy as a deception and the pretended transmutation of other metals into gold as false.[2609] He affirmed this especially in his treatise entitled, The Deceits of the Alchemists, but also in his other writings.[2610]

Although he believed in astrology almost to the point of magic, and had some knowledge of metals as shown in his work On the Properties of Swords, Alkindi saw alchemy as a fraud and considered the claimed transformation of other metals into gold as untrue. He emphasized this particularly in his treatise titled The Deceits of the Alchemists, but also in his other works.

Astrological works of Albumasar.

Something further should be said concerning the astrological treatises of Albumasar (Abu Maؗ’shar Ja’far ben Muhammad al-Balkhî) whence also his briefer appellations, Japhar and Dja’far. He died in 886 and has been called the most celebrated of all the ninth century Bagdad astrologers, although he has also been accused of plagiarism, as we have seen. In 1489 at Augsburg Erhard Ratdolt published three of his works, the Greater Introduction to Astronomy in eight books, the Flowers—which Roger Bacon cites as severely condemning physicians who do not study astrology[2611]—and the eight books concerning great conjunctions and revolutions of the years. Of these the Introduction was translated both by John of Spain and Hermann of Dalmatia, but the former translation, although found in many manuscripts, remains unprinted. The Flores is found in numerous manuscripts and was reprinted in 1495. The[Pg 650] work on conjunctions and revolutions was printed again in 1515 and also exists in many manuscripts.[2612] A French translation which Hagins the Jew, working for Henri Bate of Malines, made in 1273 of “Le livre des revolutions de siècle,” of whose six chapters he translated only four,[2613] probably applied to a part of this work.

Something more should be mentioned about the astrological writings of Albumasar (Abu Maşhar Ja’far ben Muhammad al-Balkhî), also known simply as Japhar and Dja’far. He passed away in 886 and is regarded as the most famous astrologer of ninth-century Baghdad, though he has faced accusations of plagiarism, as we've noted. In 1489, Erhard Ratdolt published three of his works in Augsburg: the Greater Introduction to Astronomy in eight books, the Flowers—which Roger Bacon points out harshly criticizes doctors who ignore astrology—A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ and eight books about great conjunctions and revolutions over the years. The Introduction was translated by both John of Spain and Hermann of Dalmatia, but John’s version, despite appearing in many manuscripts, has never been printed. The Flores appears in numerous manuscripts and was reprinted in 1495. The[Pg 650] work on conjunctions and revolutions was printed again in 1515 and is also available in many manuscripts.[2612] A French translation made by Hagins the Jew for Henri Bate of Malines in 1273 of “Le livre des revolutions de siècle,” which consists of six chapters but only four were translated,[2613] likely pertains to a part of this work.

The Experiments of Albumasar.

Albertus Magnus in the Speculum astronomiae, in listing irreproachable works of astronomy and astrology, mentions a “Book of Experiments” by Albumasar instead of the Conjunctions and Revolutions along with his Flowers and Introduction.[2614] This book of experiments by Albumasar is often met with in the manuscripts. It is a different and shorter work than that in eight parts on Conjunctions, but itself[Pg 651] deals with the subject of revolutions. It is not, however, to be confused with still another work by Albumasar on revolutions as connected with nativities.[2615]

Albertus Magnus in the Speculum astronomiae, while listing reliable works of astronomy and astrology, refers to a “Book of Experiments” by Albumasar instead of the Conjunctions and Revolutions, along with his Flowers and Introduction.[2614] This Book of Experiments by Albumasar is often found in manuscripts. It's a different and shorter work than the eight-part one on Conjunctions, but it still[Pg 651] covers the topic of revolutions. However, it shouldn’t be confused with another work by Albumasar that relates revolutions to nativities.[2615]

Albumasar in Sadan.

Another work on astrology with which the name of Albumasar is connected is cited by medieval writers, notably Peter of Abano,[2616] as Albumasar in Sadan (or Sadam), and is also found in Latin manuscripts where it is also called “Excerpts from the Secrets of Albumasar.”[2617] Steinschneider regarded the Latin translation as a shortened or incomplete version of an Arabic original entitled al-Mudsakaret, or Memorabilia by Abu Sa’id Schâdsân, who wrote down the answers of his teacher to his questions.[2618] There is also a Greek text, entitled Mysteries, which differs considerably from the Latin and of which Sadan perhaps made use.[2619] The Latin version might be described as a miscellaneous collection of astrological teachings, anecdotes, and actual cases of Albumasar gathered up by his disciples and somewhat resembling Luther’s Table-Talk in form.

Another work on astrology associated with the name of Albumasar is referenced by medieval writers, especially Peter of Abano, as Albumasar in Sadan (or Sadam), and it is also found in Latin manuscripts where it’s referred to as “Excerpts from the Secrets of Albumasar.” Steinschneider considered the Latin translation to be a shortened or incomplete version of an Arabic original called al-Mudsakaret, or Memorabilia by Abu Sa’id Schâdsân, who recorded the answers of his teacher to his questions. There is also a Greek text titled Mysteries, which varies significantly from the Latin version and of which Sadan may have made use. The Latin version could be seen as a mixed collection of astrological teachings, anecdotes, and actual cases of Albumasar compiled by his disciples, somewhat resembling Luther’s Table-Talk in style.

Book of rains.

We have already alluded to the treatise on weather prediction by Albumasar which was printed with a similar[Pg 652] work by Alkindi in 1507 and 1540, and also often accompanies it in the manuscripts. In this “book of rains according to the Indians”[2620] Albumasar is variously disguised under the names of Gaphar, Jafar, and Iafar and is called an Indian, Egyptian, or Babylonian.[2621] In his Latin translation of it Hugo Sanctellensis tells his patron, the “antistes Michael” that the treatise was written by Gaphar, an ancient astrologer of India, and has since been abbreviated by a Tillemus or Cilenius or Cylenius Mercurius.[2622] To Japhar is also attributed a Minor Isagoga to astronomy in seven lectures or sermones, which Adelard of Bath is said to have translated from the Arabic.[2623]

We have already mentioned the treatise on weather prediction by Albumasar, which was printed alongside a similar work by Alkindi in 1507 and 1540, and often appears with it in manuscripts. In this "book of rains according to the Indians," Albumasar is referred to by various names such as Gaphar, Jafar, and Iafar, and is identified as an Indian, Egyptian, or Babylonian. In his Latin translation, Hugo Sanctellensis informs his patron, “antistes Michael,” that the treatise was authored by Gaphar, an ancient astrologer from India, and has since been shortened by Tillemus, Cilenius, or Cylenius Mercurius. A Minor Isagoga to astronomy in seven lectures or sermones is also attributed to Japhar, which Adelard of Bath is said to have translated from Arabic.

Costa ben Luca’s translation of Hero’s Mechanica.

We turn next to Costa ben Luca, or Qustá ibn Lūqá, of Baalbek, and especially to his treatise On Physical Ligatures, or more fully, The Epistle concerning Incantations, Adjurations, and Suspensions from the Neck. The scientific importance of Costa ben Luca may be seen from the circumstance that the Mechanica of Hero of Alexandria, of which the Greek text is for the most part lost, has been preserved in the Arabic translation which Costa prepared in 862-866[Pg 653] for the caliph al-Musta. Several manuscripts of this Arabic text are still extant at Cairo, Constantinople, Leyden, and London, and it has been twice printed.[2624]

We now focus on Costa ben Luca, also known as Qustá ibn Lūqá, from Baalbek, particularly his work On Physical Ligatures, or more formally, The Epistle concerning Incantations, Adjurations, and Suspensions from the Neck. The scientific significance of Costa ben Luca is highlighted by the fact that the Mechanica of Hero of Alexandria, which mostly has a lost Greek text, has been preserved in the Arabic translation that Costa prepared between 862-866[Pg 653] for caliph al-Musta. Several manuscripts of this Arabic text are still available in Cairo, Constantinople, Leyden, and London, and it has been printed twice.[2624]

Latin versions of his Epistle concerning Incantation, etc.

The work in which we are more especially interested has also been printed in editions of the works of Galen, of Constantinus Africanus, of Arnald of Villanova, and of Henry Cornelius Agrippa.[2625] The treatise is also attributed to Rasis in the library at Montpellier.[2626] Its inclusion among Galen’s works is a manifest error; in the edition of Agrippa it is appended as The Letter of an Unknown Author (Epistola incerti authoris); while Arnald is represented as translating the work from Greek—a language of which he was ignorant—into Latin. He could read Arabic, however, and perhaps rendered the treatise from that language.[2627] But it had certainly been translated before his time, the end of the thirteenth century, and presumably by Constantinus Africanus, c1015-1087, since it not merely appears in his printed works but is found together with an imperfect copy of his Pantegni in a manuscript of the twelfth century.[2628] In a fifteenth century manuscript Unayn or Honein ben Ishak is named as the author of our treatise, but this seems to be a mistake.[2629] Albertus Magnus in the middle of the thirteenth century cites our treatise both in his Vegetables and Plants,[2630] where he alludes to “the books of incantations of Hermes the philosopher and of Costa ben Luca the philosopher, and the books of physical ligatures,” and in his Minerals,[2631] where[Pg 654] the Liber de ligaturis physicis, as he calls it, is the source whence he has borrowed statements concerning gems ascribed to Aristotle and Dioscorides.

The work we are particularly interested in has also been published in editions of the works of Galen, Constantinus Africanus, Arnald of Villanova, and Henry Cornelius Agrippa.[2625] The treatise is also credited to Rasis in the library at Montpellier.[2626] Its inclusion among Galen’s works is clearly a mistake; in Agrippa's edition, it is listed as The Letter of an Unknown Author (Epistola incerti authoris); meanwhile, Arnald is said to translate the work from Greek—a language he didn’t know—into Latin. However, he could read Arabic and may have translated the treatise from that language.[2627] But it had definitely been translated before his time, at the end of the thirteenth century, presumably by Constantinus Africanus, c1015-1087, since it not only appears in his printed works but is also found alongside an incomplete copy of his Pantegni in a twelfth-century manuscript.[2628] In a fifteenth-century manuscript, Unayn or Honein ben Ishak is identified as the author of our treatise, but this seems to be an error.[2629] Albertus Magnus in the middle of the thirteenth century references our treatise both in his Vegetables and Plants,[2630] where he refers to “the books of incantations of Hermes the philosopher and of Costa ben Luca the philosopher, and the books of physical ligatures,” and in his Minerals,[2631] where[Pg 654] the Liber de ligaturis physicis, as he calls it, is the source from which he has taken statements about gems attributed to Aristotle and Dioscorides.

Form of the epistle.

Our treatise is in the form of a reply by Costa ben Luca to someone whom he addresses as “dearest son” and who has asked him what validity there is in incantations, adjurations, and suspensions from one’s neck, and what the books of the Greeks and Indians have to say upon these matters. The wording of Costa’s epistle varies considerably in the printed editions owing probably to careless interpretation of the manuscripts or careless copying by the earlier scribes, but its general tenor is the same.

Our discussion takes the form of a response from Costa ben Luca to someone he calls “dearest son,” who has inquired about the validity of incantations, adjurations, and charms worn around the neck, as well as what the books of the Greeks and Indians say about these topics. The phrasing of Costa’s letter varies quite a bit in the printed editions, likely due to careless interpretation of the manuscripts or sloppy copying by earlier scribes, but the overall message remains consistent.

Incantations directly affect the mind alone.

Costa first affirms that all the ancients have agreed that the virtue of the mind affects the state of the body. Galen in particular is cited as to the effect of passions upon health and the advisability of the physician’s cheering the minds of gloomy patients even by resort to deception to a limited extent, if it seems necessary. A perfect mind generally goes with a perfect body and an imperfect mind with an imperfect body, as is seen in the case of children, old men, and women, or in the inhabitants of the intemperate zones, either torrid Ethiopia or the frozen north. Here one text specifies Scotland (Scotie); another, Schytie, which is perhaps intended for Scythia. Costa therefore argues that if anyone believes that an incantation will help him, he will at least be benefited by his own confidence. And if a person is constantly afraid that incantations may be directed against him, he may easily fret himself into a fever. This, Costa thinks, was what Socrates had in mind when he described incantations as “words deceiving rational souls by their interpretation or by the fear they produce or by despair.” According to Albertus Magnus, who embodies a good deal of Costa’s Epistle in his Minerals, Socrates said more fully that incantations, or perhaps better, enchantments, were made in four ways, namely, by suspending or binding on objects, by imprecations or adjurations, by characters, and by images; and that they dement rational souls so that they[Pg 655] fall into fear and despair or rise to joy and confidence; and that through these accidents of the mind bodies are altered either in the direction of health or of chronic infirmity.[2632] Costa states that the medical men of India believe that incantations and adjurations are beneficial. But he says nothing to indicate that they, much less the Greeks or himself, have faith in the efficacy of incantations or words to work changes in matter per se or directly, nor does he say anything to indicate that demons may be summoned and given orders by this method. Perhaps his discussion of incantations is a trifle constrained and not sufficiently outspoken, but it is moderate and scientific and shows a fair degree of scepticism for that period, especially when we compare it with Alkindi’s attitude towards the power of words.

Costa first confirms that all the ancient thinkers have agreed that the well-being of the mind impacts the condition of the body. Galen, in particular, is referenced regarding the influence of emotions on health and the importance of doctors uplifting the spirits of depressed patients, even if it means using slight deception if necessary. Generally, a healthy mind accompanies a healthy body, just as an unhealthy mind corresponds with an unhealthy body, as seen in children, the elderly, and women, or in people from extreme climates, whether hot Ethiopia or the freezing north. One text specifically mentions Scotland (Scotie); another, Schytie, likely referring to Scythia. Therefore, Costa argues that if someone believes that a spell will help them, they will at least benefit from their own belief. Conversely, if a person constantly fears that spells may be cast against them, they might easily worry themselves into illness. Costa believes this aligns with Socrates' view when he described spells as “words misleading rational minds through their interpretation, by the fear they evoke, or by despair.” According to Albertus Magnus, who incorporates much of Costa's Epistle in his Minerals, Socrates elaborated that spells, or perhaps more accurately, enchantments, were created in four ways: by binding on objects, through curses or invocations, through symbols, and through images; and that they can drive rational minds to fear and despair or lead them to joy and confidence; and that through these mental states, bodies can be influenced either towards health or chronic illness. Costa notes that the medical practitioners in India believe that spells and invocations are beneficial. However, he does not suggest that they, nor the Greeks or himself, have faith in the ability of spells or words to effect changes in matter directly, nor does he imply that demons can be summoned and commanded in this way. His discussion of spells may be a bit restrained and not entirely straightforward, but it is moderate and scientific and shows a reasonable level of skepticism for that time, especially when compared to Alkindi's perspective on the power of words.

Men imagine themselves bewitched.

Costa ben Luca’s attitude towards sorcery seems the same as towards incantations. He concludes his discussion of this point by a story of “a certain great noble of our country” who had convinced himself that he had been bewitched and consequently became impotent. After vainly endeavoring to convince him that this was simply due to his imagination, Costa decided that there was nothing to do but humor him in his delusion. He therefore showed him a passage in The Book of Cleopatra which prescribed as an aphrodisiac the anointing of the entire body with the gall of a crow mixed with sesame.[2633] The noble followed the prescription and had so much faith in it that his imaginary complaint disappeared.

Costa ben Luca's attitude towards sorcery is similar to his view on incantations. He wraps up his thoughts on this by sharing a story about "a certain great noble of our country" who believed he had been bewitched and, as a result, became impotent. After trying in vain to convince him that it was just his imagination, Costa figured there was nothing else to do but go along with his delusion. He showed the noble a passage in The Book of Cleopatra that recommended using crow gall mixed with sesame to anoint the entire body as an aphrodisiac. [2633] The noble followed the advice and was so convinced it would work that his imagined issue went away.

How are amulets effective?

Finally Costa considers the question of the validity of amulets, or ligatures and suspensions, which we have heard Socrates class with incantations, adjurations, characters, and images. Costa says that he has read in many works by the ancients that objects suspended from the neck are potent not through their natural, but their occult properties. He will not deny that this may be so, but is inclined as before[Pg 656] to attribute the result rather to the comforting effect which such things have upon one’s mind. He proceeds, however, to list a number of suspensions recommended by ancient writers.

Finally, Costa considers the validity of amulets, or ligatures and suspensions, which we’ve heard Socrates group with incantations, adjurations, characters, and images. Costa mentions that he has read in many ancient works that objects worn around the neck are powerful not because of their natural properties, but due to their hidden qualities. He doesn’t deny that this could be true, but he still thinks the effect is more about the comfort these items provide to one's mind. However, he goes on to list several suspensions recommended by ancient authors.[Pg 656]

Citations from the lapidary of the Pseudo-Aristotle.

First he cites from “Aristotle in the Book of Stones,” a spurious treatise of which we shall have more to say in the chapter on Aristotle in the middle ages, a number of examples of the marvelous powers of gems worn suspended from the neck or set in a ring upon the finger. One augments the flow of saliva, another checks the flow of blood. The stone hyacinth enables its bearer to pass safely through a pestilent region, and makes him honored in men’s thoughts and procures the granting of his petitions by rulers. The emerald wards off epilepsy, “wherefore we often prescribe to nobles that their children should wear this stone hung about the neck lest they incur this infirmity.”

First, he references “Aristotle in the Book of Stones,” a questionable treatise that we’ll discuss further in the chapter about Aristotle in the Middle Ages. He gives several examples of the amazing powers of gems worn around the neck or set in rings on fingers. One enhances saliva production, while another stops bleeding. The stone hyacinth helps its wearer safely travel through plague-ridden areas, earns them respect in society, and helps their requests be granted by leaders. The emerald prevents epilepsy, which is why we often recommend that nobles have their children wear this stone around their necks to avoid this condition.

From Galen and Dioscorides.

Costa also cites some recommendations of ligatures and suspensions from Galen, such as curing stomach-ache by suspending coral about the neck or abdomen, or the dung of wolves who have eaten bones, which should preferably be bound on with a thread made from the wool of a sheep eaten by that wolf. To Dioscorides are attributed such amulets as the teeth of a mad dog who has bit a man, which will safeguard their wearer from ever being so bitten—and it would be somewhat of a coincidence, if he were—and the seed of wild saffron which, held in the hand or worn about the neck, is good for the stings of scorpions. The Indians are cited for what is a recipe rather than an amulet: stercum elephantinum cum melle mixtum et in vulva mulieris positum numquam permittit concipere. And some say that a woman who spits thrice in a frog’s mouth will not conceive for a year. A number of other examples are given without mention of any particular authority. Some of them, indeed, are very familiar and could be found in many authors, and we shall meet them in other contexts.

Costa also references some recommendations for charms and remedies from Galen, like treating a stomach ache by wearing coral around the neck or abdomen, or using the dung of wolves that have eaten bones, which should preferably be tied on with a thread made from the wool of a sheep eaten by that wolf. Dioscorides is credited with amulets such as the teeth of a rabid dog that has bitten someone, which will supposedly protect the wearer from being bitten again—and it would be quite a coincidence if they were—and wild saffron seeds held in the hand or worn around the neck are said to help with scorpion stings. The Indians are noted for a recipe rather than an amulet: stercum elephantinum cum melle mixtum et in vulva mulieris positum numquam permittit concipere. Some say that a woman who spits three times into a frog's mouth will not conceive for a year. Several other examples are listed without citing any specific authority. Some of these are quite familiar and can be found in many texts, and we will encounter them in other contexts.

Occult virtue.

Costa concludes by saying that he himself has not tested these statements extracted from the works of the ancients,[Pg 657] but that neither will he deny them, since there exist in nature many strange phenomena and inexplicable forces. We would not believe that the magnet attracts iron, if we had not seen it. Similarly lead breaks adamant which iron cannot break. There is a stone which no furnace can consume and a fish which paralyzes the hand of the person catching it. These strange properties act in some subtle and mighty fashion which is not perceptible to our senses and which we cannot account for by reasoning.[2634] But it is noteworthy that as in discussing incantations Costa said nothing of demons, so he fails to ascribe occult virtue to the influence of the stars.

Costa wraps up by stating that he hasn't personally tested the claims taken from ancient texts,[Pg 657] but he won't dismiss them either, since there are many strange phenomena and unexplained forces in nature. We wouldn't believe that magnets attract iron if we hadn't seen it ourselves. Similarly, lead can break through adamant, which iron can't touch. There's a stone that no furnace can destroy and a fish that paralyzes anyone who tries to catch it. These unusual properties operate in some subtle and powerful way that we can't perceive with our senses and can't explain through logic.[2634] However, it's interesting that, when talking about incantations, Costa didn't mention demons, nor does he attribute any mystical power to the influence of the stars.

On the Difference between Soul and Spirit.

Another treatise by Costa ben Luca, On the Difference between Soul and Spirit,[2635] has little to do with occult science, but gives too good a glimpse of medieval notions in the field of physiological psychology to pass it by. It was translated into Latin by John of Spain for Archbishop Raymond of Toledo in the twelfth century,[2636] and is found in many manuscripts, often together with the works of Aristotle.[2637] Probably by a confusion of the names Costa ben Luca and Constantinus[2638] it was printed among the latter’s works,[2639][Pg 658] and indeed we find very similar views in his Pantegni[2640] and in his treatise On Melancholy. The work has also been ascribed to Augustine,[2641] Isaac,[2642] Avicenna,[2643] Alexander Neckam, Thomas of Cantimpré, and Albertus Magnus.[2644] A different work with a similar title and somewhat similar contents is the De spiritu et anima, which is printed with the works of Augustine[2645] but which cites such later authors as Boethius, Isidore, Bede, Alcuin, St. Bernard, and Hugh of St. Victor, to whom also it has been attributed.[2646] Thomas Aquinas called it the work of an anonymous Cistercian.[2647] But to return to our treatise.

Another essay by Costa ben Luca, On the Difference between Soul and Spirit,[2635] is not really about occult science, but it provides a valuable insight into medieval ideas in physiological psychology. It was translated into Latin by John of Spain for Archbishop Raymond of Toledo in the twelfth century,[2636] and you can find it in many manuscripts, often alongside the works of Aristotle.[2637] Likely due to a mix-up between the names Costa ben Luca and Constantinus,[2638] it was published among the latter’s works,[2639][Pg 658] and indeed, we see very similar opinions in his Pantegni[2640] and in his essay On Melancholy. The work has also been credited to Augustine,[2641] Isaac,[2642] Avicenna,[2643] Alexander Neckam, Thomas of Cantimpré, and Albertus Magnus.[2644] A different work with a similar title and somewhat related content is the De spiritu et anima, which is printed with the works of Augustine[2645] but cites later authors like Boethius, Isidore, Bede, Alcuin, St. Bernard, and Hugh of St. Victor, to whom it has also been attributed.[2646] Thomas Aquinas referred to it as the work of an anonymous Cistercian.[2647] But let’s get back to our essay.

The nature of spiritus.

Costa ben Luca has, as we have hinted, some diverting passages in the fields of physiological psychology. He believes in the existence of spiritus, which is not spirit in one of our senses of that word, but “a subtle body,” unlike the soul which is incorporeal. This subtle spiritus perishes when separated from the body and it operates most of the vital processes of the body such as breathing and the pulse, sensation and movement. The two former processes are operated by spiritus “arising from the heart and borne in the pulsating veins to vivify the body.” The two latter processes are caused by spiritus which arises from the brain and operates through the nerves. Thus spiritus is the cause of life in the body and it leaves this mortal frame with our dying gasp. The clearer and more subtle this spiritus is, the more readily it lends itself to mental processes, while the more perfect the human body, the more perfect the spiritus and the human mind. Hence the intellectual powers of children and women are inferior, and the same is true of races subjected to excessive heat or cold like the Ethiopians or Slavs.[Pg 659] Here we have the same views repeated as in the Epistle concerning Incantation. Some physicians and philosophers think that there are two vessels in the heart and that there is more spiritus than blood in the left hand vessel and more blood than spiritus in the right hand vessel. The spiritus in the brain becomes more subtle and apt to receive the virtues of the soul by its passage from one cavity of the brain to another. The less subtle spiritus the brain uses for the five senses; Costa speaks of “hollow nerves” from the brain to the eye through which the spiritus passes for the purpose of vision. The most subtle spiritus is employed in the higher mental processes such as imagination, memory, and reason.

Costa ben Luca includes some interesting ideas in the area of physiological psychology. He believes in the existence of spiritus, which isn't spirit in the way we typically understand it, but rather "a subtle body," distinct from the incorporeal soul. This subtle spiritus dies when separated from the body and is responsible for many vital processes, like breathing, pulse, sensation, and movement. The first two processes are controlled by spiritus “arising from the heart and carried through the pulsating veins to energize the body.” The latter two are facilitated by spiritus originating in the brain and working through the nerves. Thus, spiritus is what gives life to the body, exiting with our final breath. The clearer and more refined this spiritus is, the more easily it can support mental activities, while a more perfect human body leads to a more perfect spiritus and mind. As a result, the intellectual abilities of children and women are considered lesser, and the same holds true for races that endure extreme temperatures, like Ethiopians or Slavs.[Pg 659] Here we see these same ideas reiterated as in the Epistle concerning Incantation. Some doctors and philosophers argue that there are two chambers in the heart, with more spiritus than blood in the left chamber and more blood than spiritus in the right. The spiritus in the brain becomes finer and better able to take on the qualities of the soul as it moves from one cavity of the brain to another. The less refined spiritus is used by the brain for the five senses; Costa mentions “hollow nerves” from the brain to the eye through which the spiritus travels for vision. The most refined spiritus is used in higher mental functions like imagination, memory, and reasoning.

Thought explained physiologically.

Costa ben Luca gives an amusing explanation of how these processes take place in the brain. The opening between the anterior and posterior ventricles of the brain is closed by a sort of valve which he describes as “a particle of the body of the brain similar to a worm.” When a man is in the act of recalling something to memory, this valve opens and the spiritus passes from the anterior to the posterior cavity. Moreover, the speed with which this valve works or responds differs in different brains, and this fact explains why some men are of slow memory and why others answer a question so much sooner. The habit of inclining the head when deep in cogitation is also to be explained as tending to open this valve. However, the relative subtlety of the spiritus is another important factor in intellectual ability.

Costa ben Luca gives a funny explanation of how these processes happen in the brain. The opening between the front and back ventricles of the brain is closed by a sort of valve that he describes as “a particle of the body of the brain similar to a worm.” When a person is trying to recall something, this valve opens and the spiritus moves from the front to the back cavity. Additionally, the speed at which this valve operates varies among different brains, which explains why some people have a slow memory and others answer questions much quicker. The habit of tilting the head when deep in thought is also said to help open this valve. However, the subtlety of the spiritus is another key factor in intellectual ability.

Views of other medieval writers.

Other medieval writers differed somewhat from these views of Costa ben Luca as to the nature of spiritus and the cavities of the brain. For instance, Constantinus Africanus in his treatise On Melancholy states that the spiritus of the brain is called the rational soul, which is inconsistent with the distinction drawn between soul and spirit in the other treatise. In the eleventh century both Constantinus in his Pantegni and Anatomy or De humana[Pg 660] natura,[2648] and Petrocellus the Salernitan in his Practica;[2649] in the twelfth century both Hildegard of Bingen[2650] and the Pseudo-Augustinian Liber de spiritu et anima;[2651] in the thirteenth century both Bartholomew of England, who seems to cite Johannitius (Hunain ibn Ishak) on this point,[2652] and Vincent of Beauvais agree that the brain has three main cavities. The first is phantastic, from which the senses are controlled, where the sensations are registered, and where the process of imagination goes on. The middle cell is logical or rational, and there the forms received from the senses and imagination are examined and judged. The third cell retains such forms as pass this examination and so is the seat of memory.[2653] The Pseudo-Augustine, however, represents it further as the source of motor activity. Constantinus and Vincent of Beauvais, who quotes him in the thirteenth century, further distinguish the phantastic cavity as hot and dry, the logical cell as cold and moist, and the seat of memory as cold and dry. Moreover, the phantastic cell which multiplies forms contains a great deal of spiritus and very little medulla, while the cell of memory which retains the smaller number of forms selected by reason contains much medulla and little spiritus. Thus the general point of view of these other authors resembles that of Costa ben Luca despite the divergence from him in details. They perhaps also owe something to Augustine, who in his genuine works speaks of the three cells of the brain but makes the[Pg 661] hind-brain the center of motor activity, and the mid-brain the seat of memory.[2654]

Other medieval writers had slightly different views from Costa ben Luca regarding the nature of spiritus and the brain's cavities. For example, Constantinus Africanus, in his treatise On Melancholy, claims that the spiritus of the brain is referred to as the rational soul, which contradicts the distinction made between soul and spirit in other writings. In the eleventh century, Constantinus in his Pantegni and Anatomy or De humana natura,[2648] along with Petrocellus the Salernitan in his Practica;[2649] in the twelfth century both Hildegard of Bingen[2650] and the Pseudo-Augustinian Liber de spiritu et anima;[2651] and in the thirteenth century both Bartholomew of England, who seems to reference Johannitius (Hunain ibn Ishak) on this matter,[2652] and Vincent of Beauvais agree that the brain consists of three main cavities. The first is phantastic, which controls the senses, where sensations are recorded, and where the imagination occurs. The middle cavity is logical or rational, where the forms received from the senses and imagination are evaluated and judged. The third cavity holds the forms that pass this evaluation and serves as the seat of memory.[2653] However, the Pseudo-Augustine further describes it as the source of motor activity. Constantinus and Vincent of Beauvais, who quotes him in the thirteenth century, further describe the phantastic cavity as hot and dry, the logical cell as cold and moist, and the memory seat as cold and dry. Additionally, the phantastic cell, which generates multiple forms, contains a lot of spiritus and very little medulla, while the memory cell, which retains fewer forms selected by reason, contains more medulla and less spiritus. Thus, the overall perspective of these other authors is similar to that of Costa ben Luca, despite differences in details. They may also owe some influence to Augustine, who in his genuine works discusses the three cells of the brain but identifies the hind-brain as the center of motor activity and the mid-brain as the seat of memory.[2654]

Thebit ben Corat.

Thabit ibn Kurrah ibn Marwan ibn Karaya ibn Ibrahim ibn Marinos ibn Salamanos (Abu Al Hasan) Al Harrani or Thabit ben Corrah ben Zahrun el Harrani, or Tabit ibn Qorra ibn Merwan, Abu’l-Hasan, el-Harrani, or Thabit ben Qorrah or Thabit ibn Qurra, or Tabit ibn Korrah, or Thabit ben Korra, as he is variously designated by modern scholars;[2655] or Thebit ben Corat, or Thebith ben Corath, or Thebit filius Core, or Thebites filius Chori, also Tabith, Tebith, Thabit, Thebeth, Thebyth, and Benchorac, ben corach, etc., as we find it in the medieval Latin versions—Thebit ben Corat seems the prevalent medieval spelling and so will be adopted here—was born at Harran in Mesopotamia about 836, spent much of his life at Bagdad, and lived until about 901.[2656] He wrote in Arabic as well as Syriac, but was not a Mohammedan, and Roger Bacon alludes to him as “the supreme philosopher among all Christians, who has added in many respects, speculative as well as practical, to the work of Ptolemy.”[2657] As a matter of fact, he was a heathen or pagan, a member of the sect of Sabians, whose chief seat was at his birthplace, Harran.

Thabit ibn Kurrah ibn Marwan ibn Karaya ibn Ibrahim ibn Marinos ibn Salamanos (Abu Al Hasan) Al Harrani or Thabit ben Corrah ben Zahrun el Harrani, or Tabit ibn Qorra ibn Merwan, Abu’l-Hasan, el-Harrani, or Thabit ben Qorrah or Thabit ibn Qurra, or Tabit ibn Korrah, or Thabit ben Korra, as he is variously designated by modern scholars;[2655] or Thebit ben Corat, or Thebith ben Corath, or Thebit filius Core, or Thebites filius Chori, also Tabith, Tebith, Thabit, Thebeth, Thebyth, and Benchorac, ben corach, etc., as we find it in the medieval Latin versions—Thebit ben Corat seems the prevalent medieval spelling and so will be adopted here—was born at Harran in Mesopotamia around 836, spent much of his life in Baghdad, and lived until about 901.[2656] He wrote in Arabic as well as Syriac, but was not a Muslim, and Roger Bacon refers to him as “the supreme philosopher among all Christians, who has added in many ways, both speculative and practical, to the work of Ptolemy.”[2657] In fact, he was a pagan, a member of the sect of Sabians, whose main center was at his birthplace, Harran.

The Sabians.

The Sabians appear to have continued the paganism and astrology of Babylonia, but also to have accepted the Agathodaemon and Hermes of Egypt,[2658] and to have had relations with Gnosticism and Neo-Platonism. They seem to have laid especial stress upon the spirits of the planets,[2659] to whom they made prayers, sacrifices, and suffumigations,[2660] while days on which the planets reached their culminating-points[Pg 662] were celebrated as festivals.[2661] They observed the houses and stations of the planets, their risings and settings, conjunctions and oppositions, and rule over certain hours of the day and night.[2662] Some planets were masculine, others feminine; some lucky, others unlucky;[2663] they were related to different metals;[2664] the different members of the human body were placed under different signs of the zodiac;[2665] and in general each planet had its own appropriate figures and forms, and ruled over certain climates, regions, and things[2666] in nature. Most of this, however, is astrological commonplace whether of pagans, Mohammedans, or Christians. Nor were the Sabians peculiar in associating intellectual substances or spirits with the planets.[2667] It was only in worshiping these and denying the existence of one God and in their practice of sacrificial divination that they could be distinguished as heathen or pagan. However, they seem to have devoted a rather unusual amount of attention to astrology and other forms of magic such as oracular heads,[2668] magic knots and figures,[2669] and seal-rings carved with peculiar animal figures. These last they often buried with the dead for a time in order to increase their virtue.[2670]

The Sabians seemed to have continued the paganism and astrology of Babylonia, while also embracing the Agathodaemon and Hermes from Egypt, and they had connections with Gnosticism and Neo-Platonism. They focused particularly on the spirits of the planets, to whom they offered prayers, sacrifices, and incense. They celebrated the days when the planets reached their peak as festivals. They observed the houses and positions of the planets, their risings and settings, conjunctions and oppositions, and their influence over specific hours of the day and night. Some planets were considered masculine, others feminine; some were seen as lucky, others as unlucky; they were linked to different metals; various parts of the human body corresponded to different zodiac signs; and generally, each planet had its own symbols and forms, governing certain climates, regions, and aspects of nature. Most of this, though, is fairly standard astrological knowledge whether among pagans, Muslims, or Christians. The Sabians weren’t unique in connecting intellectual entities or spirits with the planets. They could only be seen as heathen or pagan by worshipping these and denying the existence of one God and in their practice of sacrificial divination. However, they did seem to give a notable amount of attention to astrology and other types of magic, like oracular heads, magic knots and symbols, and seal rings carved with unusual animal designs. They often buried these last items with the dead for a time to enhance their power.

Thebit’s relations to Sabianism.

Thebit, at any rate, seems to have prided himself upon being a descendant of pagan antiquity. In a passage praising his native town he said, “We are the heirs and posterity of heathenism,”[2671] and he described with veneration a ruined Greek temple at Antioch.[2672] He had, however, some religious disagreement with the Sabians of Harran and was finally forced to leave.[2673] He met a philosopher who took him to Bagdad where he became one of the Caliph’s astronomers[2674] and founded there a Sabian community to his own taste.[Pg 663] His numerous religious writings show the value which he attached to various Sabian usages and rites: ceremonials at burials, hours of prayer, rules of purity and impurity and concerning the animals to be sacrificed, readings in honor of the different planets.[2675]

Thebit, anyway, seemed to take pride in being a descendant of pagan times. In a passage praising his hometown, he said, “We are the heirs and descendants of heathenism,”[2671] and he spoke reverently about a ruined Greek temple in Antioch.[2672] However, he had some religious disagreements with the Sabians of Harran and was eventually forced to leave.[2673] He met a philosopher who took him to Baghdad, where he became one of the Caliph’s astronomers[2674] and established a Sabian community that suited his preferences.[Pg 663] His numerous religious writings show the importance he placed on various Sabian customs and rituals: ceremonies at funerals, times for prayer, rules about purity and impurity, guidelines for the animals to be sacrificed, and readings in honor of the different planets.[2675]

Thebit as encyclopedist, philosopher, astronomer.

Thebit was a writer of encyclopedic range and translated from the Greek[2676] into Arabic or Syriac such authors as Apollonius, Archimedes, Aristotle, Euclid, Hippocrates, and Galen. He “was famed above all as a philosopher,”[2677] but most of his philosophical works are lost, but some geometrical treatises by him are extant, and a work on weights appears in Latin translation.[2678] A group of four astronomical treatises by him also occurs with fair frequency in medieval manuscripts.[2679] On the basis of these specimens of his astronomy Delambre was not moved to assign him any great place in the history of the science;[2680] Chwolson objects that they are too brief to do him justice,[2681] but they are probably the cream of his own contributions to the subject or the middle ages would not have translated and preserved them so sedulously.

Thebit was a writer with a wide-ranging knowledge and translated authors from Greek into Arabic or Syriac, including Apollonius, Archimedes, Aristotle, Euclid, Hippocrates, and Galen. He “was especially renowned as a philosopher,” but most of his philosophical works are lost. However, some of his geometric treatises still exist, and a work on weights is available in Latin translation. A set of four astronomical treatises by him also appears frequently in medieval manuscripts. Based on these examples of his astronomy, Delambre didn’t feel he deserved a significant spot in the history of the science; Chwolson argues that they are too brief to accurately represent his contributions, but they are likely the best of his work on the subject, or else the Middle Ages wouldn’t have translated and preserved them so diligently.

His occult science.

Whatever Thebit’s contributions to positive knowledge may or may not have been, there is no dispute as to the fact that he was given to occult science and even superstition. His attitude towards alchemy, indeed, is doubtful, as a work of alchemy is ascribed to him in one manuscript of[Pg 664] the fourteenth century and some notes against the art in another[2682]. But of his adhesion to astrology there is no doubt[2683], and Chwolson notes his interest in the mystic power of letters and magic combinations of them[2684]. But the one outstanding example of his occult science is his treatise on images, which seems to have been a favorite with the Latin middle ages, since it appears to have been translated into Latin twice, by Adelard of Bath[2685] and by John of Seville[2686],[Pg 665] since the manuscripts of it are numerous,[2687] and it also was printed,[2688] and since Thebit is cited as an authority on the subject of images by such medieval writers as Roger Bacon, Albertus Magnus,[2689] the author of Picatrix,[2690] Peter of Abano,[2691] and Cecco d’Ascoli.[2692]

Whatever Thebit’s contributions to positive knowledge may or may not have been, it’s clear that he was deeply involved in occult science and even superstition. His stance on alchemy is uncertain; one manuscript from the fourteenth century attributes an alchemical work to him, while another contains notes critical of the art. However, there is no doubt about his commitment to astrology, and Chwolson highlights his fascination with the mystical power of letters and their magical combinations. The most notable example of his work in occult science is his treatise on images, which seems to have been quite popular in the Latin Middle Ages, as it appears to have been translated into Latin twice, by Adelard of Bath and by John of Seville, given the numerous manuscripts that exist, and it was also printed. Thebit is referenced as an authority on the subject of images by medieval writers such as Roger Bacon, Albertus Magnus, the author of Picatrix, Peter of Abano, and Cecco d'Ascoli.

Astrological and magic images.

The work begins by emphasizing the need of a knowledge of astronomy in order to perform feats of magic (praestigia). The images described are astronomical or astrological and must be constructed under prescribed constellations in order to fulfill the end sought. Often, however, they are human forms rather than astronomical figures. It is not necessary to engrave them upon gems; Thebit expressly states that the material of which they are made or[Pg 666] upon which they are engraved is unimportant, and that lead or tin or bronze or gold or silver or wax or mud or anything you please will do. The essential thing and “the perfection of mastery” is careful conformity to astrological conditions. This science of images is indeed, as Aristotle and Ptolemy have testified, the acme of astrology. Nevertheless, after the image has been properly constructed, there is usually some non-astrological ceremony to be executed in connection with it which savors of magic. Often the image is to be buried, not however in a grave as in the case of the ancient curses upon lead tablets, but in the house of someone concerned. Once two images are to be placed facing each other and wrapped in a clean cloth before burying them. Instructions are also given as to the direction in which the person burying the image should face. Also forms of words are prescribed which are to be repeated as the image is buried. Once the name of the person whom it is desired to injure is to be written with “names of hate on the back of the image.” Among the objects supposed to be achieved by such images are driving off scorpions, destroying a given region, causing misfortunes to happen to others, recovery of stolen objects, success in business or politics, protection from possible injury at the hands of the king, or the causing of an enemy’s death by bringing him into disfavor with the monarch. The treatise closes, at least in the printed text, with an admission of its essentially magic character by saying, “And this is what God the highest wished to reveal to his servants concerning magic, that His name may be honored and praised and ever exalted through the ages.” But no mention is made of demons, unless an instruction to name one image “by a famous name” alludes to some spirit.

The work starts by stressing the importance of understanding astronomy to perform magical acts (praestigia). The images described are astronomical or astrological and need to be created under specific constellations to achieve the desired results. However, they often take on human forms instead of just astronomical shapes. It's not essential to engrave them on gemstones; Thebit clearly states that the material used or [Pg 666] the surface they are engraved on doesn’t really matter. Any material will suffice, whether it’s lead, tin, bronze, gold, silver, wax, mud, or whatever you choose. The key factor, and what represents “the perfection of mastery,” is the careful adherence to astrological conditions. This science of images is indeed, as Aristotle and Ptolemy have noted, the pinnacle of astrology. Still, after the image is properly made, there’s usually some non-astrological ritual to perform connected to it that has a magical feel. Often, the image is to be buried, but not in a grave like the old curses on lead tablets; instead, it’s buried in the house of someone involved. Sometimes, two images are meant to face each other and are wrapped in a clean cloth before being buried. There are also directions on which way the person burying the image should face. Specific phrases are required to be repeated during the burial. At one point, the name of the person you want to harm is to be written along with “names of hate” on the back of the image. The intended results of such images include driving off scorpions, destroying a specific area, causing bad luck for others, recovering stolen items, achieving success in business or politics, protecting oneself from potential harm by the king, or even causing an enemy’s death by making them fall out of favor with the ruler. The treatise concludes, at least in the printed version, by acknowledging its fundamentally magical nature, stating, “And this is what God the highest wished to reveal to his servants concerning magic, that His name may be honored and praised and ever exalted through the ages.” However, there’s no mention of demons, unless the instruction to name one image “by a famous name” hints at some spirit.

We shall now conclude the present survey with some account of Rasis and his writings, with the exception of a number of books of experiments ascribed to him, but which it is impossible to separate from those ascribed to Galen[Pg 667] and other authors, and of which we shall treat later under the head of such experimental literature.

We will now wrap up this survey with a brief overview of Rasis and his writings, excluding several books of experiments that are attributed to him but can't be clearly distinguished from those attributed to Galen[Pg 667] and other authors. We will discuss those later under the topic of experimental literature.

Life of Rasis.

The full name of Rasis or Rhazes was Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn Zakariya ar-Razi,[2693] the last word indicating his birthplace in Persia. The date of his birth is uncertain, perhaps about 850. He died in 923 or 924.[2694] For the facts of his life we are dependent upon two Arabic writers of the thirteenth century[2695] who do little except tell one “good” story after another about him, or quote his famous sayings, most of which sound as if culled from the works of Galen. When about thirty years of age Rasis came to Bagdad and is said to have been attracted to the study of medicine by hearing how an inflamed and swollen forearm which gave great pain was marvelously cured by the application of an herb, which came to be called “the vivifier of the world.” In the early years of the tenth century Rasis served as physician in the hospital at Bagdad. According to Withington he has been called “the first and most original of the great Moslem physicians.” He also was interested in philosophy and alchemy, as his writings will show.

The full name of Rasis or Rhazes was Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn Zakariya ar-Razi,[2693] with the last name indicating his birthplace in Persia. The exact date of his birth is unclear, but it was around 850. He passed away in 923 or 924.[2694] For information about his life, we rely on two Arabic writers from the thirteenth century[2695] who mostly just recount various “good” stories about him or quote his famous sayings, many of which seem like they were taken from Galen's works. When he was about thirty, Rasis moved to Baghdad and is said to have been drawn to medicine after hearing about how a painful, inflamed, and swollen forearm was miraculously healed with an herb that became known as “the vivifier of the world.” In the early 10th century, Rasis worked as a physician in the hospital in Baghdad. According to Withington, he has been referred to as “the first and most original of the great Muslim physicians.” He was also interested in philosophy and alchemy, as his writings demonstrate.

His 232 works.

There has come down to us a list of some 232 works ascribed to Rasis.[2696] Some of them are probably merely different wordings of the same title, others are very likely chapters repeated from his longer works, but at any rate they serve to give us some idea of his interests and the[Pg 668] ground he covered, although of course some may be incorrectly attributed to him. Editions of the Latin translations of some of his chief medical works were printed before the end of the fifteenth century at Milan in 1481 and Bergamo in 1497.[2697] These contain the famous Liber Almansoris or Liber El-Mansuri dictus with its ten subordinate treatises: (1) introduction to medicine and discussion of human anatomy, (2) the doctrine of temperaments and humors and a discussion of the art of physiognomy,[2698] with a chapter on how to select slaves, (3) diet and drugs, (4) hygiene, (5) cosmetics, (6) rules of health and medicines for travelers, (7) surgery or “the art of binding up broken bones and concerning wounds and ulcers,” (8) poisons, (9) treatment of diseases from head to foot, (10) fevers. Following this in both editions come his works on Divisions, on diseases of the joints, on the diseases of children, and his Aphorisms or six books of medicinal secrets. Other writings by Rasis found in one or both of the printed editions are a brief treatise on Surgery, Cautery, and Leeches,[2699] the book of Synonyms, the table of antidotes, and some others which we shall have occasion to mention later. His treatise on the pestilence or on smallpox and measles was printed many times from the fifteenth to sixteenth century.

A list of about 232 works attributed to Rasis has been passed down to us.[2696] Some of these are likely just different phrasings of the same title, while others probably consist of chapters repeated from his longer writings. Regardless, they give us an insight into his interests and the topics he covered, although some might be misattributed to him. Editions of the Latin translations of some of his major medical works were published before the end of the fifteenth century in Milan in 1481 and in Bergamo in 1497.[2697] These include the well-known Liber Almansoris or Liber El-Mansuri dictus with its ten related treatises: (1) an introduction to medicine and a discussion of human anatomy, (2) the theories of temperaments and humors along with a discussion on the art of physiognomy,[2698] including a chapter on how to choose slaves, (3) diet and medications, (4) hygiene, (5) cosmetics, (6) health guidelines and medicines for travelers, (7) surgery or "the art of binding up broken bones and dealing with wounds and ulcers," (8) poisons, (9) how to treat diseases from head to toe, (10) fevers. Following this in both editions are his writings on Divisions, joint diseases, children’s diseases, and his Aphorisms or six books of medicinal secrets. Other writings by Rasis found in one or both of the printed editions include a short treatise on Surgery, Cautery, and Leeches,[2699] the book of Synonyms, the antidote table, and several others that we will mention later. His treatise on the plague or on smallpox and measles was printed numerous times from the fifteenth to sixteenth century.

Charlatans discussed.

In the list of 232 titles are three works which all seem to bear on the same point and are perhaps different descriptions of one treatise, or else show that this was a favorite theme with Rasis. The idea in all three seems to be that no physician is perfect or can cure all diseases of all patients,[Pg 669] that this is why many persons go to charlatans, and why sometimes quacks, old-wives, and popular practice succeed in certain cases where the most learned doctors have failed.[2700]

In the list of 232 titles, there are three works that all seem to focus on the same idea and may be different descriptions of one treatise, or show that this was a favorite topic for Rasis. The main point in all three appears to be that no physician is perfect or can cure all diseases in all patients,[Pg 669] which is why many people turn to charlatans, and sometimes quacks, old wives, and popular remedies succeed in certain cases where the most educated doctors have failed.[2700]

His interest in natural science.

Other titles show that Rasis was interested in natural science and not merely in the practice of medicine. Besides what would appear to have been a general treatise entitled, Opinions concerning Natural Things, he wrote on optics, holding that vision was not by rays sent forth from the eye, and discussing some of the figures in the work on optics ascribed to Euclid. In a letter he inquired into the reason for the creation of wild beasts and venomous reptiles; and in a third treatise wrote of the magnet’s attraction for iron and of vacuums.[2701] His interest in natural philosophy of a rather theoretical sort is indicated by an Explanation of the book of Plutarch or commentary on the book of Timaeus.[2702] Other titles attest his experimental tendency.[2703]

Other titles show that Rasis was interested in natural science and not just in practicing medicine. In addition to what seems to have been a general treatise called, Opinions concerning Natural Things, he wrote about optics, arguing that vision isn't caused by rays emitted from the eye, and discussed some of the figures in the optics work attributed to Euclid. In a letter, he questioned the reason for the creation of wild animals and poisonous reptiles; and in a third treatise, he wrote about the magnet's ability to attract iron and about vacuums.[2701] His interest in more theoretical natural philosophy is shown in an Explanation of the book of Plutarch or commentary on the book of Timaeus.[2702] Other titles confirm his experimental approach.[2703]

Rasis and alchemy.

Eight titles deal with alchemy[2704] and show that Rasis regarded transmutation as possible. One is a reply to Alkindi who held the opposite opinion.[2705] None of these writings seem to be extant in Arabic, however, and the Latin works of alchemy ascribed to Rasis are generally regarded as spurious. The thirteenth century encyclopedist, Vincent[Pg 670] of Beauvais, made a number of citations from the treatise De salibus et aluminibus attributed to Rasis, but Berthelot[2706] regarded this work as later than Rasis and it is not found among our eight titles. The Lumen luminis, which is ascribed to Rasis[2707] and seems to have been translated by Michael Scot[2708] in the early thirteenth century, is also mainly devoted to these two substances, salts and alums. A Book of Seventy is ascribed to Rasis as well as to Geber. Berthelot was inclined to think that a Book of Secrets perhaps went back to Rasis. At least some good stories are told by Arabic chroniclers of Rasis’ connection with alchemy. One is to the effect that he abandoned the art as a result of a sound beating to which the caliph subjected him when he failed to transmute metals at order. Another states that in preparing the elixir he injured his eyes with its vapors and was cured by a physician who charged him a fee of five hundred dinars. Rasis paid the doctor’s bill, but, remarking that at last he had discovered the true alchemy and the best art of making gold, devoted the remainder of his life to the study and practice of medicine.[2709]

Eight titles deal with alchemy[2704] and show that Rasis believed transmutation was possible. One is a response to Alkindi, who disagreed. [2705] However, none of these writings appear to survive in Arabic, and the Latin works of alchemy attributed to Rasis are generally considered fake. The thirteenth-century encyclopedist, Vincent[Pg 670] of Beauvais, cited several times from the treatise De salibus et aluminibus associated with Rasis, but Berthelot[2706] thought this work was later than Rasis and it isn’t listed among our eight titles. The Lumen luminis, attributed to Rasis[2707] and thought to be translated by Michael Scot[2708] in the early thirteenth century, is also primarily focused on these two substances, salts, and alums. A Book of Seventy is credited to Rasis as well as to Geber. Berthelot believed that a Book of Secrets may trace back to Rasis. There are some interesting stories told by Arabic historians regarding Rasis' involvement with alchemy. One suggests he abandoned the art after being severely beaten by the caliph for failing to turn metals into gold on command. Another claims that while preparing the elixir, he harmed his eyes with its fumes and was treated by a physician who charged him five hundred dinars. Rasis paid the doctor’s fee but noted that he had finally uncovered the true alchemy and the best method of making gold, dedicating the rest of his life to studying and practicing medicine.[2709]

Titles suggestive of astrology and magic.

Rasis also wrote treatises on mathematics and the stars but it is not always easy to infer their contents from the titles which have alone reached us or to tell when mathematica means astrology. In one work he seems to have shown the excellence and utility of mathematica, but to have confuted those who extolled it beyond measure.[2710] In a letter he denied that the rising and setting of the sun and other planets was because of the earth’s motion and held that it was due to the movement of the celestial orb.[2711] In another letter he discussed the opinion of natural philosophers concerning the sciences of the stars and whether or[Pg 671] not the stars were living beings.[2712] Rasis also discussed the difference between dreams from which the future can be forecast and other dreams.[2713] The title, Of exorcisms, fascinations, and incantations, under which, according to Negri’s Latin translation Rasis discussed the causes and cures of diseases by these methods and magic arts, should, in Ranking’s opinion, be more accurately translated as The Book of Divisions and Branches.[2714] A work On the Necessity of Prayer is also included in the list of 232 works ascribed to Rasis,[2715] while a Lapidary produced for Wenzel II of Bohemia (1278-1305) cites Rasis On the virtues of words and characters.[2716]

Rasis also wrote treatises on math and astronomy, but it's not always easy to figure out their contents based on the titles that have survived or to know when mathematica refers to astrology. In one work, he seems to have demonstrated the value and usefulness of mathematica, but he refuted those who praised it excessively. [2710] In a letter, he denied that the sun's and other planets' rising and setting was due to the earth's motion and argued that it was because of the movement of the celestial sphere. [2711] In another letter, he examined the views of natural philosophers regarding the sciences of the stars and whether the stars were living beings or not. [2712] Rasis also explored the distinction between prophetic dreams and ordinary dreams. [2713] The title Of exorcisms, fascinations, and incantations, under which, according to Negri’s Latin translation, Rasis discussed the causes and treatments of diseases through these methods and magical arts, should, in Ranking’s opinion, be more accurately translated as The Book of Divisions and Branches. [2714] A work titled On the Necessity of Prayer is also included in the list of 232 works attributed to Rasis, [2715] while a Lapidary produced for Wenzel II of Bohemia (1278-1305) references Rasis' work On the virtues of words and characters. [2716]

Conclusion.

Herewith we conclude our present survey of Arabian occult science especially in the ninth century, although in the following chapters we shall frequently encounter its influence. We have found the occult science closely associated with natural science and difficult to sever from it. In the authors and works reviewed we have found both scepticism and superstition, both rationalism and empiricism. But perhaps the most impressive point is that even superstition pretends to be or attempts to be scientific.

Here, we conclude our current overview of Arabian occult science, particularly in the ninth century. However, in the upcoming chapters, we will often see its influence. We've discovered that occult science is closely linked to natural science and challenging to separate from it. In the authors and works we've examined, there is a mix of skepticism and superstition, as well as rationalism and empiricism. But perhaps the most striking point is that even superstition tries to present itself as scientific.


[Pg 672]

[Pg 672]

CHAPTER XXIX
LATIN ASTROLOGY AND DIVINATION: ESPECIALLY IN THE NINTH, TENTH, AND ELEVENTH CENTURIES

Astrology in Gaul before the twelfth century—Figures of astrological medicine—The divine quaternities of Raoul Glaber—Celestial portents and other marvels—An eleventh century calendar—Astrology and divination in ecclesiastical compoti—Notker on the mystic date of Easter—Prediction from the Kalends of January—Other divination by the day of the week—Divination by the day of the moon—Authorship of moon-books—Spheres of life and death: in Greek—Medieval Latin versions—Survival of such methods in medical practice of about 1400—Egyptian days—Their history—Medieval attempts to explain them—Other perilous days—Firmicus read by an archbishop of York—Relation of Latin astrology to Arabic—Appendix I. Some manuscripts of the Sphere of Pythagoras or Apuleius—Appendix II. Egyptian days in early medieval manuscripts.

Astrology in Gaul before the twelfth century—Figures of astrological medicine—The divine quaternities of Raoul Glaber—Celestial portents and other wonders—An eleventh-century calendar—Astrology and divination in ecclesiastical compoti—Notker on the mystic date of Easter—Predictions from the Kalends of January—Other divination related to the day of the week—Divination according to the lunar day—Authorship of moon-books—Spheres of life and death: in Greek—Medieval Latin versions—How these methods survived in medical practice around 1400—Egyptian days—their history—Medieval attempts to explain them—Other perilous days—Firmicus read by an archbishop of York—The relationship between Latin astrology and Arabic—Appendix I. Some manuscripts of the Sphere of Pythagoras or Apuleius—Appendix II. Egyptian days in early medieval manuscripts.

Astrology in Gaul before the twelfth century.

Astrology had continued to flourish in Gaul in the last declining days of the Roman Empire, despite the strictures of Christian writers and clergy,[2717] and it was one of the first subjects to revive after the darkness of the Merovingian period. Two centuries ago Goujet in a treatise on the state of the sciences in France from the death of Charlemagne to that of King Robert noted that from the reign of Charlemagne astronomy continued to be increasingly studied. “The councils in their decrees, the bishops in their statutes, the kings in their capitularies, expressly recommended the study of it to the clergy.”[2718] With the study of astronomy naturally developed a belief in astrology. According to the Histoire Littéraire de la France it became quite the fashion during the reign of Louis the[Pg 673] Pious, Charlemagne’s successor, when we are told that there was no great lord but had his own astrologer. Adalmus, before he became abbot of Castres, wasted much time upon this pseudo-science, and Rabanus Maurus showed tendencies in that direction. In the tenth century such celestial phenomena as comets and eclipses were feared as sinister portents, and men resorted to enchantments, auguries, and other forms of divination.[2719] A brief treatise in a manuscript of the ninth century in the Vatican library also develops the thesis that comets signify disasters.[2720] In the eleventh century Engelbert, a monk of Liège, and Odo, teacher at Tournai, were devoted to the study of the stars; and Gilbert Maminot, bishop of Lisieux, and for a time chaplain and physician to William the Conqueror, would rather spend his nights in star-gazing than in sleep. “But what was the outcome of all this toil and study?” inquires the Histoire Littéraire and replies to its own question, “The making of some wretched astrologers and not a single true astronomer!”[2721]

Astrology continued to thrive in Gaul during the declining days of the Roman Empire, despite the criticism from Christian writers and clergy, and it was one of the first subjects to make a comeback after the dark Merovingian period. Two centuries ago, Goujet noted in a treatise on the state of sciences in France from Charlemagne's death to King Robert's that astronomy became increasingly studied starting in Charlemagne's reign. “The councils in their decrees, the bishops in their statutes, the kings in their capitularies, explicitly encouraged the clergy to study it.” With the study of astronomy naturally came a belief in astrology. According to the Histoire Littéraire de la France, it became quite fashionable during the reign of Louis the Pious, Charlemagne's successor, when it was said that every major lord had his own astrologer. Adalmus, before becoming the abbot of Castres, spent a lot of time on this pseudo-science, and Rabanus Maurus showed similar inclinations. In the tenth century, celestial events like comets and eclipses were feared as bad omens, leading people to resort to magic, omens, and other forms of divination. A brief treatise in a ninth-century manuscript in the Vatican library also argues that comets indicate disasters. In the eleventh century, Engelbert, a monk from Liège, and Odo, a teacher in Tournai, were dedicated to studying the stars. Gilbert Maminot, bishop of Lisieux, who was also a chaplain and physician to William the Conqueror for a time, preferred to spend his nights stargazing rather than sleeping. “But what was the outcome of all this toil and study?” asks the Histoire Littéraire and answers its own question, “The creation of some miserable astrologers and not a single true astronomer!”

Figures of astrological medicine.

These words were written nearly two hundred years ago, but such a recent investigation of manuscripts in French libraries as that of Wickersheimer on figures illustrative of astrological medicine from the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries has on the whole confirmed the importance of astrology in the meager learning of that time.[2722] The manuscripts in English libraries, I have found, tell a similar story. Of the human figures marked with the twelve signs of the zodiac, which become so common in the manuscripts by the fourteenth century, and in which the head rests upon the[Pg 674] Ram, the feet on Pisces, while the intervening members of the body are marked by their respective signs,—of these Wickersheimer found none before the twelfth century. But in a medical manuscript of the eleventh century the twelve signs with their names and the names of the parts of the human body to which they apply are grouped about a half figure of Christ, who has His right hand raised to bless, while about His head is a halo or sun-disk with twelve rays.[2723] Less favorable to astrology is the accompanying legend, “According to the ravings of the philosophers the twelve signs are thus denoted.” On the page following the text describes the twelve signs “according to the Gentiles.” Schemes in which the world, the year, and man were associated, and where are shown the four elements, four seasons, four humors, four temperaments, four ages, four cardinal points, and four winds, are frequently found in extant manuscripts of the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries.[2724]

These words were written nearly two hundred years ago, but a more recent investigation of manuscripts in French libraries, like Wickersheimer's study on figures related to astrological medicine from the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries, has largely confirmed the significance of astrology in the limited knowledge of that time.[2722] The manuscripts in English libraries also tell a similar story. Of the human figures labeled with the twelve signs of the zodiac, which became quite common in manuscripts by the fourteenth century, where the head is placed on the Ram and the feet on Pisces, while the intervening parts of the body are marked by their respective signs—Wickersheimer found no examples of these before the twelfth century. However, in an eleventh-century medical manuscript, the twelve signs with their names and the names of the parts of the human body to which they correspond are grouped around a half figure of Christ, who has His right hand raised to bless, with a halo or sun-disk around His head featuring twelve rays.[2723] The accompanying legend is less supportive of astrology, stating, “According to the ravings of the philosophers, the twelve signs are thus denoted.” The following page describes the twelve signs “according to the Gentiles.” Schemes associating the world, the year, and humanity, often depicting the four elements, four seasons, four humors, four temperaments, four ages, four cardinal points, and four winds, frequently appear in surviving manuscripts from the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries.[2724]

The divine quaternities of Raoul Glaber.

Such association reminds one of the opening of the chronicle of Raoul Glaber, written in the eleventh century, “Since we are to treat of events in the four quarters of the earth, it will be well to touch first upon the power of divine and abstract quaternity.” There are four elements, he gives us to understand, four virtues and four senses. There are four Gospels and they have their relation to the four elements. Matthew, dealing with Christ’s incarnation, corresponds to earth; Mark to water, since it emphasizes baptism; Luke to air, because it is the longest Gospel;[Pg 675] and John to fire or ether as the most spiritual. In like manner can be associated with the four cardinal virtues those four famous rivers which had their sources in Paradise: Phison and prudence, Geon and temperance, the Tigris and fortitude, the Euphrates and justice. Finally the ages of the world are found to be four by Raoul, instead of the six eras corresponding to the days of creation which we find in Isidore, Bede, and other medieval historians; and these four ages also relate to the four virtues. The days of Abel, Enoch, and Noah were days of prudence; but on leaving Noah we have temperance marking the age of Abraham and the patriarchs; fortitude is the feature of the time of Moses and the prophets; while justice characterizes the period since the incarnation of the Word.

Such a connection brings to mind the beginning of Raoul Glaber's chronicle, written in the eleventh century: “Since we are going to discuss events across the four corners of the earth, it makes sense to first mention the significance of divine and abstract quaternity.” He implies that there are four elements, four virtues, and four senses. There are four Gospels, which relate to the four elements. Matthew, focusing on Christ’s incarnation, corresponds to earth; Mark relates to water, emphasizing baptism; Luke connects with air, as it is the longest Gospel;[Pg 675] and John represents fire or ether as the most spiritual. Similarly, these four famous rivers originating in Paradise can be linked to the four cardinal virtues: Phison to prudence, Geon to temperance, the Tigris to fortitude, and the Euphrates to justice. Finally, Raoul identifies four ages of the world, rather than the six eras associated with the days of creation that we find in Isidore, Bede, and other medieval historians; these four ages also correspond to the four virtues. The days of Abel, Enoch, and Noah were characterized by prudence; moving past Noah, we find temperance defining the age of Abraham and the patriarchs; fortitude describes the time of Moses and the prophets; while justice defines the period since the incarnation of the Word.

Celestial portents and other marvels.

The faith of Raoul and his contemporaries in the mystic significance of numbers, if not also in astrology, and the fact that they were constantly on the lookout for portents and prodigies, are further attested by the stress laid in his chronicle upon the thousandth anniversaries of Christ’s birth and of His passion. Says Raoul, “After the multiplicity of prodigies which, although some came a little before and some a trifle afterwards, happened in the world around the thousandth year of Christ the Lord, there were many industrious men of sagacious mind who prophesied that there would be others not inferior to these in the thousandth year of our Lord’s passion.” That they were not mistaken in this premonition he shows later by several chapters, including an account of the eclipse of the sun in that year. Like many another medieval historian, Raoul is careful to note the appearance of comets—in the Bayeux tapestry of the same century one marks the death of Edward the Confessor; Raoul also believes that if a living person is visited by spirits, either good or evil, it is a sign of his approaching death; he holds the usual view that demons may sometimes work marvels by divine permission, and tells of a magician-impostor whom he saw work miracles upon pseudo-relics.[Pg 676] But from the superstition of medieval chroniclers we must turn back to astrological manuscripts proper.

The belief of Raoul and his peers in the mystical significance of numbers, and possibly in astrology, along with their constant search for omens and wonders, is further highlighted by his chronicling of the thousandth anniversaries of Christ's birth and his passion. Raoul notes, "After the numerous wonders that occurred around the thousandth year of Christ the Lord—some a little before and others a bit after—many diligent and thoughtful individuals predicted that there would be additional occurrences just as noteworthy in the thousandth year of our Lord's passion." He later proves they were correct in this intuition by detailing several events, including the solar eclipse that year. Like many medieval historians, Raoul is careful to mention the appearances of comets—in the Bayeux tapestry from the same century, one marks the death of Edward the Confessor. Raoul also believes that if someone is visited by spirits, whether good or evil, it is a sign of their impending death; he holds the common view that demons may occasionally perform wonders with divine permission and recounts an incident involving a magician-fraud he witnessed performing miracles with fake relics.[Pg 676] However, we must shift from the superstitions of medieval chroniclers back to astrological manuscripts.

An eleventh century calendar.

An eleventh century calendar at Amiens[2725] reveals both a simple form of astrological medicine and a belief in some peculiar significance of the number seven, whether as a sacred or an astrological number. At the head of each month are brief instructions as to what herbs to use during that month, as to bleeding and bathing, and what disease may most easily be cured then.[2726] In the same manuscript one miniature shows someone striking seven bells with a hammer, perhaps as notes in a scale, and another miniature represents a seven-branched candlestick, of which the branches are respectively labeled, “Spirit of piety, Spirit of fortitude, Spirit of intellect, Spirit of wisdom, Spirit of prudence, Spirit of science, Spirit of the fear of God.”[2727]

An eleventh-century calendar from Amiens reveals a basic form of astrological medicine and a belief in the special significance of the number seven, whether as a sacred or astrological figure. At the beginning of each month, there are short instructions on which herbs to use, guidance on bleeding and bathing, and information about which diseases can be most easily treated during that time. In the same manuscript, one illustration shows someone striking seven bells with a hammer, possibly representing notes in a scale, while another illustration depicts a seven-branched candlestick, with each branch labeled: “Spirit of piety, Spirit of fortitude, Spirit of intellect, Spirit of wisdom, Spirit of prudence, Spirit of science, Spirit of the fear of God.”

Astrology and divination in ecclesiastical Compoti.

Indeed works of astrology and divination are especially likely to be found in the same manuscripts with ecclesiastical calendars and computi. Computus or compotus, as one manuscript states, was “the science considering times.”[2728] For example, in a brief compotus of the ninth century[2729] a divining sphere of Pythagoras occurs twice, and we have also a moon book, an account of the Egyptian days, and a method of divination from winds. In a twelfth century manuscript,[2730] sandwiched in between calendars and reckonings of Easter and eclipses and Bede’s work On the Natures of Things, are a sphere of divination, an account of Egyptian days, a method of divination from thunder, and a portion of a work on judicial astrology beginning with the eleventh chapter which tells how to determine whether anyone will be poor or rich by inspection of the planet in his nativity.[2731]

Indeed, works on astrology and divination are often found in the same manuscripts as church calendars and computi. Computus or compotus, as one manuscript states, was “the science that deals with time.”[2728] For example, in a brief compotus from the ninth century[2729], a divining sphere of Pythagoras appears twice, along with a book on the moon, an account of Egyptian days, and a method for divination using winds. In a twelfth-century manuscript,[2730] nestled between calendars and calculations of Easter, eclipses, and Bede’s work On the Natures of Things, there’s a divination sphere, an account of Egyptian days, a method for divination using thunder, and part of a work on judicial astrology that starts with the eleventh chapter, explaining how to determine whether someone will be poor or wealthy by examining the planet in their birth chart.[2731]

[Pg 677]

[Pg 677]

Notker on the mystic date of Easter.

The very dating of Easter itself might be the occasion for indulging in mystic speculation of a semi-astrological nature. Thus Notker Labeo, c 950-1022, the well-known monk of St. Gall,[2732] in a treatise to his disciple Erkenhard on four questions of compotus,[2733] states that the principal problem, with which all others are connected, is that of the date of Easter. He gives the time as in the first full moon after the vernal equinox, but adds that this is because of a certain mystery. For if there were no mystery connected with the date of Easter, and it merely celebrated like other festivals the memory of an event which once happened, there is no doubt but that it would occur every year without variation upon the twenty-seventh of March, which was the day of the Lord’s resurrection. But as after the vernal equinox the days grow longer than the nights, and as at the full of the moon its splendor is revolved on high, so we should overcome the darkness of sin by the light of piety and faith and turn our minds from earthly to celestial things, if we wish to celebrate Easter worthily.

The actual timing of Easter could provoke some deep, almost astrological thoughts. Notker Labeo, who lived from around 950 to 1022 and was a well-known monk at St. Gall, discussed this in a treatise for his disciple Erkenhard about four questions concerning compotus. He mentions that the main issue, which connects to all others, is determining the date of Easter. He explains that it falls on the first full moon after the spring equinox, but notes that this is tied to a certain mystery. If there were no mystery surrounding Easter's date, and it simply marked the memory of an event that happened in the past, it would definitely be celebrated every year without fail on March 27, which is when the Lord resurrected. However, as the days become longer than the nights after the spring equinox, and as the moon shines brightly in the sky, we should overcome the darkness of sin with the light of devotion and faith, turning our focus from earthly matters to heavenly ones if we want to celebrate Easter in a meaningful way.

Prediction from the Kalends of January.

But let us consider in more detail the methods of divination found in such manuscripts. Simplest of all perhaps are predictions as to the character of the ensuing year according to the day of the week upon which the first of January falls. For example, “If the kalends of January shall be on the Lord’s day, the winter will be good and mild and warm, the spring windy, and the summer dry. Good vintage, increasing flocks; honey will be abundant; the old men will die; and peace will be made.”[2734] In some[Pg 678] manuscripts these predictions concerning the weather, crops, wars, and king for the ensuing year are called Supputatio Esdrae or signs which God revealed to the prophet Esdras.[2735] In another manuscript[2736] the weather for winter and summer is predicted according to the day of the week upon which Christmas falls and Lent begins. Christmas of course was sometimes regarded as the first day of the new year and in any case it falls on the same day of the week as the following first of January. In a ninth century manuscript[2737] predictions for the ensuing year are made according as there is wind in the night on Christmas eve and the eleven nights following. For instance, “If there is wind in the night on the night of the natal day of our Lord Jesus Christ, in[Pg 679] that year kings and pontiffs will perish,” and “If on twelfth night there shall be wind, kings will perish in war.”

But let’s take a closer look at the methods of divination found in these manuscripts. The simplest of all might be predictions about the character of the upcoming year based on the day of the week when January 1 falls. For example, “If January 1 is on a Sunday, the winter will be good, mild, and warm, the spring will be windy, and the summer will be dry. The harvest will be good, flocks will increase; honey will be plentiful; old men will die; and peace will be established.”[2734] In some[Pg 678] manuscripts, these predictions about the weather, crops, wars, and the king for the upcoming year are called Supputatio Esdrae, or signs that God revealed to the prophet Esdras.[2735] In another manuscript[2736], the weather for winter and summer is predicted based on the day of the week when Christmas and Lent begin. Christmas, of course, was sometimes seen as the first day of the new year, and in any case, it falls on the same day of the week as the following January 1. In a ninth-century manuscript[2737], predictions for the upcoming year are made according to whether there is wind on Christmas Eve and the eleven nights that follow. For instance, “If there is wind on the night of the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ, that year kings and high officials will perish,” and “If there’s wind on Twelfth Night, kings will perish in battle.”

Other divination by the day of the week

Divination from thunder is another form of judicial astrology, if it may so be called, found in these early manuscripts. Perhaps the simplest variety of it is according to the day of the week on which thunder is heard.[2738] Predictions were also made according to the month in which thunder was heard,[2739] or the direction from which it was heard.[2740] It may be recalled that the three chapters of Bede’s translation of some work on divination from thunder had been respectively devoted to these three methods by the direction from which the thunder is heard, the month, and the day of the week. Nativities of infants are also given according to the day of the week on which they are born, and further taking into account whether the hour of birth is diurnal or nocturnal.[2741] It is also regarded as important to note upon which day of the week the new moon occurs,[2742] and we are further informed of the various hours of the days of the week when it is advisable to perform blood-letting.[2743] In a method of divination according to the day of the week and the letters in the boy’s or girl’s name the Lord’s day is assigned the number thirteen, the day “of the moon” eighteen, and that “of Mars” fifteen.[2744] Since[Pg 680] the days of the week bore the names of the planets, it was not strange that they should have been credited with something of the virtues of the stars.

Divination based on thunder is another type of judicial astrology, if that's what we can call it, found in these early manuscripts. The simplest version is based on the day of the week when thunder is heard.[2738] Predictions were also made based on the month in which thunder was heard,[2739] or the direction it came from.[2740] It's worth noting that the three chapters of Bede’s translation of some work on thunder divination focused on these three methods: the direction of the thunder, the month, and the day of the week. Birth charts for infants are also created based on the day of the week they are born, taking into account whether they are born during the day or at night.[2741] It's also important to note on which day of the week the new moon occurs,[2742] and we are informed about the various hours during the week that are good for blood-letting.[2743] In a method of divination that considers the day of the week and the letters in a child's name, Sunday is assigned the number thirteen, Monday is assigned eighteen, and Tuesday is assigned fifteen.[2744] Since[Pg 680] the days of the week are named after planets, it makes sense that they would be associated with some of the stars' qualities.

Divination by the day of the moon.

A commoner method of divination and one more nearly approaching approved astrological doctrine was that by the day of the month or moon. Briefest of such moon-books is that which merely designates each of the thirty days as favorable or unfavorable.[2745] We also find a Lunarium for the sick, stating the patient’s prospects from the day of the moon on which he contracted his illness;[2746] a work ascribed to “Saint Daniel” on nativities by the day of the moon;[2747] and an equally brief interpretation of dreams upon the same basis.[2748] Or all these matters may be considered in the same treatise and each of them somewhat more fully, and we may be told whether the day is a good one on which to buy and sell, to board a ship, to enter a city, to operate upon a patient, to send children off to school, to breed animals, to build an aqueduct or mill, or whether it is best to[Pg 681] abstain on it from most business. Also such predictions as that the boy born on that day will be illustrious, astute, wise, and lettered; that he will encounter danger on the water, but will live to old age if he escapes; while the girl born on the same day will be “chaste, benign, good-looking, and pleasing to men.” That anyone who takes to his bed on that day will suffer a long sickness, but that it is a favorable day for blood-letting, and that one should not worry about dreams he has then, since they possess no significance either for good or evil. Also what chance there is of recovering articles stolen on that day.[2749] In later manuscripts at least it is further stated that certain Biblical characters were born on this day or that day of the moon: Adam on the first, Eve on the second, Cain on the third, Abel on the fourth, and so on.[2750]

A popular way of predicting the future, which is closer to accepted astrological practices, was based on the day of the month or moon. The simplest of these moon books only identifies each of the thirty days as either lucky or unlucky. We also find a Lunarium for the sick, detailing a patient’s chances based on the moon phase when they got sick; a work attributed to “Saint Daniel” about births based on the day of the moon; and a brief guide to interpreting dreams using the same method. All these topics can also be covered in one treatise, discussed in greater detail, and it can inform us whether it's a good day for buying and selling, boarding a ship, entering a city, performing surgery, sending children to school, breeding animals, or building infrastructure, or if it's better to refrain from most activities. There are also predictions like the boy born on this day will be remarkable, clever, wise, and educated; that he will face dangers at sea but will live long if he survives; while the girl born on the same day will be “pure, kind, attractive, and charming to men.” It is said that anyone who goes to bed on that day will endure a lengthy illness, but that it is an auspicious day for bloodletting, and there’s no need to worry about dreams on that day, as they do not hold any significance for good or bad. Additionally, it notes the likelihood of recovering items stolen that day. Later manuscripts even mention that certain Biblical figures were born on this day or that day of the moon: Adam on the first, Eve on the second, Cain on the third, Abel on the fourth, and so on.

[Pg 682]

[Pg 682]

Authorship of moon-books.

In the early manuscripts moon-books are anonymous or ascribed to Daniel, but in later medieval manuscripts other authors are named. The name of Adam is coupled with that of Daniel in both of two rather elaborate moon-books in a fourteenth century manuscript,[2751] where Adam is said to have worked out these “lunations” “by true experience.” A fifteenth century one is attributed to a philosopher, astrologer, and physician named Edris,[2752] perhaps the Esdras of the method of divination by the kalends of January rather than the Arab Edrisi. It briefly predicts from the relation of the moon to the twelve signs whether patients will recover and captives escape. In a sixteenth century manuscript at Paris are “Significations of the days of the moon which the most excellent astronomer Bezogar revealed to his disciples and transmitted to them as a very great secret and most precious gift.”[2753] But such an ascription is rather obviously a late fiction.

In the early manuscripts, moon books are either anonymous or attributed to Daniel, but in later medieval manuscripts, other authors are identified. The name Adam appears alongside Daniel in two fairly detailed moon books from a fourteenth-century manuscript, [2751], where it's stated that Adam figured out these "lunations" "through genuine experience." A fifteenth-century book is credited to a philosopher, astrologer, and physician named Edris, [2752], possibly the Esdras known for divination methods related to the kalends of January rather than the Arab Edrisi. It briefly predicts the likelihood of patients recovering and captives escaping based on the moon’s relationship to the twelve signs. In a sixteenth-century manuscript in Paris, there are "Significations of the days of the moon which the highly esteemed astronomer Bezogar revealed to his students and passed on to them as a very significant secret and most valuable gift." [2753] However, this attribution is clearly a later fabrication.

Spheres of life and death: in Greek.

Determining the fate of the patient from the day of the moon upon which his illness was incurred enters also into certain spheres of life and death which were much employed in the early middle ages. But in these the number of the day of the moon is combined with a second number obtained by a numerical evaluation of the letters forming the patient’s name. This method came down from the ancient Greek-speaking world, as in a “Sphere of Democritus, prognostic of life and death” found in a Leyden papyrus,[2754] while the very similar Sphere of Petosiris, the[Pg 683] mythical Egyptian astrologer, is variously dated by W. Kroll from the second century before Christ, by E. Riess from the first century before Christ, and by F. Boll in the first century of our era.[2755] The so-called “Sphere” is really only a wheel of fortune, circle, or other plane figure divided into compartments where different numbers are grouped under such headings as “Life” and “Death.” Having calculated the value of a person’s name by adding together the Greek numerals represented by its component letters, and having further added in the day of the moon, one divides the sum by some given divisor and looks for the quotient in the compartments. This method of divination was also employed in regard to fugitive slaves and the outcome of gladiatorial combats.[2756]

Determining the patient's fate based on the lunar day when their illness began also ties into certain aspects of life and death that were quite commonly used in the early Middle Ages. In these cases, the lunar day's number is combined with a second number derived from a numerical evaluation of the letters in the patient's name. This technique was inherited from the ancient Greek-speaking world, as seen in a “Sphere of Democritus, prognostic of life and death” found in a Leyden papyrus, while the very similar Sphere of Petosiris, the mythical Egyptian astrologer, has been dated by W. Kroll to the second century BC, by E. Riess to the first century BC, and by F. Boll to the first century AD. The so-called “Sphere” is really just a wheel of fortune, circle, or another flat figure divided into sections where various numbers are grouped under categories like “Life” and “Death.” After calculating the value of a person's name by adding the Greek numerals that correspond to its letters, and then adding the lunar day's number, one divides the total by a specific divisor and looks for the result in the sections. This method of divination was also used to assess runaway slaves and the outcomes of gladiatorial fights.

Medieval Latin versions.

In the medieval Latin versions of these Spheres of life and death the numerical value of the Greek letters was naturally usually lost and arbitrary numerical equivalents were assigned to the Roman letters or some other method of calculation was substituted. The Sphere of Petosiris was perpetuated in the form of a letter by him to Nechepso, king of Egypt.[2757] But more common than this in manuscripts of the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries was the Sphere of life and death of Apuleius or Pythagoras or both[2758] which replaced that of Democritus. Like it, it consisted of the numbers from one to thirty arranged in six compartments, three above a line each containing six numbers, and three below the line having four each. John of Salisbury, in the twelfth century, presumably refers to[Pg 684] it when he speaks of divination or lot-casting “by inspection of the so-called Pythagorean table”;[2759] and it continues to be found with great frequency in the manuscripts of subsequent centuries.[2760] It is not to be confused, however, with the Prenostica Pitagorice, a more elaborate, although somewhat similar, method of divination by means of geomantic tables, of which we shall treat later in the chapter on Bernard Silvester. A Sphere ascribed to St. Donatus in a twelfth century manuscript includes instructions how to determine the sign of the zodiac under which a person was born by computing the difference between his name and his mother’s name. If this amounts to four letters, he was born under the fourth sign, and so on.[2761]

In the medieval Latin versions of these Spheres of life and death, the numerical value of the Greek letters was typically lost, and arbitrary numerical equivalents were assigned to the Roman letters or some other method of calculation was used instead. The Sphere of Petosiris was preserved in the form of a letter from him to Nechepso, king of Egypt.[2757] However, more commonly found in manuscripts from the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries was the Sphere of life and death attributed to Apuleius or Pythagoras, or both[2758], which replaced that of Democritus. Like it, it consisted of numbers from one to thirty arranged in six sections, three above a line each containing six numbers, and three below the line with four each. John of Salisbury, in the twelfth century, presumably refers to [Pg 684] it when he discusses divination or lot-casting “by inspection of the so-called Pythagorean table”;[2759] and it continues to appear frequently in manuscripts of later centuries.[2760] However, it should not be confused with the Prenostica Pitagorice, a more complex, though somewhat similar, method of divination using geomantic tables, which we will cover later in the chapter on Bernard Silvester. A Sphere attributed to St. Donatus in a twelfth-century manuscript includes instructions on how to determine the zodiac sign under which a person was born by calculating the difference between their name and their mother’s name. If this amounts to four letters, they were born under the fourth sign, and so on.[2761]

Survival of such methods in medical practice of about 1400.

The survival of such superstitious methods of divination into the later middle ages is attested not only by the frequent recurrence of the Sphere of Apuleius and the divinations from the kalends of January in manuscripts of the later centuries, but by the medical notebook, written in middle English, of John Crophill, who practiced medicine in Suffolk under Henry IV.[2762] Besides a record of his patients and the sums of money due from them, rules of dieting and blood-letting for the twelve months of the year, and his “more regular and masterly observations upon Urin,” his notes include a treatise on astrological medicine which, in the sarcastic language of the old catalogue of the Harleian Manuscripts, concludes “with a masterpiece of art, namely, a tretys or chapter of ‘Calculation to know[Pg 685] what thou wilt,’ and this by observation of persons’ names.” The notebook also contains “Oracular Answers prepared beforehand by this great Doctor for those of both Sexes who shall come to consult him in the momentous affair of Matrimony; according to the several Months of the year wherein they should apply themselves.” Further contents are an incantation in Latin for women in child-birth, and “The names of the 12 signs with such marks as shew that this John Crophill was a dabbler in Geomancy.”

The survival of superstitious divination methods into the later Middle Ages is shown not only by the frequent appearance of the Sphere of Apuleius and the divinations from the kalends of January in manuscripts from later centuries, but also by the medical notebook, written in Middle English, of John Crophill, who practiced medicine in Suffolk under Henry IV. [2762] In addition to records of his patients and the amounts owed to him, rules for dieting and bloodletting for the twelve months of the year, and his “more regular and masterful observations on Urine,” his notes include a treatise on astrological medicine which, in the sarcastic tone of the old catalogue of the Harleian Manuscripts, ends “with a masterpiece of art, namely, a treatise or chapter of ‘Calculation to know[Pg 685] what thou wilt,’ and this by observation of people's names.” The notebook also contains “Oracular Answers prepared in advance by this great Doctor for those of both sexes who come to consult him on the serious matter of Matrimony; according to the various months of the year in which they should apply themselves.” Additional contents include an incantation in Latin for women in childbirth, and “The names of the 12 signs with marks indicating that this John Crophill was involved in Geomancy.”

Egyptian days.

Brief lists of “Egyptian Days” are of rather common occurrence in both Latin and Anglo-Saxon manuscripts of the ninth, tenth, and succeeding centuries.[2763] Often it is merely stated what days of the year they are; sometimes it is simply added that the doctor should not bleed the patient upon them. As early as a ninth century manuscript,[2764] however, we are further warned not to take a walk or plant or carry on a lawsuit or do any work upon these days. And under no circumstances, no matter what the seeming necessity, is it permitted to bleed man or beast on these days. Two Egyptian days are then listed for each month, one reckoned as so many days from the beginning and the other as so many days before the close of the month. Eleven days is the farthest removed that any Egyptian day is from the first of the month and twelve the most from the close, so that they never fall in the middle of a month nor on the very first or last day. Our ninth century manuscript then mentions three of these days in April, August, and December as especially dangerous. Whoever falls ill or receives a potion on them is sure to die soon. Whoever, male or female, is born on one of them will die an evil and painful death. “And if one drinks water on those three days, he will die within forty days.” The account then closes with the statement that on the Egyptian days the people of Egypt were cursed with Pharaoh. In another ninth century manuscript[Pg 686] a bare list of the Egyptian days is followed by a somewhat similar account of the three which must be observed with especial care.[2765] In a calendar of saints’ days in this same manuscript only the third of March and the third of July are marked dies egiptiagus.[2766] Egyptian days are also marked in the calendar of Marianus Scotus, the well-known chronicler and chronologist.[2767] A somewhat different account in a twelfth century manuscript states that “these are the days which God sent without mercy.” It also, however, lists two of them for each month and distinguishes the three in April, August, and December as especially dangerous.[2768]

Brief lists of “Egyptian Days” are quite common in both Latin and Anglo-Saxon manuscripts from the ninth, tenth, and later centuries.[2763] Often, they simply state which days of the year they are; sometimes it’s also noted that doctors shouldn’t bleed patients on these days. As early as a ninth-century manuscript,[2764] there’s a warning against taking walks, planting, engaging in lawsuits, or doing any work on these days. Under no circumstances, regardless of the necessity, is it allowed to bleed either humans or animals on these days. Each month has two Egyptian days listed, one counted from the beginning of the month and the other counted backward from the end. The farthest any Egyptian day gets from the start of the month is eleven days, and the most it gets from the end is twelve, meaning they never occur in the middle of a month or on the very first or last day. The ninth-century manuscript mentions three particularly dangerous days in April, August, and December. Anyone who falls ill or takes a potion on these days is sure to die soon. Anyone born on one of these days, regardless of gender, will face a painful and unfortunate death. “And if someone drinks water on those three days, they will die within forty days.” The account concludes by stating that on the Egyptian days, the people of Egypt were cursed with Pharaoh. In another ninth-century manuscript[Pg 686], a simple list of the Egyptian days is followed by a similar account of the three days that should be especially observed.[2765] In a calendar of saints’ days in this same manuscript, only the third of March and the third of July are marked dies egiptiagus.[2766] Egyptian days are also noted in the calendar of Marianus Scotus, the well-known chronicler and chronologist.[2767] A somewhat different account in a twelfth-century manuscript states that “these are the days which God sent without mercy.” It also lists two of these days for each month and highlights the three in April, August, and December as especially dangerous.[2768]

Their history.

There seems to be no doubt that these Egyptian days were a relic of the unlucky days in the ancient Egyptian calendar,[2769] of which we learn from several papyri, although of course the ancient Egyptians were also accustomed to distinguish further the three divisions of each day as lucky or unlucky. The Egyptian days are noted in official calendars of the Roman Empire about 354 A. D., and in the Fasti Philocaliani there are twenty-five in all, of which three fall in January. In the middle ages, as has already been illustrated, there were usually but twenty-four, two to each month.[2770] They were mentioned in the Life of Proclus by Marinus, and both Ambrose and Augustine testified that many Christians still had faith in them.[2771] Indeed, they passed into the ecclesiastical calendar, as the Franciscan, Bartholomew of England, states in the thirteenth century.[2772]

There’s no doubt that these Egyptian days were leftovers from the unfortunate days in the ancient Egyptian calendar, as we learn from several papyri. However, the ancient Egyptians also made finer distinctions within each day, labeling parts as lucky or unlucky. The Egyptian days are recorded in official calendars of the Roman Empire around 354 A.D., and in the Fasti Philocaliani, there are twenty-five in total, with three occurring in January. During the Middle Ages, as previously shown, there were usually only twenty-four, two for each month. They were mentioned in the Life of Proclus by Marinus, and both Ambrose and Augustine noted that many Christians still believed in them. In fact, they made their way into the ecclesiastical calendar, as stated by the Franciscan Bartholomew of England in the thirteenth century.

[Pg 687]

[Pg 687]

Medieval attempts to explain them.

By that time the notion had become prevalent that they were anniversaries of the days upon which God afflicted Egypt with plagues, as our citations from the manuscripts have shown. Bartholomew, indeed, is at pains to explain that the days are placed in the church calendar, “not because one should omit anything upon them more than upon other days, but in order that God’s miracles may be recalled to memory.” The circumstance that there are twenty-four days does not embarrass him; he simply explains that this proves that God sent more plagues upon Egypt than the ten which are especially famed. Our citations from earlier manuscripts have shown that most people would not agree with Bartholomew that nothing should be omitted on these days. Moreover, other explanations of their origin had been already given in the middle ages than that from the plagues of Egypt. Honorius of Autun stated in the twelfth century that they were called Egyptian days because they had been discovered by the Egyptians, and since Egypt means dark,[2773] they are called tenebrosi, because they are declared to bring the incautious to the shadows of death.[2774] The Dominican, Vincent of Beauvais,[2775] who probably wrote his encyclopedia soon after that of Bartholomew, did not find the discrepancy between ten plagues and twenty-four days so easy to explain away. He states that of the two Egyptian days in each month one comes near the beginning and the other near the close, as we have already learned. He adds that some call them lucky days, while others say that the astrologers of Egypt discovered that they were unlucky. Yet another explanation of their origin is that on these days the Egyptians were accustomed to sacrifice to demons with their own blood, a circumstance which would not seem to recommend them for inclusion in the ecclesiastical calendar. Bernard Gordon, a medical writer at the[Pg 688] end of the thirteenth century, reverts to the position that the Egyptian days were in memory of the plagues in Egypt. He declares that there is no sense in the prohibition of blood-letting upon these days, since they have no astrological significance, but are the anniversaries of miracles worked by special providence.[2776] Gilbert of England, earlier in the thirteenth century, had advised against bleeding on Egyptian days, if the moon was then influenced by any evil planet.[2777]

By that time, the idea had become widespread that these were anniversaries of the days when God sent plagues to Egypt, as our references from the manuscripts indicate. Bartholomew, in fact, goes out of his way to clarify that these days are included in the church calendar “not to suggest that anything should be avoided more than on other days, but so that God’s miracles can be remembered.” The fact that there are twenty-four days doesn't trouble him; he simply states that it shows that God inflicted more plagues on Egypt than just the ten that are particularly well-known. Our references from earlier manuscripts show that most people wouldn’t agree with Bartholomew that nothing should be avoided on these days. Furthermore, there were other explanations for their origin given in the Middle Ages besides the plagues of Egypt. Honorius of Autun mentioned in the twelfth century that they were called Egyptian days because they were discovered by the Egyptians, and since Egypt means dark, they are referred to as tenebrosi, because they are said to lead the unwary into the shadows of death. The Dominican, Vincent of Beauvais, who likely wrote his encyclopedia soon after Bartholomew, did not find it so easy to reconcile the difference between ten plagues and twenty-four days. He states that of the two Egyptian days in each month, one occurs near the beginning and the other near the end, as we have already noted. He adds that some refer to them as lucky days, while others claim that the astrologers of Egypt found them to be unlucky. Another explanation of their origin is that on these days, the Egyptians used to sacrifice their own blood to demons, which wouldn’t seem to merit their inclusion in the church calendar. Bernard Gordon, a medical writer at the end of the thirteenth century, returns to the view that the Egyptian days were a remembrance of the plagues in Egypt. He argues that it makes no sense to prohibit bloodletting on these days since they have no astrological significance but are the anniversaries of miracles performed by special providence. Gilbert of England, earlier in the thirteenth century, advised against bloodletting on Egyptian days if the moon was influenced by any malevolent planet.

Other perilous days.

On the other hand, not only did the twenty-four Egyptian days and the three in April, August, and December which were considered especially dangerous, continue to be listed in the fourteenth and fifteenth century manuscripts, but imitations of them appeared. Thus in a fourteenth century manuscript we read of forty perilous days which should be observed with the utmost care and which Greek masters have tested by experience;[2778] while in a second manuscript of the closing medieval period appear fifty-eight dangerous days “according to the Arabs.”[2779] Of the Greek days only twenty-nine are actually listed, seven in January, three in February, and so on, omitting the months of July and August entirely, which perhaps should contain the missing eleven days.[2780] The Arabic days vary in number per month from seven in March, which is the first month listed, to three in February. “And there are four other days and nights according to Bede on which no one is ever born or conceived,[Pg 689] and if by chance a male is conceived or born, its body will never be freed from putridity.”[2781]

On the other hand, the twenty-four dangerous days from Egypt and the three in April, August, and December that were considered particularly hazardous continued to be recorded in manuscripts from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and even imitations of them emerged. For example, in a fourteenth-century manuscript, there are mentions of forty perilous days that should be observed with great caution, which Greek scholars have confirmed through experience;[2778] while in another manuscript from the late medieval period, there are fifty-eight dangerous days “according to the Arabs.”[2779] Of the Greek days, only twenty-nine are actually listed: seven in January, three in February, and so on, excluding the months of July and August entirely, which might account for the missing eleven days.[2780] The number of Arabic days varies by month, starting with seven in March, the first month mentioned, down to three in February. “And there are four other days and nights according to Bede on which no one is ever born or conceived,[Pg 689] and if a male is conceived or born on those days, its body will never be free from decay.”[2781]

Firmicus read by an archbishop of York.

That astrological knowledge in England, at least soon after the Norman conquest, was not limited to such meager and simple treatises as the moon-books described above from Anglo-Saxon manuscripts, is seen from the closing incident in the career of Gerard, a learned and eloquent man, bishop of Hereford under William Rufus and archbishop of York under Henry I, whom he supported in the investiture struggle with Anselm and the pope. The story goes that Gerard, who had been feeling slightly indisposed, lay down to rest and enjoy the fresh air and fragrance of the flowers in a garden near his palace, asking his chaplains to leave him for a while. On their return after dinner they found him dead, and beneath the cushion upon which his head rested was a copy of the astrological work of Julius Firmicus Maternus. Gerard had not been popular with the inhabitants of York, and when his corpse was brought back to town, boys stoned the bier and the canons refused it burial within the cathedral, which, however, his successor granted. “His enemies,” we are told, “interpreted his death, without the rites of the church, as a divine judgment for his addiction to magical and forbidden arts.” At any rate the story shows that the work of Firmicus was well known by this time; it is from the eleventh century that the oldest manuscripts of it date; and we suspect that some of his enemies were rather hypocritical in the horror which they expressed at a bishop’s reading such a book. “Too independent a thinker for his contemporaries,” writes Miss Bateson, “his opponents held up their hands in horror that an astrological[Pg 690] work by Julius Firmicus Maternus should be found under his pillow when he died.”[2782] The style of Firmicus is much imitated by the anonymous author of The Laws of Henry I and another legal work entitled Quadripartitus written in 1114. F. Liebermann states that the author was in the service of archbishop Gerard aforesaid.[2783]

That astrological knowledge in England, at least soon after the Norman conquest, was not limited to the sparse and simple treatises like the moon-books described above from Anglo-Saxon manuscripts, as seen in the final events of Gerard's life. Gerard was a knowledgeable and articulate man, bishop of Hereford under William Rufus and archbishop of York under Henry I, whom he supported in the investiture conflict with Anselm and the pope. The story goes that Gerard, feeling a bit unwell, decided to lie down and enjoy the fresh air and fragrance of the flowers in a garden near his palace, asking his chaplains to leave him alone for a while. When they returned after dinner, they found him dead, and beneath the cushion where his head rested was a copy of the astrological work by Julius Firmicus Maternus. Gerard had not been popular with the people of York, and when his body was brought back to town, boys stoned the bier, and the canons refused to bury him in the cathedral, although his successor eventually allowed it. “His enemies,” it is said, “interpreted his death, without church rites, as a divine judgment for his involvement in magical and forbidden arts.” In any case, the story indicates that Firmicus's work was well-known by this time; the oldest manuscripts date back to the eleventh century; and it’s likely that some of his enemies were rather hypocritical in their outrage over a bishop reading such a book. “Too independent a thinker for his contemporaries,” writes Miss Bateson, “his opponents were horrified that an astrological [Pg 690] work by Julius Firmicus Maternus should be found under his pillow when he died.”[2782] The style of Firmicus is heavily imitated by the anonymous author of The Laws of Henry I and another legal work titled Quadripartitus written in 1114. F. Liebermann states that the author worked for the previously mentioned archbishop Gerard.[2783]

Relation of Latin astrology to Arabic.

Charles Jourdain once made the generalization that before the translation of the Quadripartite of Ptolemy and the works of the Arabian astrologers into Latin in the twelfth century, astrology had little hold among men of learning in western Europe.[2784] An even more erroneous assertion was that in Burckhardt’s Die Kultur der Renaissance in Italien that “at the beginning of the thirteenth century” the superstition of astrology “suddenly appeared in the foreground of Italian life.”[2785] Even Jourdain’s assertion the entire present chapter tends to disprove, but since it has been quoted with approval by a subsequent writer on the thirteenth century,[2786] we may deal with it a little farther. The reason which Jourdain added in support of his generalization was that before the translations from the Arabic “those who cultivated astrology had no other guides than Censorinus, Manilius, and Julius Firmicus, who might indeed seduce a few[Pg 691] isolated dreamers but did not have enough weight to convince philosophers. Ptolemy and the Arabs, on the contrary, appeared as masters of a regular science having its own principles and method.” This sounds as if Jourdain had not read Firmicus who gives a more elaborate presentation of the art of astrology than the elementary Quadripartite of Ptolemy. It is true that Ptolemy had a great scientific reputation from his other writings, but Manilius is a poet of no small merit, and there would be no reason why an age which accepted Ovid and Vergil as authorities concerning nature and regarded such works as De vetula and the Secret of Secrets as genuine works of Ovid and Aristotle, should draw delicate distinctions between Firmicus and Albumasar or Manilius and Alkindi. It was because reading Firmicus and even practicing the cruder modes of divination which we have described had already aroused an interest in astrology that other works in the field were sought out and translated. Moreover, there is an even more cogent objection to Jourdain’s generalization which will be developed in the following chapter, and it is that the taking over of Arabic astrology had already begun long before the twelfth century. We have, indeed, in the present chapter told only half the story of astrology in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and must now turn back to Gerbert and the introduction of Arabic astrology.

Charles Jourdain once claimed that before the translation of the Quadripartite by Ptolemy and the works of Arabian astrologers into Latin in the twelfth century, astrology had little influence among educated people in western Europe.[2784] An even more incorrect statement was made in Burckhardt’s Die Kultur der Renaissance in Italien, which suggested that “at the beginning of the thirteenth century” the superstition of astrology “suddenly came to the forefront of Italian life.”[2785] Even Jourdain’s claim is challenged by the entire present chapter, but since it has been endorsed by a later writer on the thirteenth century,[2786] we will address it further. The reason Jourdain provided to support his claim was that before the translations from Arabic, “those who practiced astrology had no other guides than Censorinus, Manilius, and Julius Firmicus, who might have enticed a few isolated dreamers but did not carry enough authority to convince philosophers. Ptolemy and the Arabs, on the other hand, were seen as masters of a well-structured science with its own principles and methods.” This suggests that Jourdain hadn’t read Firmicus, who offers a more comprehensive presentation of astrology than Ptolemy’s basic Quadripartite. It’s true that Ptolemy had a strong scientific reputation from his other works, but Manilius is a poet of considerable merit, and there would be no reason for an era that accepted Ovid and Vergil as authorities on nature and regarded works like De vetula and the Secret of Secrets as genuine writings of Ovid and Aristotle to make fine distinctions between Firmicus and Albumasar or Manilius and Alkindi. It was because reading Firmicus and even practicing the simpler forms of divination we’ve described had already sparked an interest in astrology that other texts in the field were sought out and translated. Furthermore, there’s an even stronger objection to Jourdain’s generalization that will be explored in the next chapter: the adoption of Arabic astrology had begun well before the twelfth century. Indeed, in this chapter, we have only covered part of the story of astrology in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and now we must return to Gerbert and the introduction of Arabic astrology.


[Pg 692]

[Pg 692]

APPENDIX I
SOME MANUSCRIPTS OF THE SPHERE OF PYTHAGORAS OR APULEIUS

Besides the copies noted by Wickersheimer (1913) in French manuscripts from the ninth to the eleventh centuries, such as Laon 407, Orléans 276, and BN nouv. acq. 1616, where in fact it occurs twice: at fol. 7v, “Ratio spere phytagor philosophi quem epulegus descripsit,” and at fol. 14r, “Ratio pitagere de infirmis,”—the following may be listed.

Besides the copies mentioned by Wickersheimer (1913) in French manuscripts from the ninth to the eleventh centuries, like Laon 407, Orléans 276, and BN nouv. acq. 1616, where it actually appears twice: at fol. 7v, “Ratio spere phytagor philosophorum quem epulegus descripsit,” and at fol. 14r, “Ratio pitagere de infirmis,”—the following can be listed.

BN 5239, 10th century, # 12.

BN 5239, 10th century, # 12.

Harleian 3017, 10th century, fol. 58r, “Ratio spherae Pythagorae philosophi quam Apuleius descripsit.”

Harleian 3017, 10th century, fol. 58r, “The Reason of the Sphere According to Pythagoras, the Philosopher, as Described by Apuleius.”

Cotton Tiberius C, VI, 11th century, fol. 6v, Imagines vitae et mortis quarum utraque rotulum tenet longum literis et numeris quae ad sphaeram Apuleii ad latera adscriptis, cum versibus pagina circumscriptis. The figures are of Vita with halo, robes, and angelic face, and of Mors, who wears only a pair of drawers, whose ribs show through his flesh, and who has wings like a demon. One has to turn the page upside down in order to read some of it.

Cotton Tiberius C, VI, 11th century, fol. 6v, Images of life and death, each holds a long scroll filled with letters and numbers that relate to Apuleius' sphere written along the sides, accompanied by verses encircling the page. The figures depict Life with a halo, wearing robes, and having an angelic face, and Death, who is dressed only in a pair of underpants, with his ribs visible through his skin, and wings like a demon. You have to turn the page upside down to read some of it.

CU Trinity 1369, 11th century, fol. 1r, just before the Calendar of Marianus Scotus, “Racio spere pytagorice quam apuleius descripsit.”

CU Trinity 1369, 11th century, fol. 1r, just before the Calendar of Marianus Scotus, “The reason of the pyramid like Apuleius described.”

Chartres 113, 9th century, fol. 99, following works by Alcuin, “Spera Apuleii Platonis.”

Chartres 113, 9th century, fol. 99, following works by Alcuin, “Spera Apuleii Platonis.”

Ivrea 19, 10th century, # 5, De spera Putagorae.

Ivrea 19, 10th century, # 5, About the Hope of Pythagoras.

CLM 22307, 10-11th century, fol. 194, Ratio sphaerae Phitagoreae philosophi quam Apulegius descripsit, “Petosiris philosophus Micipso regi salutem ...”, where it would seem to be confused with the letter of Petosiris to Nechepso.

CLM 22307, 10-11th century, fol. 194, Ratio sphaerae Phitagoreae philosophi quam Apulegius descripsit, “Petosiris philosophus Micipso regi salutem ...”, where it seems to be mixed up with the letter of Petosiris to Nechepso.

Vatican Palat. Lat. 176, 10th century, fol. 162v, “Eulogii ratio sperae Pitagorae philosophi,” in a MS containing works of Jerome, Augustine, and Ambrose.

Vatican Palat. Lat. 176, 10th century, fol. 162v, “Eulogii ratio sperae Pitagorae philosophi,” in a manuscript that includes works by Jerome, Augustine, and Ambrose.

[Pg 693]

[Pg 693]

Vatican Urb. Lat. 290, 11-13th century, fol. 2v, Ratio spere Pitagoras quam Apuleius descripsit; fol. 3, Petosiris Micipso regi salutem.

Vatican Urb. Lat. 290, 11-13th century, fol. 2v, Ratio spere Pitagoras quam Apuleius descripsit; fol. 3, Petosiris Micipso regi salutem.

I suspect that the following would also prove upon examination to be one of these Spheres of life and death.

I think that the following would also turn out, upon closer look, to be one of these Spheres of life and death.

CLM 18629, 10th century, fol. 95, Characteres literarum secretarum, item incantationes. Alphabetum Graecorum et numeri per tabulam dispositi; fol. 106, Tractatus de literis alphabeti (mysticus).

CLM 18629, 10th century, fol. 95, Characters of secret letters, also spells. Greek alphabet and numbers arranged in a table; fol. 106, Treatise on the letters of the alphabet (mystical).

Vatican Palat. Lat. 485, 9th century, fol. 14, Litterae graecae cum interpretatione alphabetica et numerica.

Vatican Palat. Lat. 485, 9th century, fol. 14, Greek letters with alphabetical and numerical interpretation.

Vatican 644, 10-11th century, fol. 16v.

Vatican 644, 10th-11th century, fol. 16v.

Of the numerous occurrences of the Sphere of Pythagoras or of Apuleius in MSS later than the eleventh century I have noted only a few examples.

Of the many instances of the Sphere of Pythagoras or of Apuleius in manuscripts from after the eleventh century, I've only highlighted a few examples.

Vienna 2532, 12th century, fols. 1-2, Tractatus astrologicus de divinando exitu morborum e positionibus lune et de sphere Pythagore.

Vienna 2532, 12th century, fols. 1-2, Astrological Treatise on Predicting the Outcome of Illnesses from the Positions of the Moon and the Pythagorean Sphere.

Vatican 642, 12th century, fol. 82, a somewhat different mode of divination, by which one tells what another is thinking or is holding in his hand, is attributed to Bede.

Vatican 642, 12th century, fol. 82, a somewhat different method of divination, by which one reveals what another is thinking or holding in their hand, is attributed to Bede.

Madrid 10016, early 13th century, fol. 3, “spera de morte vel vita”; fol. 85v, the letter of Petosiris to Nechepso. It is interesting to note that this MS originally belonged to an English Cluniac monastery: Haskins, EHR (1915), p. 65.

Madrid 10016, early 13th century, fol. 3, “spera de morte vel vita”; fol. 85v, the letter of Petosiris to Nechepso. It’s worth mentioning that this manuscript originally belonged to an English Cluniac monastery: Haskins, EHR (1915), p. 65.

BN 7486, 14th century, fol. 66v, “Canon supra rotam Pictagore,” opens, “Pictagoras is said to have written thus to Nasurius, king of the Chaldees;” then at fol. 67r comes “The Sphere of Pictagoras the philosopher which Epuleus Platonicus briefly described;” which is followed at fol. 68r by a long treatise ascribed to Ptolemy, Exortatio ad artem prescientie ptholomei regis egypti, in which various questions are answered by numerical and alphabetical calculations and one is also by the same method referred to nativities arranged under the 28 mansions of the moon.

BN 7486, 14th century, fol. 66v, “Canon on the Wheel of Pythagoras,” opens with, “Pythagoras is said to have written this to Nasurius, king of the Chaldeans;” then on fol. 67r comes “The Sphere of Pythagoras the philosopher which Epuleus Platonicus summarized;” which is followed on fol. 68r by a lengthy treatise attributed to Ptolemy, Exhortation to the Art of Knowledge by Ptolemy, King of Egypt, in which various questions are addressed using numerical and alphabetical calculations, and one is also referenced through the same method considering nativities organized under the 28 lunar mansions.

CU Trinity 1109, 14th century, fol. 15, Spera apulei et platonici; fol. 20, “Ratio spere pictagis philosophe quod apollonius scripsit;” fol. 392, S(p)era Fortune.

CU Trinity 1109, 14th century, fol. 15, Spera apulei et platonici; fol. 20, “Reason of the Sphere by the Philosopher that Apollonius wrote;” fol. 392, S(p)era Fortune.

Digby, 58, 14th century, fol. 1v, “Spera philosophorum.”

Digby, 58, 14th century, fol. 1v, “Hope of the philosophers.”

[Pg 694]

[Pg 694]

Bodleian 26 (Bernard 1871), 13-14th century, fols. 207 and 216v.

Bodleian 26 (Bernard 1871), 13th-14th century, fols. 207 and 216v.

Bodleian 177 (Bernard 2072), late 14th century, # 1, Pythagorae sphaera quam Apuleius exaravit ut scias an aeger convalescat; # 14, fol. 22r, Apuleii Platonici Sphaera de vita et morte et de omnibus negotiis quae inquirere volueris.

Bodleian 177 (Bernard 2072), late 14th century, # 1, Pythagorean sphere that Apuleius described to determine if someone is recovering from illness; # 14, fol. 22r, Apuleius the Platonist's Sphere about life and death and about all the matters you might want to investigate.

Amplon. Quarto 380, 14th century, at the close of a Geomancy by Abdallah, “Spera Apuley de vita et morte vel de omnibus negociis de quibus scire volueris; sic facias....”

Amplon. Quarto 380, 14th century, at the end of a Geomancy by Abdallah, “Hope for Apuley about life and death or about all the matters you wish to know; do it like this...”

Additional 15236, 13-14th century, fol. 108, “Spera (Pictagore) de vita et morte sive de re alia quacunque secundum Apuleium.”

Additional 15236, 13-14th century, fol. 108, “Spera (Pictagore) on life and death or on any other matter according to Apuleius.”

Harleian 5311, 15th century, folder i, “Spera Apullei.”

Harleian 5311, 15th century, folder i, “Spera Apullei.”

S. Marco XI, 111, 16th century, ascribes a wheel of life and death to “Bede the presbyter,” and another to Apollonius and Pythagoras.

S. Marco XI, 111, 16th century, attributes a wheel of life and death to “Bede the presbyter,” and another one to Apollonius and Pythagoras.


[Pg 695]

[Pg 695]

APPENDIX II
EGYPTIAN DAYS IN EARLY MEDIEVAL MANUSCRIPTS

The following citations could probably be greatly multiplied.

The following citations could likely be expanded significantly.

BN nouv. acq. 1616, 9th century, fol. 12r.

BN nouv. acq. 1616, 9th century, fol. 12r.

Digby 63, end of 9th century, Anglo-Saxon minuscule, fol. 36, “Dies Egiptiachi.”

Digby 63, end of the 9th century, Anglo-Saxon lowercase, fol. 36, “Egyptian Day.”

Berlin 131 (Phillips 1869, Trier), 9th century, fol. 12r.

Berlin 131 (Phillips 1869, Trier), 9th century, fol. 12r.

Lucca 236, about 900 A. D., on its last 3 leaves are Egyptian days and a dream-book; described by Giacosa (1901), p. 349.

Lucca 236, around 900 A.D., has Egyptian days and a dream book on its last 3 pages; described by Giacosa (1901), p. 349.

Harleian 3017, 10th century, fol. 59r, De diebus Egiptiacis qui mali sunt in anno circulo. The catalogue dates this MS as 920 A. D. but at fol. 66r the date is given as DCCClxii or DCCCClxii (962 A. D.)—a letter seems to have been erased which probably was the fourth C.

Harleian 3017, 10th century, fol. 59r, On the Egyptian Days that Are Bad in the Year Cycle. The catalog lists this manuscript as dating to 920 A.D., but on fol. 66r, the date is noted as DCCClxii or DCCCClxii (962 A.D.)—a letter seems to have been erased that was probably the fourth C.

Harleian 3271, 10th century (?), fol. 121, Versus ad dies Egyptiacas inveniendas. See also Baehrens, Poet. lat. min. V, 354-6; Mommsen CIL I, 411.

Harleian 3271, 10th century (?), fol. 121, Verses for finding the Egyptian days. See also Baehrens, Poet. lat. min. V, 354-6; Mommsen CIL I, 411.

Sloane 475, this portion of the MS 10-11th century, fol. 216v, Versus de significatione dierum mensis, opening, “Tenebrae Aegyptus Grecos sermone vocantur....”

Sloane 475, this part of the MS from the 10th-11th century, fol. 216v, Versus de significatione dierum mensis, opening, “Tenebrae Aegyptus Grecos sermone vocantur....”

Additional 22398, 10th century, fol. 104.

Additional 22398, 10th century, fol. 104.

Cotton Caligula A, XV, written mostly in Gaul before 1000 A. D., fol. 126, a list of lucky and unlucky days for medical purposes, in Anglo-Saxon.

Cotton Caligula A, XV, written mostly in Gaul before 1000 A.D., fol. 126, a list of lucky and unlucky days for medical purposes, in Anglo-Saxon.

Cotton Titus D, XXVI, 10th century, fol. 3v.

Cotton Titus D, XXVI, 10th century, fol. 3v.

Cotton Vitellius A, XII, fol. 39v.

Cotton Vitellius A, XII, fol. 39v.

Cotton Vitellius C, VIII, in Anglo-Saxon, fol. 23, de tribus anni diebus Aegyptiacis.

Cotton Vitellius C, VIII, in Old English, fol. 23, about the three days of the Egyptian year.

CU Trinity 945, early 11th century, fol. 37.

CU Trinity 945, early 11th century, fol. 37.

CU Trinity 1369, 11th century (perhaps 1086 A. D.), fol. 1v.

CU Trinity 1369, 11th century (possibly 1086 A.D.), fol. 1v.

Vatican 644, 10-11th century, fol. 77r, versus duodecim de diebus aegyptiis, and a fragment “de tribus diebus aegyptiis.”

Vatican 644, 10th-11th century, fol. 77r, verses about the twelve days of the Egyptians, and a fragment “about the three days of the Egyptians.”

Dijon 448, 10-12th century, fol. 88, Calendrier, avec jours égyptiaques ajoutés; fol. 191, “De Egyptiacis diebus.” Bede’s De[Pg 696] temporibus and De natura rerum occur twice in this MS and at fol. 181 is an incantation for use in fevers.

Dijon 448, 10-12th century, fol. 88, Calendar, with added Egyptian days; fol. 191, “On Egyptian Days.” Bede’s On Times and On the Nature of Things appear twice in this manuscript, and on fol. 181 is a spell for use in fevers.

Harleian 1585 and Sloane 1975, where the Egyptian days are found with the Herbarium of Apuleius, are both 12th century but probably copied from earlier MSS.

Harleian 1585 and Sloane 1975, which contain the Egyptian days along with the Herbarium of Apuleius, are both from the 12th century but were likely copied from earlier manuscripts.

So in Chalons-sur-Marne 7, 13th century, fol. 41, verses on the Egyptian days occur with the Ars calculatoria of Helpericus of Auxerre who wrote in the ninth century.

So in Chalons-sur-Marne 7, 13th century, fol. 41, verses about the Egyptian days are found with the Ars calculatoria by Helpericus of Auxerre, who wrote in the ninth century.

I have usually not noted the occurrence of the Egyptian days in later manuscripts. A few exceptions are:

I typically haven't recorded the occurrence of the Egyptian days in later manuscripts. A few exceptions are:

BN 7299A, 12th century, fol. 37r.

BN 7299A, 12th century, fol. 37r.

CLM 23390, 12-13th century, the last item is, “Verses concerning the twelve signs and the Egyptian days.” The previous contents were mainly religious.

CLM 23390, 12-13th century, the last item is, “Verses about the twelve signs and the Egyptian days.” The earlier contents were mostly religious.

Cambrai 195, fol. 208; 229, fol. 56; 829, fol. 54; all three MSS of the 12th century.

Cambrai 195, fol. 208; 229, fol. 56; 829, fol. 54; all three manuscripts from the 12th century.

Cambrai 861, early 13th century, fol. 56.

Cambrai 861, early 13th century, fol. 56.

Sloane 2461, end of 13th century, fols. 62r-64v.

Sloane 2461, end of the 13th century, pages 62 to 64.

The verses concerning the ten plagues of Egypt contained in CLM 18629, 10th century, fol. 93, and ascribed by the catalogue to Eugenius Toletanus have, I presume, no connection with the Egyptian days. Such proved to be the case with BN 16216, 13th century, fol. 251v, de decem plagis Egyptiorum et de vii diebus, although from the fact that it follows “Precepta Pithagore” I suspected before examining it that it might have something to do with divination. But not even the Pythagorean precepts have in this case.

The verses about the ten plagues of Egypt found in CLM 18629, from the 10th century, fol. 93, and attributed by the catalog to Eugenius Toletanus, seem to have no connection to the Egyptian days. This was also true for BN 16216, from the 13th century, fol. 251v, which discusses the ten plagues of the Egyptians and the seven days. I suspected it might relate to divination because it follows the "Precepta Pithagore," but even the Pythagorean precepts don't connect in this case.


[Pg 697]

[Pg 697]

CHAPTER XXX
GERBERT AND THE INTRODUCTION OF ARABIC ASTROLOGY

Arabic influence in early manuscripts—A preface and twenty-one chapters on the astrolabe—Are they parts of one work?—Their relation to Gerbert and the Arabic—Hermann’s De mensura astrolabii—Attitude towards astrology in the preface—Question of Gerbert’s attitude towards astrology—His posthumous reputation as a magician—An anonymous astronomical treatise; its possible relation to Gerbert—Contents of its first two books—Attitude towards astrology—The fourth book—Citations: Arabic names—Mathematica of Alchandrus or Alhandreus—An account of its contents—Astrological doctrine—Nativities and name-calculations—Interrogations and more name-calculations—Alchandrus or Alhandreus not the same as Alexander—Alkandrinus or Alchandrinus on nativities according to the mansions of the moon—Albandinus—Geomancy of Alkardianus or Alchandianus—An anonymous treatise or fragment of the tenth century.

Arabic influence in early manuscripts—A preface and twenty-one chapters on the astrolabe—Are they parts of one work?—Their connection to Gerbert and the Arabic—Hermann’s De mensura astrolabii—Perspective on astrology in the preface—Question of Gerbert’s view on astrology—His posthumous reputation as a magician—An anonymous astronomical treatise; its potential link to Gerbert—Contents of its first two books—Perspective on astrology—The fourth book—Citations: Arabic names—Mathematica of Alchandrus or Alhandreus—A summary of its contents—Astrological teachings—Nativities and name calculations—Interrogations and additional name calculations—Alchandrus or Alhandreus is not the same as Alexander—Alkandrinus or Alchandrinus on nativities according to the moon’s mansions—Albandinus—Geomancy of Alkardianus or Alchandianus—An anonymous treatise or fragment from the tenth century.

Arabic influence in early manuscripts.

The usual view has been that western Latin learning was not affected by Arabic science until the twelfth or even the thirteenth century. We shall see in other chapters that the translations of the Aristotelian books of natural philosophy were current rather earlier than has been recognized, that in medicine a period of Neo-Latin Salernitan tradition can scarcely be distinguished from one of Arabic influence, and that in chemistry owing to the misinterpretation of the date of Robert of Chester’s translation of the book of Morienus Romanus—in which Robert says that the Latin world does not yet know what alchemy is—Berthelot in his history of medieval alchemy placed the introduction of Arabic influence half a century too late. In the present chapter we shall see that the voluminous work of translation of Arabic astrologers which went on in the twelfth century—and to which another chapter will later be devoted—was preceded in the eleventh and even tenth centuries by numerous signs of Arabic influence in works of[Pg 698] astronomy and astrology and also by translations of Arabic authors. I was somewhat startled when I first found works by Arabic authors and use of astronomical terminology drawn from the Arabic in a manuscript of the eleventh century in the British Museum[2787] and Wickersheimer was similarly surprised at the traces of Arabic influence in a similar but still earlier manuscript of the tenth century at Paris.[2788] Bubnov, however, had already noted this Paris manuscript as a proof that Arabic books were being translated into Latin in Gerbert’s time,[2789] and one of Gerbert’s letters, written in 984 to a Lupitus of Barcelona (Lupito Barchinonensi), asking him to send Gerbert a book on “astrology” which he had translated, points in the same direction. In the present chapter we shall discuss the contents of the early manuscripts just mentioned and of some others which seem to have some connection either with Gerbert or the introduction of Arabic astrology into Latin learning.

The common belief has been that Western Latin education didn't really engage with Arabic science until the twelfth or even thirteenth century. However, we will see in other chapters that translations of Aristotelian works on natural philosophy were actually in circulation earlier than generally recognized. In medicine, the Neo-Latin Salernitan tradition can hardly be separated from Arabic influence, and in chemistry, due to the misinterpretation of when Robert of Chester translated the book by Morienus Romanus—where Robert states that the Latin world still doesn't know what alchemy is—Berthelot mistakenly dated the introduction of Arabic influence by about fifty years. In this chapter, we will explore the extensive translation work done by Arabic astrologers in the twelfth century—another chapter will focus on this—but this was preceded in the eleventh and even the tenth centuries by numerous indications of Arabic influence in astronomy and astrology, along with translations of Arabic authors. I was quite surprised when I first discovered works by Arabic authors and the use of Arabic astronomical terminology in an eleventh-century manuscript at the British Museum—and Wickersheimer was equally taken aback by the signs of Arabic influence in a similar but even earlier manuscript from the tenth century in Paris. Bubnov had already pointed out this Paris manuscript as evidence that Arabic texts were being translated into Latin during Gerbert's time, and one of Gerbert's letters from 984 to a Lupitus of Barcelona (Lupito Barchinonensi) asking him to send a translated book on “astrology” supports this idea. In this chapter, we will discuss the contents of the early manuscripts just mentioned and some others that appear to have connections to either Gerbert or the introduction of Arabic astrology into Latin studies.

A preface and twenty-one chapters on the astrolabe.

In an eleventh century manuscript at Munich[2790] the astrological work of Firmicus is preceded by writings in a different hand upon the astrolabe. One of these, in its present state an anonymous fragment, is a stilted and florid introduction to a translation from the Arabic of a work on the astrolabe.[2791] Another is a treatise on the astrolabe in twenty-one chapters and containing many Arabic names.[2792][Pg 699] Bubnov lists three other copies of the introductory fragment, and they are all in manuscripts where the second treatise is also included;[2793] it, however, is often found in other manuscripts where the anonymous fragment does not appear, and it must be admitted that its omission is no great loss.

In an 11th-century manuscript in Munich[2790], the astrological work of Firmicus is preceded by writings in a different hand about the astrolabe. One of these, currently an anonymous fragment, is a flowery and awkward introduction to a translation from Arabic of a work on the astrolabe.[2791] Another is a treatise on the astrolabe divided into twenty-one chapters and includes many Arabic names.[2792][Pg 699] Bubnov lists three other copies of the introductory fragment, and they are all in manuscripts where the second treatise is also included;[2793] however, it is often found in other manuscripts where the anonymous fragment does not appear, and it must be acknowledged that its absence is not a significant loss.

Are they parts of one work?

Although the fragment precedes the other treatise in only one manuscript mentioned by Bubnov, there is reason to think that they belong together, since both are concerned with the Wazzalcora or planisphere or astrolapsus of Ptolemy, and since the plan outlined by the writer of the introduction is followed in the treatise of twenty-one chapters except that it ends incompletely. Bubnov recognized this, yet did not unite them as a single work.[2794] In 984 Gerbert wrote to a Lupito Barchinonensi asking Lupitus to send him a work on “astrology” which Lupitus had translated.[2795] If Lupitus was of Barcelona, his translation was probably from the Arabic, and as such translations were presumably not common in the tenth century, it is natural to wonder if he may not be the above-mentioned anonymous translator. This Bubnov suggested in the case of the introductory fragment,[2796] but the treatise in twenty-one chapters he placed among the doubtful works of Gerbert,[2797] because a monastic catalogue composed before 1084 speaks of a work of Gerbert on the astrolabe, while six manuscripts of the[Pg 700] twelfth and thirteenth centuries, although none earlier to his knowledge, ascribe this very treatise of twenty-one chapters to Gerbert. Bubnov believed that whoever the author of the treatise in twenty-one chapters was, he had utilized the full work of the anonymous translator. But this seems a rather unnecessary refinement. For what has become of that translation? Why is only its wordy and rhetorical preface extant? If the writer of the twenty-one chapters destroyed its text after plagiarizing it, why did he not also make away with the preface? It seems more plausible that the twenty-one chapters are the original translation from the Arabic, and that many makers of manuscripts have copied it alone and omitted the wordy and rather worthless preface of the translator. If, as Bubnov suggested, the treatise in twenty-one chapters is Gerbert’s revision and polishing up of Lupitus’ translation,[2798] why did he not prefix a new introduction of his own? And why should anyone try to polish up the style of so rhetorical a writer as he who penned the extant anonymous introduction?

Although the fragment appears before the other treatise in only one manuscript noted by Bubnov, there’s good reason to believe they go together, as both deal with the Wazzalcora or planisphere or astrolapsus of Ptolemy. The plan outlined by the author of the introduction is followed in the treatise of twenty-one chapters, except it ends incomplete. Bubnov acknowledged this but didn’t combine them into a single work. [2794] In 984, Gerbert wrote to a Lupito Barchinonensi, asking Lupitus to send him a work on “astrology” that Lupitus had translated.[2795] If Lupitus was from Barcelona, his translation was likely from Arabic, and given that such translations were probably rare in the tenth century, it’s reasonable to wonder if he might be the previously mentioned anonymous translator. Bubnov suggested this in relation to the introductory fragment, [2796] but he categorized the treatise in twenty-one chapters among Gerbert’s questionable works, [2797] as a monastic catalogue written before 1084 refers to a work of Gerbert on the astrolabe. Meanwhile, six manuscripts from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, though none earlier than he knew of, attribute this same treatise of twenty-one chapters to Gerbert. Bubnov thought that whoever authored the treatise in twenty-one chapters had made use of the full work by the anonymous translator. However, this seems a bit overly complicated. What happened to that translation? Why is only its lengthy and rhetorical preface still around? If the writer of the twenty-one chapters destroyed the text after copying it, why didn’t he also get rid of the preface? It seems more likely that the twenty-one chapters are the original translation from Arabic, and that many manuscript makers copied it alone, omitting the lengthy and rather useless preface of the translator. If, as Bubnov suggested, the treatise in twenty-one chapters is Gerbert’s revised and polished version of Lupitus’ translation, [2798] why didn’t he add a new introduction? And why would anyone want to refine the style of such a rhetorical writer as the one who wrote the existing anonymous introduction?

Their relation to Gerbert and the Arabic.

If we accept this anonymous introduction as the preface to the twenty-one chapters, Gerbert would be the most likely person to ascribe both to, unless we argue that he could not make a translation from the Arabic and that his letter asking to see a translation from the Arabic by Lupitus is a proof of this. If Gerbert is not the author, Lupitus would perhaps be the next most likely person, but the hint contained in Gerbert’s letter is all that points to Lupitus, and indeed the only mention that we have of him. If the translator is some third unknown person, at least he is not later than the eleventh century. If, on the other hand, we regard the introduction of the translator and the twenty-one chapters as by different persons, who perhaps had no connection with each other, and Gerbert’s letter of 984 as having nothing to do with either, we have the more evidence of an early and widespread interest in astronomy and[Pg 701] knowledge of Arabic in the western Latin learned world.

If we take this anonymous introduction as the preface to the twenty-one chapters, Gerbert would be the most likely person to assign both to, unless we argue that he couldn't translate from Arabic and that his letter requesting to see a translation from Arabic by Lupitus proves this point. If Gerbert isn't the author, Lupitus might be the next probable candidate, but the only hint we have linking to Lupitus comes from Gerbert’s letter, which is also the only mention we have of him. If the translator is some unknown third person, they at least date back no later than the eleventh century. Alternatively, if we consider the introduction from the translator and the twenty-one chapters to have been written by different people who might not be connected, and we view Gerbert’s letter from 984 as unrelated to either, we then have more evidence of an early and widespread interest in astronomy and knowledge of Arabic in the educated Latin world of the West.[Pg 701]

Hermann’s De mensura astrolabii.

One reason why the treatise on the astrolabe in twenty-one chapters is so seldom found in the manuscripts preceded by the introduction of the translator may be that it is more often found with and preceded by another treatise on the astrolabe, sometimes entitled De mensura astrolabii, and attributed to a Hermann who modestly calls himself “the offscouring of Christ’s poor and the butt of mere tyros in philosophy.”[2799] This treatise tells how to construct an astrolabe, thus filling in the deficiency left by the incomplete ending of the treatise in twenty-one chapters, which fails to carry out fully this last item in the plan of the introductory fragment. A note in one manuscript, reproduced in part by Macray in his catalogue of the Digby Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library, states that the treatise in twenty-one chapters is by Gerbert and that when a certain Berengarius read it, he found it told how to exercise the art but not to make the instrument and asked Hermann to tell him how to make one. Hermann therefore composed the work in question, dedicated it to Berengarius, and prefixed it to Gerbert’s treatise.[2800] Of late there has been a tendency to identify this Hermann with Hermann of Dalmatia, the twelfth century translator from the Arabic,[2801] rather than with Hermann the Lame, the chronicler, who died in 1054, but if Bubnov is correct in dating two manuscripts[2802] containing[Pg 702] Hermann’s treatise on the astrolabe in the eleventh century, they could not be the work of Hermann the translator of the next century.[2803] Moreover, in the thirteenth century the treatise seems to have been regarded as the work of Hermann the Lame.[2804] The author’s self-depreciatory description of himself is also a mark of Hermann the Lame, who in another treatise addressed to his friend Herrandus and discussing the length of a moon calls himself “of Christ’s poor a vile abortion.”[2805]

One reason why the treatise on the astrolabe in twenty-one chapters is rarely found in manuscripts introduced by the translator is that it's more often found paired with another treatise on the astrolabe, sometimes called De mensura astrolabii, attributed to Hermann, who humbly refers to himself as “the offscouring of Christ’s poor and the target of mere beginners in philosophy.”[2799] This treatise explains how to construct an astrolabe, covering the gap left by the unfinished ending of the twenty-one chapter treatise, which doesn’t fully address this last item in the introduction’s outline. A note in one manuscript, partially reproduced by Macray in his catalogue of the Digby Manuscripts at the Bodleian Library, claims that the treatise in twenty-one chapters is by Gerbert and mentions that when a certain Berengarius read it, he realized it explained how to use the art but not how to actually make the instrument, prompting him to ask Hermann for guidance on constructing one. Hermann then wrote the work in question, dedicated it to Berengarius, and placed it before Gerbert’s treatise.[2800] Recently, there has been a trend to identify this Hermann with Hermann of Dalmatia, the twelfth-century translator from Arabic,[2801] rather than with Hermann the Lame, the chronicler who died in 1054, but if Bubnov is accurate in dating two manuscripts[2802] containing Hermann’s treatise on the astrolabe to the eleventh century, they couldn’t have been written by Hermann the translator from the next century.[2803] Furthermore, in the thirteenth century, the treatise appears to have been considered the work of Hermann the Lame.[2804] The author’s self-deprecating description is also characteristic of Hermann the Lame, who in another treatise written to his friend Herrandus while discussing the length of a moon refers to himself as “of Christ’s poor a vile abortion.”[2805]

Attitude towards astrology in the preface.

In the treatise of twenty-one chapters, which simply tells how to use the astrolabe, there is naturally no reference to judicial astrology. But in the introduction of the anonymous writer to his translation from the Arabic of a work on the astrolabe there is mention of the influence of the stars. Their “concord with all mundane creatures in all things” is regarded as established by “secret institution[Pg 703] of divinity and by natural law” and testified to by scientists.[2806] Not only is the effect of the moon on tides adduced as usual as an example, but God is believed to have set the seal of His approval upon “this discipline,” when He made miraculous use of the stars and heavens to mark the birth and passion of His Son. The writer, however, stigmatizes as a “frivolous superstition” the doctrine of the Chaldean genethlialogi, “who account for the entire life of man by astrological reasons” and “try to explain conceptions and nativities, character, prosperity and adversity from the courses of the stars.” Something nevertheless is to be conceded to them, provided all things are recognized as under divine disposition. But their doctrine is an egg which is not to be sucked unless rid of the bad odors of error.[2807] The translator urges the importance of a knowledge of astronomy in determining the date of church festivals and canonical hours. He cites Josephus concerning Abraham’s instruction of the Egyptians in arithmetic and astronomy, but regards Ptolemy as the most illustrious of all astronomers and the astrolabe as the invention of his “divine mind.” The translator wishes his readers to understand that he is offering them nothing new but only reviving the discoveries of the past, and that he is simply presenting what he finds in the Arabic.

In the treatise of twenty-one chapters, which clearly explains how to use the astrolabe, there’s no mention of judicial astrology. However, in the introduction by the anonymous author of his Arabic translation of a work on the astrolabe, there's a reference to the influence of the stars. Their “harmony with all earthly beings in everything” is seen as established by the “hidden ordinance of divinity and by natural law,” and it is supported by scientists. Not only is the moon's effect on tides commonly cited as an example, but it is believed that God endorsed “this discipline” when He used the stars and heavens in miraculous ways to signify the birth and passion of His Son. The writer does label the teaching of the Chaldean genethlialogi as a “frivolous superstition,” who claim to explain everything in a person's life through astrological reasons and “try to interpret conceptions and nativities, character, prosperity, and adversity based on the movements of the stars.” However, some credit must be given to them, as long as all things are seen as under divine control. But their doctrine is like an egg that should not be consumed unless it is rid of the unpleasant stench of error. The translator emphasizes the importance of understanding astronomy for determining the dates of church festivals and canonical hours. He mentions Josephus regarding Abraham teaching the Egyptians arithmetic and astronomy but considers Ptolemy as the most prominent of all astronomers and the astrolabe as the creation of his “divine mind.” The translator wants his readers to know that he is not presenting anything new but simply reviving past discoveries, and that he is merely sharing what he finds in the Arabic.

[Pg 704]

[Pg 704]

Question of Gerbert’s attitude toward astrology.

If Gerbert could be shown to be the translator who wrote this introduction, it would be a more valuable bit of evidence as to his attitude toward astrology than anything that we have at present. His surely genuine mathematical works, as edited by Bubnov, consist solely of a short geometry and a few of his letters in which mathematical topics, mainly the abacus, are touched upon. His contemporary and disciple, the historian Richer, tells in the well-known passage[2808] how Borellus, “the duke of Hither Spain,” took Gerbert as a youth from the monastery at Aurillac in Auvergne back with him across the Pyrenees and entrusted his education to Hatto, bishop of Vich, in the north-eastern part of the peninsula. Whether Gerbert studied Arabic or not Richer does not state. Since he is still described as adolescens when the duke and bishop take him with them to Italy and leave him there with the pope, one would infer that he probably had not engaged in the work of translation from the Arabic. Another almost contemporary writer, alluding very briefly to Gerbert, makes him visit Cordova, but is perhaps mistaken.[2809] Richer does, however, state that Berbert especially studied mathesis, a word which, as various medieval writers inform us, may mean either mathematics or divination. Apparently Richer uses it in the former sense, for later he mentions only Gerbert’s achievements in arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy.[2810] But Robert, king of France, 987-1031, whose teacher Gerbert had been, seems to refer to him as “that master Neptanebus” in some verses,[2811] a name which certainly suggests an astrologer, as well as an instructor of royalty, if not also a magician.

If Gerbert could be identified as the translator who wrote this introduction, it would be a more significant piece of evidence regarding his attitude toward astrology than anything we have now. His definitely authentic mathematical works, edited by Bubnov, consist only of a brief geometry and a few of his letters discussing mathematical topics, mainly the abacus. His contemporary and student, the historian Richer, recounts in the well-known passage[2808] how Borellus, “the duke of Hither Spain,” brought Gerbert from the monastery at Aurillac in Auvergne and took him across the Pyrenees, entrusting his education to Hatto, the bishop of Vich, in the northeastern part of the peninsula. Richer does not specify whether Gerbert studied Arabic. Since he is still described as adolescens when the duke and bishop take him to Italy and leave him there with the pope, it can be inferred that he probably hadn’t worked on translating from Arabic. Another almost contemporary writer briefly mentions Gerbert visiting Cordova, but may be mistaken.[2809] However, Richer states that Berbert specifically studied mathesis, a term which, as various medieval authors tell us, can mean either mathematics or divination. It seems Richer uses it in the former sense, since he later discusses only Gerbert’s accomplishments in arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy.[2810] But Robert, king of France, 987-1031, who had been Gerbert’s teacher, seems to refer to him as “that master Neptanebus” in some verses,[2811] a name that certainly suggests an astrologer, as well as a teacher of royalty, if not also a magician.

His posthumous reputation as a magician.

But Gerbert’s reputation for magic seems to start with William of Malmesbury in the first half of the twelfth century, who makes him flee by night from his monastery to Spain to study “astrology” and other arts with the Saracens,[Pg 705] until he came to surpass Julius Firmicus in his knowledge of fate. There too, according to William of Malmesbury, “he learned what the song and flight of birds portend, to summon ghostly figures from the lower world, and whatever human curiosity has encompassed whether harmful or salutary.” William then adds some more sober facts concerning Gerbert’s mathematical achievements and associates.[2812] Michael Scot in his Introduction to Astrology in the early thirteenth century speaks of a master Gilbertus who was the best nigromancer in France and whom the demons obeyed in all that he required of them day and night because of the great sacrifices which he offered and his prayers and fastings and magic books and great diversity of rings and candles. Having succeeded in borrowing an astrolabe for a short time he made the demons explain its purpose, how to operate it, and how to make another one. Later he reformed and became bishop of Ravenna and pope.[2813] In a manuscript early in the thirteenth century is a statement that Gerbert became archbishop and pope by demon aid and had a spirit enclosed in a golden head whom he consulted as to knotty problems in composing his commentary on arithmetic. When the demon expounded a certain very difficult place badly, Gerbert skipped it, and hence that unexplained passage is called the Saltus Gilberti.[2814]

But Gerbert’s reputation for magic seems to begin with William of Malmesbury in the first half of the twelfth century, who tells of him fleeing at night from his monastery to Spain to study “astrology” and other arts with the Saracens,[Pg 705] until he surpassed Julius Firmicus in his understanding of fate. There, according to William of Malmesbury, “he learned what the song and flight of birds signify, how to summon ghostly figures from the underworld, and whatever human curiosity has explored, whether harmful or beneficial.” William then adds some more factual information about Gerbert’s mathematical accomplishments and associates.[2812] Michael Scot in his Introduction to Astrology in the early thirteenth century refers to a master Gilbertus, the best necromancer in France, whom the demons obeyed in everything he asked of them day and night due to the great sacrifices he offered, along with his prayers, fasting, magic books, and an impressive array of rings and candles. After managing to borrow an astrolabe for a brief period, he made the demons explain its purpose, how to use it, and how to create another one. He later reformed, became bishop of Ravenna, and then pope.[2813] In a manuscript from the early thirteenth century, it's stated that Gerbert became archbishop and pope with the help of demons and had a spirit encased in a golden head whom he consulted for tricky problems in writing his commentary on arithmetic. When the demon poorly explained a particularly difficult section, Gerbert skipped it, which is why that unexplained passage is known as the Saltus Gilberti.[2814]

An anonymous astronomical treatise; its possible relation to Gerbert.

In a manuscript in the Bodleian library which seems to have been written early in the twelfth century[2815] is an astronomical treatise in four books which Macray suggested might be the Liber de planetis et mundi climatibus which Ethelwold, bishop of Winchester from 963 to 984, is said to have composed.[2816] The present treatise indeed embodies[Pg 706] a Letter of Ethelwold to Pope Gerbert on squaring the circle.[2817] It seems, however, that this letter on squaring the circle was really written by Adelbold, bishop of Utrecht from 1010 to 1027.[2818] Adelbold speaks of himself in the letter as a young man[2819] and of course wrote it before Gerbert’s death in 1003, and very probably before Gerbert became Pope Silvester II in 999. But he could scarcely have written the letter early enough to have it included in a work written by Ethelwold who died in 984. Our astronomical treatise in four books is therefore not by Ethelwold,[Pg 707] unless the letter be a later interpolation, but it is possibly by Adelbold or by Gerbert.[2820] Its opening words, “Quicumque mundane spere rationem et astrorum legem ...,” are similar to those of the treatise on the uses of the astrolabe which has often been ascribed to Gerbert, “Quicumque astronomice peritiam discipline....”[2821]

In a manuscript in the Bodleian library that seems to have been written in the early twelfth century, there is an astronomical treatise in four books that Macray suggested might be the Liber de planetis et mundi climatibus, which Ethelwold, bishop of Winchester from 963 to 984, is said to have composed. The present treatise indeed includes a Letter of Ethelwold to Pope Gerbert about squaring the circle. However, it seems that this letter on squaring the circle was actually written by Adelbold, bishop of Utrecht from 1010 to 1027. Adelbold refers to himself in the letter as a young man and obviously wrote it before Gerbert’s death in 1003, and likely before Gerbert became Pope Silvester II in 999. But he could hardly have written the letter early enough for it to be included in a work written by Ethelwold, who died in 984. Therefore, our astronomical treatise in four books is not by Ethelwold, unless the letter is a later addition, but it could possibly be by Adelbold or Gerbert. Its opening words, “Quicumque mundane spere rationem et astrorum legem ...,” are similar to those of the treatise on the uses of the astrolabe which has often been attributed to Gerbert, “Quicumque astronomice peritiam discipline....”

Contents of its first two books.

Our treatise then may be by Gerbert or it may be a specimen of the astronomy of the eleventh or early twelfth century. As it appears to be little known and never to have been published, it may be well to give a brief summary of its contents. An introductory paragraph outlines some of the chief points with which the treatise will be concerned, such as the twelve signs of the zodiac, their positions, “most varied qualities,” the reasons for their names, and the diverse opinions of gentile philosophers and Catholics as to their significations; the four elements; and the seven planets. In the text which follows, these topics are considered in rather the reverse order to that in which they were named in the preface. After some discussion of “the founders of astronomy and the doctors of astrology,” the first book is occupied with a description of the sphere or heavens. The second book is largely geographical, beginning with the question of the size of the earth, the zones, the ocean, and how to draw a T map. This geographical digression the author justifies in the prologue to his third book by the statement that often the position of the stars can be determined from the location of countries, and that[Pg 708] if the habitat of peoples is known one can more easily arrive at the effect of the stars.[2822]

Our write-up could be by Gerbert or it might be an example of astronomy from the eleventh or early twelfth century. Since it seems to be little known and has never been published, it’s a good idea to give a brief summary of its contents. An introductory paragraph outlines some of the main points that the treatise will cover, such as the twelve zodiac signs, their positions, “most varied qualities,” the reasons for their names, and the different views of non-Christian philosophers and Catholics regarding their meanings; the four elements; and the seven planets. In the text that follows, these topics are discussed in a rather different order than listed in the preface. After some discussion of “the founders of astronomy and the doctors of astrology,” the first book is dedicated to describing the sphere or heavens. The second book mainly focuses on geography, starting with the size of the earth, the zones, the ocean, and how to create a T map. The author justifies this geographical digression in the prologue to his third book by stating that often the position of the stars can be determined from the locations of countries and that if we know where people live, it’s easier to understand the effect of the stars.[Pg 708]

Attitude towards astrology.

This suggests that the author believes in astrological influence, and in the two following books he states a number of astrological doctrines, not, however, as his own convictions but as the opinions of the genethliaci or astrologers, or “those who will have it that prosperity and adversity in human life are due to these stars.”[2823] On the other hand, he seldom subjects the astrologers to any adverse criticism. Indeed, early in the third book, he states that the belief of the genethliaci that human wealth and honors, poverty and obscurity, depend upon the stars, pertains to another subject than that which he is at present discussing; namely, prognostication, concerning which he will treat fully in later chapters. But I cannot see that he fulfills this promise in the present manuscript, which seems to end rather abruptly,[2824] so that possibly there is something missing. In the previous passage, however, he immediately proceeded to admit that the sun and moon greatly affect our life and to tell further how it is connected with the other five planets. In the star of Saturn the soul is said to busy itself especially with reasoning and intelligence, logic and theory. Jupiter is practical and represents the power of action. Mars signifies animosity; Venus, desire; Mercury, interpretation. Men have proved the moon’s moist influence by sleeping out-of-doors and finding that more humor collected in their heads when they slept in the moonlight than when they did not.[2825] After mentioning the twelve signs, “through which the aforesaid planets revolving exert varied influences, and even, according to the genethliaci, make a good man in some nativities and a bad man in others,”[2826] the author goes on to tell which[Pg 709] signs are masculine and which are feminine, to relate them to the four cardinal points and to the four elements, to define the twenty-eight mansions and their distribution among the twelve signs and seven planets,[2827] and to tell how the planets differ in quality.[2828] All this is providing at least the basis for astrological prediction.

This suggests that the author believes in the influence of astrology, and in the next two books, he outlines several astrological doctrines, not as his own beliefs but as the views of the genethliaci or astrologers, or “those who claim that good fortune and bad luck in human life are caused by these stars.”[2823] On the other hand, he rarely criticizes the astrologers. In fact, early in the third book, he mentions that the genethliaci believe that human wealth and honors, as well as poverty and obscurity, depend on the stars, and this belief relates to a different topic than the one currently being discussed; specifically, prognostication, which he plans to cover in more detail in later chapters. However, I don’t see that he keeps this promise in the current manuscript, which seems to end rather suddenly,[2824] suggesting that something might be missing. In the previous passage, though, he quickly admits that the sun and moon significantly impact our lives and explains how this connects to the other five planets. In the star of Saturn, the soul is said to particularly engage with reasoning and intelligence, logic and theory. Jupiter is practical and signifies the power of action. Mars represents conflict; Venus, desire; Mercury, interpretation. People have demonstrated the moon’s moist effect by camping outside and noticing that they collected more humor in their heads when they slept in the moonlight than when they didn’t.[2825] After mentioning the twelve signs, “through which the aforementioned planets revolve and exert varying influences, and even, according to the genethliaci, create a good person in some births and a bad person in others,”[2826] the author goes on to identify which[Pg 709] signs are masculine and which are feminine, relate them to the four cardinal directions and the four elements, define the twenty-eight mansions and their allocation among the twelve signs and seven planets,[2827] and explain how the planets differ in nature.[2828] All of this lays at least the groundwork for astrological prediction.

The fourth book.

The fourth book of the treatise is mainly taken up with descriptions and figures of the constellations, concerning which the author often repeats the fables of antiquity. After discussing the six ages of the world, the author intended to insert a figure on what is the next to last page of the present text to show “the harmony of the elements, climates of the sky, times of the year, and humors of the human body,” for, as he goes on to say, man is called a microcosm by the philosophers. This missing figure or figures would have been analogous to those which Wickersheimer investigated in the early medieval manuscripts in the libraries of France.

The fourth book of the treatise mainly focuses on descriptions and illustrations of the constellations, where the author frequently repeats the ancient fables. After discussing the six ages of the world, the author planned to include a figure on what is the second to last page of the current text to demonstrate “the harmony of the elements, climates of the sky, times of the year, and humors of the human body,” because, as he continues to explain, philosophers refer to man as a microcosm. This missing figure or figures would have been similar to those that Wickersheimer explored in early medieval manuscripts found in libraries across France.

Citations: Arabic names.

Our author does not make many citations, but among them are Eratosthenes,[2829] Aratus, Ptolemy, Macrobius, and Martianus Capella. Some of these authors are perhaps known to him only indirectly, and he seems to make use of Isidore and Pliny without mentioning them. He shows, however, an acquaintance with foreign languages, listing the seven heavens as “oleth, lothen, ethat, edim, eliyd, hachim, atarpha,” and giving Greek, Hebrew, and “Saracen” names for the seven planets, as well as a “Similitudo,” or corresponding metal, and “Interpretatio,” or quality such as “Obscurus, Clarus, Igneus.”[2830] He also gives the Arabic names for the twenty-eight mansions into which the circle of the zodiac subdivides.[2831] We now turn to another treatise, found in tenth and eleventh century manuscripts, in which Arabian influence is apparent.

Our author doesn't include many citations, but he does mention Eratosthenes, Aratus, Ptolemy, Macrobius, and Martianus Capella. Some of these writers may only be familiar to him indirectly, and he seems to refer to Isidore and Pliny without directly naming them. He does, however, demonstrate knowledge of foreign languages by listing the seven heavens as “oleth, lothen, ethat, edim, eliyd, hachim, atarpha,” and he provides Greek, Hebrew, and “Saracen” names for the seven planets, along with a “Similitudo,” or corresponding metal, and “Interpretatio,” or qualities such as “Obscurus, Clarus, Igneus.” He also includes the Arabic names for the twenty-eight mansions into which the zodiac is divided. We now turn to another treatise found in tenth and eleventh-century manuscripts, where Arabian influence is evident.

[Pg 710]

[Pg 710]

The Mathematica of Alchandrus or Alhandreus.

William of Malmesbury, writing in the first half of the twelfth century concerning Gerbert’s studies in Spain, says, probably with a great deal of exaggeration, that Gerbert surpassed Ptolemy in his knowledge of the astrolabe, Alandraeus in his knowledge of the distances between the stars, and Julius Firmicus in his knowledge of fate.[2832] It is rather remarkable that a work ascribed to Alhandreus or Alcandrus, “supreme astrologer,” should be found in two manuscripts of the eleventh century[2833] in both of which occurs also the work on the astrolabe which is perhaps by Gerbert, while in one is found also the Mathesis of Julius Firmicus Maternus. Alchadrinus or Archandrinus is cited in Michael Scot’s long Introduction to Astrology as the author of a “book of fortune making mention of the three facies of the signs and the planets ruling in them,” and Michael adds that a similar method of divination is employed in general among the Arabs and Indians as can be seen in the streets and alleys of Messina where “learned women” answer the questions of merchants.[2834] Peter of Abano in his Lucidator astronomiae,[2835] written in 1310, mentions Alchandrus as a successor of Hermes Trismegistus in the science of astronomy but as flourishing before the time of Nebuchadnezzar. Alchandrus was probably scarcely as ancient as that, but the treatise ascribed to him also exists in Latin in a manuscript of the tenth century,[2836] and seems to be a translation from[Pg 711] the Arabic. In any case it is full of Arabic and Hebrew words, and professes to cite the opinions of Egyptians, Ishmaelites, and Chaldeans in general as well as those of Ascalu the Ishmaelite and Arfarfan or Argafalan or Argafalaus[2837] the Chaldean in particular. Since the name Alchandrus or Alhandreus is found so far as I know in no historian or bibliographer of Arabian literature or learning,[2838] we shall treat somewhat fully of the work and its author here.

William of Malmesbury, writing in the first half of the twelfth century about Gerbert’s studies in Spain, claims—likely with quite a bit of exaggeration—that Gerbert outshone Ptolemy in his understanding of the astrolabe, Alandraeus in his knowledge of the distances between stars, and Julius Firmicus in his insights into fate.[2832] It's quite notable that a work attributed to Alhandreus or Alcandrus, “supreme astrologer,” exists in two eleventh-century manuscripts[2833] that also contain the work on the astrolabe that might be by Gerbert, while one of them additionally includes the Mathesis of Julius Firmicus Maternus. Alchadrinus or Archandrinus is mentioned in Michael Scot’s extensive Introduction to Astrology as the author of a “book of fortune that mentions the three facies of the signs and their ruling planets,” and Michael notes that a similar method of divination is generally practiced among Arabs and Indians, as can be observed in the streets and alleys of Messina where “learned women” respond to merchants' inquiries.[2834] Peter of Abano, in his Lucidator astronomiae,[2835] written in 1310, references Alchandrus as a successor to Hermes Trismegistus in the field of astronomy, claiming he thrived before the era of Nebuchadnezzar. Alchandrus was probably not that ancient, but the treatise attributed to him also exists in Latin within a tenth-century manuscript,[2836] and appears to be a translation from the Arabic. In any case, it is filled with Arabic and Hebrew terms and claims to cite the views of Egyptians, Ishmaelites, and Chaldeans in general, as well as those of Ascalu the Ishmaelite and Arfarfan or Argafalan or Argafalaus[2837] the Chaldean in particular. Since the name Alchandrus or Alhandreus does not, as far as I know, appear in any historian or bibliographer of Arab literature or learning,[2838] we will discuss the work and its author in some detail here.

An account of its contents.

The “Mathematic of Alhandreus, supreme astrologer,” as it is entitled in one manuscript, opens somewhat abruptly with a terse statement of the qualities of the planets. Two estimates of the number of years between creation and the birth of Christ are then given, one “according to the Hebrews,” the other “according to others.”[2839] There follow letters of the Greek alphabet with Roman numerals expressing their respective numerical values, perhaps for future reference in connection with some sphere of life or death. Next is considered the division of the zodiac into twelve signs for which Hebrew as well as Latin names are given. The movements of the planets through the signs are then discussed, and it is explained in the usual astrological style that Leo is the house of the sun, Cancer of the moon, while two signs are assigned to each of the other five planets. Every planet is erect in some one sign and falls in its opposite, and any planet is friendly to another in whose house it is erect and hostile to another in whose house it declines. Presently the author treats of “the order of the planets according to nature and their names according to the Hebrews,”[2840] and then of their sex and courses, which last leads to considerable[Pg 712] digressions anent the solar and lunar calendars.[2841] Then the twelve signs are related to the four “climates” and elements.

The “Mathematic of Alhandreus, supreme astrologer,” as titled in one manuscript, starts quite abruptly with a brief description of the qualities of the planets. It then provides two estimates of the number of years between creation and the birth of Christ: one “according to the Hebrews,” and the other “according to others.”[2839] Following this are letters of the Greek alphabet paired with Roman numerals indicating their numerical values, likely for future reference regarding some aspects of life or death. Next, the text discusses the division of the zodiac into twelve signs, for which both Hebrew and Latin names are supplied. Then the movements of the planets through the signs are analyzed, explaining in typical astrological fashion that Leo is the house of the sun and Cancer of the moon, with two signs allocated to each of the other five planets. Each planet is strong in one sign and weak in its opposite, and a planet is friendly to another located in the sign it is strong in while it is antagonistic to the one in which it is weak. The author then addresses “the order of the planets according to nature and their names according to the Hebrews,”[2840] followed by a discussion of their gender and paths, which leads to considerable [Pg 712] digressions about the solar and lunar calendars.[2841] Finally, the twelve signs are connected to the four “climates” and elements.

Astrological doctrine.

All this implies a favorable attitude to astrology, and the author has already expressed his conviction more than once that human affairs are disposed by the seven planets according to the will of God.[2842] Since man like the world is composed of the four elements it is no false opinion which persuades us that under God’s government human affairs are principally regulated by the celestial bodies.[2843] To make this plainer the author proposes to insert an astrological figure “which Alexander of Macedon composed most diligently,” and which presumably would have been of the microcosmus or Melothesia type, but the space for it remains blank in the manuscript. Next comes a paragraph on the sex of the signs and their rising and setting, and then lists of the hours of the day and night governed by the signs and by each planet for all the days of the week.[2844]

All this suggests a positive view of astrology, and the author has stated more than once that human affairs are influenced by the seven planets according to God's will. Since humans, like the world, are made up of the four elements, it is not a misguided belief that human affairs are mainly regulated by celestial bodies under God’s control. To clarify this, the author intends to include an astrological chart “which Alexander of Macedon created with great care,” and which would likely have been of the microcosm or Melothesia type, but the space for it is left empty in the manuscript. Next, there’s a section discussing the gender of the signs and their rising and setting, followed by lists of the hours of the day and night governed by the signs and each planet for all the days of the week.

Nativities and name-calculations.

Then we read, “These are the twenty-eight principal parts or stars (i.e. constellations) through which the fates of all are disposed and pronounced indubitably, future as well as present. Anyone may with diligence forecast goings and returnings, origins and endings, by the most agreeable aid of these horoscopes.”[2845] These twenty-eight parts are[Pg 713] of course the sub-divisions of the zodiac into mansions of the sun or moon which we have already encountered, and Arabic names are given for them beginning with Alnait, the first part of the sign Aries. First, however, we are instructed how to determine under which one of them anyone was born by a numerical calculation of the value of his name and that of his natural mother similar to that of the spheres of life and death except that it is based upon Hebrew instead of Greek letters.[2846] Then follow statements of the sort of men who are born under each of the twenty-eight mansions, their physical, mental, and moral characteristics, and any especial marks upon the body,—either birth-marks or inflicted subsequently by such means as hot irons and dog-bite,—their health or sickness, term of life, and manner of death,—which in the case of Alnait, the first mansion, will be “by the machinations or imaginations of the magic arts.”[2847] Also the number of their children is roughly predicted.

Then we read, “These are the twenty-eight main parts or stars (i.e. constellations) that determine and reveal everyone's fate clearly, both future and present. Anyone can, with diligence, predict movements, beginnings, and endings, thanks to these horoscopes.”[2845] These twenty-eight parts are[Pg 713] obviously the subdivisions of the zodiac into mansions of the sun or moon that we have already learned about, and they have Arabic names starting with Alnait, the first part of the sign Aries. First, though, we are taught how to identify which one of them someone falls under by calculating the numerical value of their name and their mother's name, similar to how life and death are determined, but based on Hebrew instead of Greek letters.[2846] Then there are descriptions of the characteristics of people born under each of the twenty-eight mansions, including their physical, mental, and moral traits, as well as any special marks on their body—either birthmarks or those inflicted later by means like hot irons and dog bites—along with their health or illness, lifespan, and manner of death—which for Alnait, the first mansion, will be “by the schemes or fantasies of magic.”[2847] The number of their children is also roughly predicted.

Interrogations and more name-calculations.

Next is discussed the course of the planets through the signs, the houses of the planets, and their positions in the signs at creation.[2848] The author then turns to the influence of the planets upon men and gives another method of numerical calculation of a man’s name in order to determine which planet he is under.[2849] Under the heading “Excerpts from the books of Alexander, the astrologer king,”[2850] directions are given for the recovery of lost or stolen articles and descriptions of the thief are provided for the hour of each planet. The letter of Argafalaus to Alexander instructs how to read men’s secret thoughts as Plato the Philosopher used to do, and how to tell what is hidden in a person’s hand by means of the hours of the planets.[2851] After some further[Pg 714] discussion of astrological interrogations the manuscript at the British Museum closes with the Breviary of Alhandreus, supreme astrologer[2852], for learning anything unknown by a method of computation from Hebrew and Arabic letters.

Next, the text discusses the movement of the planets through the signs, the houses of the planets, and their positions in the signs at creation.[2848] The author then examines the influence of the planets on people and provides another method for numerically calculating a person’s name to determine which planet governs them.[2849] Under the section “Excerpts from the books of Alexander, the astrologer king,”[2850] instructions are given for recovering lost or stolen items, along with descriptions of the thief relevant to the hour of each planet. The letter from Argafalaus to Alexander explains how to read people's secret thoughts, as Plato the Philosopher used to do, and how to identify what is hidden in a person’s hand using the hours of the planets.[2851] After some additional[Pg 714] discussion of astrological inquiries, the manuscript at the British Museum concludes with the Breviary of Alhandreus, the foremost astrologer[2852], for discovering anything unknown through a method of computation using Hebrew and Arabic letters.

Alchandrus or Alhandreus not the same as Alexander.

Someone may wonder if the names Alhandreus and Alchandrus may not be mere corruptions of Alexander who is cited and quoted even more than has yet been indicated[2853], and if some careless head-line writer has not inserted the name Alchandri or Alhandrei instead of Alexandri in the Titulus. But this would leave the statements of William of Malmesbury and of Peter of Abano to be explained away. Or, if it is argued that the name of Alhandreus should be attached only to the Breviary, it must be remembered that in the earliest manuscript, which does not contain the Breviary, the treatise is none the less called the Book of Alchandreus. As a matter of fact there is found also in the manuscripts a “Mathematica Alexandri summi astrologi,”[2854] but while the title is the same, the contents are different from the “Mathematica Alhandrei summi astrologi.”

Someone might wonder if the names Alhandreus and Alchandrus are just variations of Alexander, who is mentioned and quoted even more than previously indicated[2853]. They might think that a careless headline writer accidentally replaced the name Alexandri with Alchandri or Alhandrei in the Titulus. However, this would mean we need to find a way to explain the mentions by William of Malmesbury and Peter of Abano. If we argue that Alhandreus should only be linked to the Breviary, we have to acknowledge that in the earliest manuscript—which doesn’t include the Breviary—the treatise is still referred to as the Book of Alchandreus. In fact, we also find in the manuscripts a “Mathematica Alexandri summi astrologi,”[2854] but even though the title is the same, the content is different from the “Mathematica Alhandrei summi astrologi.”

However, the treatise itself is found together with the[Pg 715] Mathematica Alhandrei in a tenth century manuscript.[2855] But no author is mentioned, and instead of Mathematica the title reads “Incipiunt proportiones cppfcfntfs knkstrprx indxstrkb,” which may be deciphered as “Incipiunt proportiones competentes in astrorum industria.”[2856] Possibly therefore this treatise is a part of the work of Alchander, and the title Mathematica Alexandri is an error for Mathematica Alhandrei.

However, the treatise itself is found along with the[Pg 715] Mathematica Alhandrei in a tenth-century manuscript.[2855] But no author is mentioned, and instead of Mathematica the title reads “Incipiunt proportiones cppfcfntfs knkstrprx indxstrkb,” which can be translated as “Incipiunt proportiones competentes in astrorum industria.”[2856] This suggests that this treatise might actually be part of the work of Alchander, and the title Mathematica Alexandri could be a mistake for Mathematica Alhandrei.

Alkandrinus or Alchandrinus on nativities according to the mansions of the moon.

Moreover, in later manuscripts we encounter authors with names very similar to Alchandrus and works by them of the same sort as that we have just considered. In a fifteenth century manuscript at Oxford we find ascribed to Alkandrinus an account of the types of men born in each of the twenty-eight mansions of the moon[2857] such as we have seen formed a part of the Mathematica Alhandrei. And in a fifteenth century manuscript at Paris occurs under the name of Alchandrinus what seems to be a Christian revision of that same part of the Mathematica Alhandrei.[2858] What appears to be another revision and working over of this same discussion of nativities according to the twenty-eight mansions of the moon[2859] appeared in print a number of times in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and in[Pg 716] French and English translations as well as Latin. The author’s name in these printed editions is usually given as Arcandam, but the English edition of 1626 adds “or Alchandrin.”[2860]

Moreover, in later manuscripts, we come across authors with names very similar to Alchandrus and similar works. In a fifteenth-century manuscript at Oxford, we find an account attributed to Alkandrinus about the types of men born in each of the twenty-eight mansions of the moon[2857] similar to those in the Mathematica Alhandrei. In a fifteenth-century manuscript in Paris, there is what seems to be a Christian revision of that same section of the Mathematica Alhandrei under the name Alchandrinus.[2858] Another revision and adaptation of this discussion on nativities according to the twenty-eight mansions of the moon[2859] was published several times in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, appearing in French and English translations as well as in Latin. The author’s name in these printed editions is usually Arcandam, but the English edition from 1626 adds “or Alchandrin.”[2860]

Albandinus.

Two other manuscripts at Paris[2861] contain under the name of Albandinus a “book of similitudes of the sons of Adam, fortunate and unfortunate, of life or death, according to nations, that is, their nativities according to the twelve signs.” The treatise opens with a method of calculating a person’s nativity from the letters in his own and his mother’s name similar to that which occurs in the course of the Mathematica Alhandrei, but then applies it directly to the twelve signs rather than to the twenty-eight mansions of the moon. It also does not bother with the Hebrew alphabet but gives numerical equivalents directly for the Latin letters. Some treatise by Albandinus on sickness and the signs in a manuscript at Munich[2862] is perhaps identical with the foregoing.

Two other manuscripts in Paris[2861] contain a “book of similarities about the sons of Adam, both fortunate and unfortunate, concerning life or death, based on nations and their nativities according to the twelve signs.” The treatise starts with a way to calculate a person’s nativity using the letters of their name and their mother’s name, similar to what is found in the Mathematica Alhandrei, but then applies it directly to the twelve signs instead of the twenty-eight moon mansions. It also skips the Hebrew alphabet, providing numerical equivalents directly for the Latin letters. A treatise by Albandinus discussing sickness and the signs in a manuscript in Munich[2862] might be the same as the one mentioned above.

Geomancy of Alkardianus or Alchandiandus.

To an Alkardianus or Alchandiandus is ascribed a geomancy,[2863] and since it also is arranged according to the twenty-eight divisions of the zodiac with 28 judges and 28 chapters each consisting of 28 lines in answer to as many questions, it would seem almost certain that it is by the same author who treated of the influences of the 28 houses or[Pg 717] facies of the twelve signs upon those born under them. Moreover, this Alkardianus or Alchandiandus states in his preface that he has composed certain books on the dispositions of the signs and the courses of the planets and on prediction of the future from them. “But since moderns always rejoice in brevity,” he has added this handy and rapid geomantic means of answering questions and ascertaining the decrees of the stars. The 28 tables of 28 lines each of this Alkardianus or Alchandiandus are identical with one of the two such sets[2864] commonly included in the Experimentarius[2865] of Bernard Silvester, a work of geomancy which he is said to have translated from the Arabic.[2866] He lived in the twelfth century and will be the subject of one of our later chapters.

To an Alkardianus or Alchandiandus is attributed a geomancy,[2863] and since it is also organized according to the twenty-eight divisions of the zodiac with 28 judges and 28 chapters, each consisting of 28 lines to answer as many questions, it seems almost certain that it is by the same author who wrote about the influences of the 28 houses or [Pg 717] facies of the twelve signs on those born under them. Furthermore, this Alkardianus or Alchandiandus mentions in his preface that he has written certain books on the traits of the signs and the paths of the planets as well as on predicting the future from them. “But since moderns always prefer brevity,” he has added this handy and quick geomantic method of answering questions and determining the decrees of the stars. The 28 tables of 28 lines each created by this Alkardianus or Alchandiandus are identical to one of the two sets [2864] commonly included in the Experimentarius [2865] by Bernard Silvester, a work of geomancy that he is said to have translated from Arabic [2866]. He lived in the twelfth century and will be discussed in one of our later chapters.

An anonymous treatise or fragment of the tenth century.

It still remains to speak of a portion of our tenth century manuscript at Paris which begins, after the book of Alchandrus seems to have concluded, with the words, “Quicunque nosse desiderat legem astrorum....”[2867] This Incipit is so similar to that of the twenty-one chapters on the astrolabe, “Quicumque astronomiam peritiam disciplinae ...” and to that of the four books of astronomy, “Quicumque mundane spere rationem et astrorum,” that one is tempted to imply some relation between them, and, in view of the tenth century date of the one at present in question, to connect it like the others with the name of Gerbert. Our present treatise or fragment of a treatise is largely astrological in character, “following for the present the wisdom of the mathematici who think that mundane affairs are carried on under the rule of the constellations.” This refusal to accept personal responsibility for astrological doctrine is similar to the attitude of the author of the four books of[Pg 718] astronomy, so that perhaps the present text is the missing fragment required to fulfil his promise to treat of the subject of prognostication in later chapters. If so it indulges in some repetition, as it goes into the relations existing between signs, planets, and elements, and gives the “Saracen” names[2868] for the twenty-eight mansions of the moon. It includes a way to detect theft for each planet and a method of determining if a patient will recover by computation of the numerical value of the letters in his name. These features are suggestive of the Mathematical of Alchandrus.

It’s still necessary to discuss a part of our 10th-century manuscript in Paris, which starts, after the text by Alchandrus seems to have ended, with the words, “Quicunque nosse desiderat legem astrorum....”[2867] This Incipit is very similar to that of the twenty-one chapters on the astrolabe, “Quicumque astronomiam peritiam disciplinae ...” and to that of the four books of astronomy, “Quicumque mundane spere rationem et astrorum,” leading one to suggest a connection between them. Given the manuscript's 10th-century date, it can be associated like the others with Gerbert. Our current treatise or fragment is mostly about astrology, “following for now the ideas of the mathematici who believe that earthly matters are governed by the constellations.” This reluctance to accept personal responsibility for astrological beliefs is similar to the stance of the author of the four books of astronomy, indicating that this text might be the missing piece needed to complete his promise to address the subject of predictions in later chapters. If that’s the case, it does repeat some content, as it explores the relationships between signs, planets, and elements, and provides the “Saracen” names[2868] for the twenty-eight lunar mansions. It also offers a method to detect theft for each planet and a technique for determining if a patient will recover based on the numerical value of the letters in their name. These aspects are reminiscent of Alchandrus’s Mathematical.


[Pg 719]

[Pg 719]

CHAPTER XXXI
ANGLO-SAXON, SALERNITAN, AND OTHER LATIN MEDICINE IN MANUSCRIPTS FROM THE NINTH TO THE TWELFTH CENTURY

Plan of this chapter—Instances of early medieval additions to ancient medicine—Leech-Book of Bald and Cild—Magical procedure and incantations—A superstitious compound—Summary—Cauterization—Treatment of demoniacs—Incantations and characters—In a twelfth century manuscript—Magic with a split hazel rod—More incantations and the virtues of a vulture—Lots of the saints—Superstitious veterinary and medical practice—Two Paris manuscripts—Blood-letting—Resemblances to Egerton 821—Virtues of blood—Pious incantations and magical procedure—More superstitious veterinary practice—The School of Salerno—Was Salernitan medicine free from superstition?—The Practica of Petrocellus—Its sources—Fourfold origin of medicine—Therapeutics of Petrocellus—The Regimen Salernitanum—Its superstition—The Practica of Archimatthaeus—A Salernitan treatise of about 1200—The wives of Salerno.

Plan of this chapter—Examples of early medieval contributions to ancient medicine—Leech-Book of Bald and Cild—Magical rituals and spells—A superstitious mixture—Summary—Cauterization—Treatment of demoniacs—Spells and symbols—In a twelfth-century manuscript—Magic with a split hazel rod—Additional spells and the properties of a vulture—Lots of the saints—Superstitious veterinary and medical practices—Two Paris manuscripts—Bloodletting—Similarities to Egerton 821—Properties of blood—Pious spells and magical practices—More superstitious veterinary methods—The School of Salerno—Was Salernitan medicine free of superstition?—The Practica of Petrocellus—Its sources—Fourfold origin of medicine—Therapeutics of Petrocellus—The Regimen Salernitanum—Its superstitions—The Practica of Archimatthaeus—A Salernitan treatise from around 1200—The wives of Salerno.

Plan of this chapter.

In this chapter our purpose is to treat of early medieval medicine as distinct on the one hand from post-classical medicine, to which we have already devoted a chapter, and on the other hand from later medieval medicine as affected by translations from the Arabic and other oriental influence. Perhaps one of the outcomes of our discussion will be to suggest that any such distinctions cannot be at all sharply or chronologically drawn. However, the writings which we shall discuss now are contained mainly in manuscripts dating from the ninth to the twelfth century, although some of them may have been first composed at an earlier date than that of the manuscript in which they chance to be preserved. Some are in Anglo-Saxon; more, in Latin. Some it has been customary to classify under the caption of Salernitan. We shall postpone until the next chapter our consideration of Constantinus Africanus, although the dates of[Pg 720] his life fall within the eleventh century, because he already at that early date represents the introduction of Arabic medicine to the western world.

In this chapter, we aim to discuss early medieval medicine, distinguishing it from post-classical medicine, which we covered in a previous chapter, and from later medieval medicine influenced by Arabic translations and other Eastern sources. One of the outcomes of our discussion may be to indicate that such distinctions can't be clearly or chronologically defined. The writings we’ll cover are mainly found in manuscripts from the ninth to the twelfth century, though some may have been written earlier than the date of the manuscript they’re found in. Some are in Anglo-Saxon, while more are in Latin. Some of these texts are typically categorized as Salernitan. We will hold off on discussing Constantinus Africanus until the next chapter, even though he lived during the eleventh century, as he represents the early introduction of Arabic medicine into the Western world.

Instances of early medieval additions to ancient medicine.

A good instance of the working over by men of the early medieval period of the medical writings of the late Roman period is provided by a manuscript of the ninth or tenth century at Berlin.[2869] It now consists of a number of fragments whose original order can no longer be determined. These are made up of extracts from different sources or from other collections, but the collection also bears the mark of its last compiler who has introduced new remedies of his own and words derived from the vernacular of his day. Even extracts on fevers taken from the old Latin adaptation of Galen[2870] are added to by some Christian physician, who introduces among other things some incantations, such as, “I adjure you, spots, that you go away and recede from and be destroyed from the eye of the servant of God.”[2871] The manuscript also comprises more than one tract on how dreams or the fate of the patient or child born can be foretold from the day of the moon.[2872] Another tract[2873] tells how God made the first man out of eight parts, of which the first was the mud of the earth and the last the light of the world. This would seem to be rather a novel departure from the usual four element theory but perhaps involves ancient Gnostic error. The author further argues that individual divergences of character depend upon the preponderance of one or another of the eight constituents of the body.

A good example of how men from the early medieval period adapted the medical writings of the late Roman era is a manuscript from the ninth or tenth century located in Berlin.[2869] It now contains a collection of fragments whose original sequence can't be determined anymore. These fragments are made up of excerpts from various sources or different collections, but the compilation also shows the influence of its last compiler, who added his own remedies and terms from the common language of his time. Even the excerpts on fevers taken from the old Latin version of Galen[2870] are supplemented by some Christian physician, who includes various incantations, such as, “I command you, spots, to leave and disappear from the eye of the servant of God.”[2871] The manuscript also includes multiple writings on how to predict dreams or the fate of a patient or newborn based on the phases of the moon.[2872] Another piece[2873] explains how God created the first man from eight parts, the first being the mud of the earth and the last the light of the world. This seems to represent a rather new perspective compared to the usual four-element theory, but it might involve ancient Gnostic error. The author further claims that individual differences in character are influenced by the dominance of one or another of the eight components in the body.

Leech-Book of Bald and Cild.

The Anglo-Saxon Leech-Book of Bald and Cild[2874] has been called “the first medical treatise written in western Europe[Pg 721] which can be said to belong to modern history.”[2875] It was produced in the tenth century. However, it extracts a good deal from late Greek medical writers, such as Paul of Aegina and Alexander of Tralles, and cites Pliny, “the mickle leech,” for the cure of baldness by application of dead bees burnt to ashes,[2876] a remedy also found in the Euporista ascribed to Galen. On the whole, however, it uses parts of animals somewhat less than Pliny, although sometimes a powdered earthworm is recommended, or a man stung by an adder is to drink holy water in which a black snail has been washed, or the bite of a viper is to be smeared with ear-wax while thrice repeating “the prayer of Saint John.”[2877] And a man about to engage in combat is advised to eat swallow nestlings boiled in wine.[2878] Herbs are as useful against a woman’s tongue as birds against a foeman’s steel, for we are told: “Against a woman’s chatter; taste at night fasting a root of radish; that day the chatter cannot harm thee.”[2879] There are directions for plucking herbs similar to those in Pliny,[2880] and the significance which he ascribed to cart ruts is paralleled by the injunction, after one has treated a venomous bite by striking five scarifications, one on the bite and four around it, to “throw the blood with a spoon silently over a wagon way.”[2881] Eight virtues of the stone agate are enumerated.[2882]

The Anglo-Saxon Leech-Book of Bald and Cild[2874] is considered “the first medical treatise written in western Europe[Pg 721] that belongs to modern history.”[2875] It was created in the tenth century. However, it draws a lot from late Greek medical writers, like Paul of Aegina and Alexander of Tralles, and references Pliny, “the great healer,” for curing baldness by applying ashes from burnt dead bees,[2876] a remedy also found in the Euporista attributed to Galen. Overall, it uses animal parts slightly less than Pliny, though it sometimes suggests powdered earthworm or that a man stung by an adder should drink holy water that a black snail has been washed in, or that the bite of a viper should be treated with earwax while repeating “the prayer of Saint John” three times.[2877] Additionally, a man preparing for battle is advised to eat swallow nestlings cooked in wine.[2878] Herbs can be as effective against a woman’s gossip as birds are against an enemy’s weapons, as it is stated: “To counter a woman’s chatter; taste a radish root at night while fasting; that day, the chatter cannot harm you.”[2879] There are instructions for picking herbs similar to those in Pliny,[2880] and the importance he placed on cart ruts is echoed by the advice that after treating a venomous bite with five cuts—one on the bite and four around it—you should “silently throw the blood over a pathway with a spoon.”[2881] Eight properties of the stone agate are listed.[2882]

Magical procedure and incantations.

Not only such occult virtues of animals, vegetables, and minerals, but also magical procedure and incantations abound in the work. In a prescription “for flying venom and every venomous swelling” butter is to be churned on a Friday from the milk of a “neat or hind all of one color,” and a litany, paternoster, and incantation of strange words are to be repeated nine times each.[2883] A great deal of superstitious use is made of such Christian symbols, names, and forms of prayer as the sign of the cross, the names of the four evangelists,[Pg 722] and masses, psalms, and exorcisms. Fear of witchcraft and enchantment is manifested, and the ills both of man and beast are frequently attributed to evil spirits. “A drink for a fiend-sick man” is on one occasion “to be drunk out of a church bell,” with the accompaniment of much additional ecclesiastical hocus-pocus.[2884] “If a horse is elf-shot, then take the knife of which the haft is horn of a fallow ox, and on which are three brass nails. Then write upon the horse’s forehead Christ’s mark, and on each of the limbs which thou may feel at. Then take the left ear; prick a hole in it in silence. This thou shalt do; then take a yerd, strike the horse on the back, then it will be whole. And write upon the horn of the knife these words, Benedicite omnia opera domini dominum. Be the elf what it may, this is mighty for him to amends.”[2885]

Not only are there hidden powers of animals, plants, and minerals, but also plenty of magical rituals and chants in this work. In a recipe “for curing venom and any poisonous swelling,” butter should be churned on a Friday using milk from a “neat or hind of one color,” with a litany, the Lord's Prayer, and a chant of unusual words to be repeated nine times each.[2883] A lot of superstitious practices involve Christian symbols, names, and forms of prayer like the sign of the cross, the names of the four evangelists,[Pg 722] and masses, psalms, and exorcisms. There is a fear of witchcraft and spells, with illnesses in both humans and animals often blamed on evil spirits. “A drink for a man possessed” is supposed to be “drunk from a church bell,” accompanied by a lot of additional religious nonsense.[2884] “If a horse is elf-shot, take a knife that has a handle made from the horn of a fallow ox, and on it are three brass nails. Then write Christ’s mark on the horse’s forehead and on each limb that you can touch. Then take the left ear; silently prick a hole in it. Do this, then take a rod, strike the horse on the back, and it will be healed. And write on the horn of the knife these words, Benedicite omnia opera domini dominum. Whatever the elf may be, this will be powerful for his remedy.”[2885]

A superstitious compound.

Neither Bald and Cild nor their continuator shared Pliny’s prejudice against compound medicines. In the third book by the continuator is described “a salve against the elfin race and nocturnal visitors, and for women with whom the devil hath carnal commerce.” One takes the ewe hop plant, wormwood, bishopwort, lupin, ashthroat, henbane, harewort, viper’s bugloss, heatherberry plants, cropleek, garlic, grains of hedgerife, githrife, and fennel. These herbs are put in a vessel and placed beneath the altar where nine masses are sung over them. They are then boiled in butter and mutton fat; much holy salt is added; the salve is strained through a cloth; and what remains of the worts is thrown into running water. The patient’s forehead and eyes are to be smeared with this ointment and he is further to be censed with incense and signed often with the sign of the cross.[2886]

Neither Bald and Cild nor their successor shared Pliny’s dislike for combined medicines. In the third book by the successor, a “salve against elves and nighttime visitors, and for women who have relations with the devil” is described. You take the ewe hop plant, wormwood, bishopwort, lupin, ashthroat, henbane, harewort, viper’s bugloss, heatherberry plants, cropleek, garlic, grains of hedgerife, githrife, and fennel. These herbs are placed in a container under the altar while nine masses are sung over them. They are then boiled in butter and mutton fat; a lot of holy salt is added; the salve is strained through a cloth; and the leftover herbs are thrown into running water. The patient's forehead and eyes are to be rubbed with this ointment, and they should also be censed with incense and frequently marked with the sign of the cross. [2886]

Summary.

The “modern” character of Bald’s and Cild’s book cannot be said to have produced any diminution of superstition as against the writings of antiquity. But we do find native herbs introduced, also popular medicine, and probably a considerable amount of Teutonic and perhaps also Celtic folk[Pg 723] -lore, which, however, has been more or less Christianized. Indeed the connection between medicine and religion is remarkably close.

The "modern" nature of Bald's and Cild's book doesn't seem to have reduced superstition compared to ancient writings. However, it does include local herbs, popular remedies, and likely a significant amount of Teutonic and possibly Celtic folklore, which has been somewhat adapted to fit Christian beliefs. In fact, the link between medicine and religion is strikingly strong.[Pg 723]

Cauterization.

The medicine of this period may be further illustrated by two Latin manuscripts of the eleventh century in the Sloane collection of the British Museum.[2887] One contains a brief treatise which illustrates the common tendency at that time to employ cauterization not only for surgical purposes in connection with wounds, but as a medical means of giving relief to internal diseases and trivial complaints with which cauterization could have no connection. That the practice was very largely a superstition is further evident from the fact that one part of the body often was cauterized for a complaint in another or opposite portion or member. In the present example, under the alluring names of Apollonius and Galen as professed authors,[2888] are presented a series of human figures showing where the cautery should be applied. These pictures of naked patients marked all over their anatomy with spots where the red-hot iron should be applied, or submitting with smiling or wry faces to its actual administration in the most tender places, are both amusing and, when we reflect that this useless pain was actually repeatedly inflicted through long centuries, pathetic.[2889]

The medicine of this period can be further illustrated by two Latin manuscripts from the eleventh century in the Sloane collection of the British Museum.[2887] One contains a short treatise that highlights the common practice at that time of using cauterization not only for surgical reasons related to wounds but also as a medical method to relieve internal diseases and minor ailments to which cauterization had no real connection. The fact that this practice was mostly based on superstition is shown by the tendency to cauterize one part of the body for a complaint in another or opposite area. In this example, under the enticing names of Apollonius and Galen as supposed authors,[2888] a series of human figures illustrate where the cautery should be applied. These images of naked patients marked all over their bodies with spots indicating where the hot iron should be used, or enduring with either smiles or grimaces as it was applied to their most sensitive areas, are both amusing and, when we consider that this needless pain was inflicted repeatedly over many centuries, quite sad.[2889]

Treatment of demoniacs.

In a general and much longer work on diseases and their remedies which follows in the same manuscript and which is professedly compiled from Hippocrates, Galen, and Apollonius, the treatment prescribed for demoniacs,[2890] who, it states, are in Greek called epilemptici (epileptics), includes among[Pg 724] other things vaporization between the shoulder blades with various mixtures, scarification and bleeding, application of leeches to the “stomach where you ought not to operate with iron,”[2891] shaving and “imbrocating”[2892] the scalp, and anointing the hands and feet with oil. Both our manuscripts contain recipes for expelling or routing demons.[2893] For this purpose such substances are employed as the stone gagates and holy water, and elsewhere the usual confidence is reposed in the virtues of herbs and such parts of animals as the liver of a vulture.

In a general and much longer work on diseases and their remedies that follows in the same manuscript and is specifically compiled from Hippocrates, Galen, and Apollonius, the treatment recommended for demoniacs, who are referred to in Greek as epilemptici (epileptics), includes, among other things, vaporization between the shoulder blades with various mixtures, scarification and bleeding, applying leeches to the “stomach where you shouldn’t operate with iron,” shaving and “imbrocating” the scalp, and rubbing oil on the hands and feet. Both our manuscripts contain recipes for driving out or getting rid of demons. For this purpose, substances like the stone gagates and holy water are used, and elsewhere, there is usual trust in the properties of herbs and parts of animals like the liver of a vulture.

Incantations and characters.

In one of the manuscripts is a treatise in which much use is made of incantations and characters. There are prayers to “Lord Jesus and Holy Mary” to heal the sick, while characters, sometimes engraved upon lead plates, are employed not only for medical purposes, but to prevent women from conceiving, to make fruit trees bear well, and against enemies.[2894] Later on in the manuscript instructions for plucking a medicinal herb include facing east and reciting a paternoster.[2895]

In one of the manuscripts, there's a treatise that frequently uses incantations and symbols. It contains prayers to “Lord Jesus and Holy Mary” for healing the sick, while symbols, sometimes engraved on lead plates, are used not only for medicinal purposes but also to prevent women from getting pregnant, to help fruit trees thrive, and to fend off enemies.[2894] Later in the manuscript, the instructions for picking a medicinal herb include facing east and saying a paternoster.[2895]

In a twelfth century manuscript.

The twelfth century portion of this same manuscript consists mainly of a long medical medley with no definitely marked beginning or ending but apparently originally in five books.[2896] Towards its close occur a number of incantations and characters quite in the style of Marcellus Empiricus.[2897] Indeed, “a marvelous charm” for toothache is an exact copy of his instructions to repeat seven times in a waning moon[Pg 725] on Tuesday or Thursday an incantation beginning, “Aridam, margidam, sturgidam.”[2898] To make all his enemies fear him a man should gather the herb verbena on a Thursday, repeating seven times a formula in which the plant is personally addressed and the desire expressed to triumph over all foes as the verbena conquers winds and rains, hail and storms.[2899] If here the influence of pagan religion is still present, many of the incantations are in Christian form and expressed in the name of God or the Father. To find a thief characters are employed together with the incantation, “Abraham bound, Isaac held, Jacob brought back to the house.”[2900] A charm against fever opens, “Christ was born and suffered; Christ Jesus rose from the dead and ascended unto heaven; Christ will come at the day of judgment. Christ says, According to your faith it shall be done.” Then the sign of the cross is employed and “sacred words,” which seem, however, to include not only Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, but Maximianus, Dionysius, John, Serapion, and Constantinus. As we have to do with a twelfth century manuscript the last two names might be presumed to have reference to the medical writers of the eleventh century, but another manuscript which contains a similar incantation states that they are the names of the seven sleepers.[2901] Our charm then continues “In the name of Christ” and with a prayer to God to free from sickness anyone who “bears this writing in Thy name.”[2902]

The twelfth-century part of this same manuscript mainly features a lengthy medical compilation with no clear beginning or end but was apparently originally in five books.[2896] Toward its conclusion, there are several incantations and characters reminiscent of Marcellus Empiricus.[2897] In fact, “a marvelous charm” for toothache is a direct copy of his instructions to repeat seven times during a waning moon[Pg 725] on Tuesday or Thursday, starting with the incantation, “Aridam, margidam, sturgidam.”[2898] To make all his enemies fear him, a man should gather the herb verbena on a Thursday, repeating seven times a formula that addresses the plant directly and expresses the desire to triumph over all foes, just as verbena conquers winds, rains, hail, and storms.[2899] While the influence of pagan religion is still evident, many of the incantations are in a Christian format and are invoked in the name of God or the Father. To locate a thief, characters are used along with the incantation, “Abraham bound, Isaac held, Jacob brought back to the house.”[2900] A charm against fever begins, “Christ was born and suffered; Christ Jesus rose from the dead and ascended to heaven; Christ will come on the day of judgment. Christ says, According to your faith it shall be done.” Then the sign of the cross is used along with “sacred words,” which seem to include not just Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, but also Maximianus, Dionysius, John, Serapion, and Constantinus. Since we are dealing with a twelfth-century manuscript, the last two names might refer to medical writers of the eleventh century, but another manuscript containing a similar incantation states that they are the names of the seven sleepers.[2901] Our charm continues with “In the name of Christ” and includes a prayer to God to heal anyone who “bears this writing in Thy name.”[2902]

Magic with a split hazel rod.

In the same work occurs the earliest instance of which I am aware of the magical “experiment” with a split rod and an incantation, to which we shall hear William of Auvergne, Albertus Magnus, John of St. Amand, and Roger Bacon refer in the thirteenth century. A rod of four cubits length is to be cut with repetition of the Lord’s Prayer. It is to be split, and the two halves are to be held apart at the[Pg 726] ends by two men. Then, making the sign of the cross, one should repeat the following incantation, “Ellum sat upon ella and held a green rod in his hand and said, Rod of green reunite again,”[2903] together with the Lord’s Prayer until the two split halves bend together in the middle. One then seizes them in one’s fist at the junction point, cuts off the rest of the rods, and makes magic use of the section remaining in one’s grasp.[2904]

In the same text, we find the earliest example I know of the magical “experiment” involving a split rod and an incantation, which William of Auvergne, Albertus Magnus, John of St. Amand, and Roger Bacon refer to in the thirteenth century. A rod, four cubits long, is to be cut while repeating the Lord’s Prayer. It should be split, and two men are to hold the two halves apart at the ends.[Pg 726] Then, making the sign of the cross, one should recite the following incantation: “Ellum sat upon ella and held a green rod in his hand and said, Rod of green reunite again,”[2903] along with the Lord’s Prayer until the two split halves bend together in the middle. One then takes hold of them with one’s fist at the junction point, cuts off the remainder of the rods, and uses the section left in one’s grip for magic.[2904]

More incantations and the virtues of a vulture.

Another manuscript of the twelfth century[2905] contains many similar charms, incantations, prayers, and characters for healing purposes. One formula employed is, “Christ conquers, Christ reigns, Christ commands.” In cases of miscarriage a drink of verbena is recommended and repetition of the following incantation with three Paternosters, “Saisa, laisa, relaisa, because so Saint Mary did when she bore the Son of God.” Presently a paragraph opens with the assertion that the human race does not know how great virtue the vulture[2906] possesses and how much it improves health. But certain ceremonial directions must be observed in making use of it. The bird should be killed in the very hour in which it is caught and with a sharp reed rather than a sword. Before beheading it, one should utter an incantation containing such names as Adonai and Abraam. Various healing virtues appertain to the different parts of its carcass, although here again there are instructions to be observed. The bones of its head should be bound in hyena skin; its eyes should be suspended from the neck in wolf’s skin. Binding its wings on the left foot of a woman struggling in child-birth produces a quick delivery. One who wears its tongue will receive the adoration of all his enemies; if one has its heart bound in the skin of a lion or wolf, all demons will avoid one and robbers will only worship one. Its gall taken in quite a mixture cures epileptics[Pg 727] and lunatics; its lung in another compound cures fevers; and so on.

Another manuscript from the twelfth century [2905] contains many similar charms, incantations, prayers, and characters for healing purposes. One formula used is, “Christ conquers, Christ reigns, Christ commands.” In cases of miscarriage, a drink of verbena is recommended along with the repetition of the following incantation with three Paternosters: “Saisa, laisa, relaisa, because Saint Mary did so when she bore the Son of God.” Currently, a paragraph begins with the claim that humanity does not realize how great the virtue of the vulture [2906] is and how much it enhances health. However, certain ceremonial guidelines must be followed when using it. The bird should be killed at the exact hour it’s caught and with a sharp reed rather than a sword. Before decapitating it, one should say an incantation that includes names like Adonai and Abraam. Different parts of its body have various healing properties, although there are instructions that need to be followed. The bones of its head should be wrapped in hyena skin; its eyes should hang from the neck in wolf's skin. Tying its wings to the left foot of a woman in labor helps her deliver quickly. Whoever wears its tongue will gain the admiration of all their enemies; if someone has its heart wrapped in the skin of a lion or wolf, all demons will avoid them and robbers will only show them reverence. Its gall, mixed into a potion, cures epileptics and those with mental illness; its lung in another mixture cures fevers; and so on.

Lots of the saints.

There follow Sortes sanctorum, introduced by a page and a half of prayers of this tenor, “In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, we ask Father and Son and Holy Ghost, Three and One; we ask Saint Mary, the mother of our Lord Jesus Christ; we ask the nine orders of angels; we ask the whole chorus of patriarchs; we ask the whole chorus of apostles, martyrs, confessors, and virgins, and the whole chorus of God’s faithful that they deign to reveal to us these lots which we seek, and that no seduction of the devil may deceive us.” The treatise closes, “These are the lots of the saints which never fail; so ask God and obtain what you desire.”

There follows Sortes sanctorum, preceded by a page and a half of prayers like this: “In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, we ask the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Three in One; we ask Saint Mary, the mother of our Lord Jesus Christ; we ask the nine orders of angels; we ask the entire assembly of patriarchs; we ask the whole assembly of apostles, martyrs, confessors, and virgins, as well as all of God’s faithful, to kindly reveal to us these lots we seek, and that no temptation from the devil may mislead us.” The treatise concludes, “These are the lots of the saints that never fail; so ask God and receive what you desire.”

Superstitious veterinary and medical practice.

The next items in the manuscript are some cases of superstitious veterinary practice, with such pious incantations as “May God who saved the thief on the cross save this beast!”[2907] and with instructions concerning the religious invocations and written characters to be employed in blessing the food and salt to be given to domestic animals in order to keep them in good health. Characters are also mentioned which will prevent the blood of a pig from flowing when it is slaughtered, provided they are bound upon the breast or are written on the knife with which the pig is to be stuck.[2908] Holy water and bread that has been blessed are used for medical purposes and instructions are given on what days medicinal herbs should be gathered. The prayers employed are usually put in Christian form, but one for the cure of toothache has slipped by at least partially uncensored. It opens with the words “O lady Moon, free me....”[2909]

The next items in the manuscript include some examples of superstitious veterinary practices, featuring pious incantations like “May God who saved the thief on the cross save this beast!”[2907] and instructions on the religious invocations and written symbols to use in blessing the food and salt given to domestic animals to keep them healthy. It also mentions symbols that can stop the blood of a pig from flowing during slaughter if they are placed on the animal's chest or written on the knife used to kill it.[2908] Holy water and blessed bread are used for medicinal purposes, and there are guidelines on which days to gather medicinal herbs. The prayers are usually in Christian form, but one for curing toothache has slipped through at least partially uncensored. It begins with the words “O lady Moon, free me....”[2909]

Two Paris manuscripts.

If we turn from medical manuscripts of the eleventh and twelfth centuries in the British Museum to those of the Bibliothèque Nationale, we find the same occurrence of superstitious passages. In an eleventh century codex which contains parts of the medical work of Celsus and the De dinamidis[Pg 728] of Galen are also found prayers to God for the medicinal aid of the angel Raphael against the treacherous attacks of the demons, a work on the virtues of stones which has much to say of their marvelous properties, and figures and text concerning the twelve signs of the zodiac and twelve winds.[2910] Much more superstitious, however, is an anonymous treatise occupying the first ten leaves of a twelfth century manuscript[2911] which is apparently of German origin from the number of German words and phrases introduced near its close. This treatise is followed in the manuscript by the works of Notker, Hermann the Lame, and others on computus and the astrolabe.

If we look at medical manuscripts from the eleventh and twelfth centuries in the British Museum and compare them to those in the Bibliothèque Nationale, we see the same presence of superstitious content. In an eleventh-century codex that includes parts of Celsus's medical writings and the De dinamidis[Pg 728] of Galen, there are also prayers to God for the healing help of the angel Raphael against the deceptive attacks of demons, a work discussing the powers of stones with a lot to say about their amazing properties, and illustrations and text related to the twelve signs of the zodiac and twelve winds.[2910] However, an even more superstitious text is an anonymous treatise that fills the first ten leaves of a twelfth-century manuscript[2911] which seems to be of German origin based on the number of German words and phrases included towards the end. This treatise is followed in the manuscript by works from Notker, Hermann the Lame, and others on computus and the astrolabe.

Blood-letting.

After discussing the effect of food upon health, listing potions of herbs to be drunk in each month of the year,[2912] treating of the veins and of the four winds, four seasons, and four humors, and the relations existing between the two last-named, the author enumerates the many advantages of blood-letting in a long passage which is worth quoting in part. “It contains the beginning of health, it makes the mind sincere, it aids the memory, it purges the brain, it reforms the bladder, it warms the marrow, it opens the hearing, it checks tears, it removes nausea, it benefits the stomach, it invites digestion, it evokes the voice, it builds up the sense, it moves the bowels, it enriches sleep, it removes anxiety, it nourishes good health ...”: and so on. The operation of bleeding should not be performed on the tenth, fifteenth, twenty-fifth, or thirtieth day of the moon, nor should a potion be taken then. The Egyptian days and dog-days are to be similarly observed. The hours of the day when each humor predominates are then given.

After discussing the impact of food on health and listing herbal potions to drink each month, [2912] addressing blood vessels, the four winds, the four seasons, and the four humors, as well as the connections between the last two, the author outlines the many benefits of blood-letting in a lengthy section that's worth quoting in part. “It marks the beginning of health, it makes the mind clear, it boosts memory, it clears the mind, it improves bladder function, it warms the bones, it enhances hearing, it calms tears, it relieves nausea, it supports the stomach, it encourages digestion, it stimulates the voice, it strengthens the senses, it promotes bowel movement, it improves sleep, it reduces anxiety, it supports good health...”: and so on. The process of bleeding should not take place on the tenth, fifteenth, twenty-fifth, or thirtieth day of the moon, and no potion should be consumed then. The Egyptian days and dog days should also be observed in the same way. The times of day when each humor is most active are then provided.

[Pg 729]

[Pg 729]

Resemblances to Egerton 821.

There then is introduced rather abruptly an account of the medicinal virtues of the vulture almost identical with that in the British Museum manuscript. Once again, too, herbs are to be plucked with repetition of the Lord’s Prayer.[2913] The use of characters to prevent a slaughtered pig from bleeding is introduced somewhat otherwise than in the other manuscript. Having first recommended as a cure for human sufferers from flux of blood the binding about the abdomen of a parchment inscribed with the characters in question, the author adds, “And if you don’t believe it, write them on a knife and kill a pig with it, and you will see no blood flow from the wound.”[2914]

There is suddenly an account of the medicinal qualities of the vulture, which is almost the same as what's in the British Museum manuscript. Once again, herbs should be picked while saying the Lord’s Prayer. [2913] The way to use characters to stop a slaughtered pig from bleeding is presented a bit differently than in the other manuscript. After suggesting a remedy for people suffering from bleeding by wrapping a parchment with the specific characters around the abdomen, the author adds, “And if you don't believe it, write them on a knife and kill a pig with it, and you will see no blood flow from the wound.” [2914]

Virtues of blood.

Considerable medicinal use is made of blood in this treatise. For cataract is recommended instilling in the eye the blood which flows from a certain worm (oudehsam?) when “you cut it in two near the tail.”[2915] To break the stone one employs goat’s blood caught in a glass vessel in a waning moon and dried eight days in the sun together with the pulverized skin of a rabbit caught in a waning moon and roasted over marble. These are to be mixed in wine and given in the name of the Lord to the patient to drink while he is in the bath.[2916] Another remedy consists of three drops of the milk of a woman nursing a male child given in a raw egg to the patient without his knowledge.[2917]

Considerable medicinal use is made of blood in this document. For cataracts, it's suggested to put in the eye the blood that comes from a certain worm (oudehsam?) when “you cut it in half near the tail.”[2915] To break a stone, you use goat’s blood collected in a glass container during a waning moon and dried for eight days in the sun, combined with pulverized rabbit skin caught in a waning moon and roasted over marble. These should be mixed in wine and given to the patient in the name of the Lord while he is in the bath.[2916] Another remedy consists of three drops of milk from a woman nursing a male child, given in a raw egg to the patient without him knowing.[2917]

Pious incantations and magical procedure.

The work abounds in characters and in incantations which consist either of seemingly meaningless words or of Biblical phrases and allusions. These are very much like those in the manuscripts already considered and are often accompanied by elaborate procedure. For example, the prayer, “O Lord, spare your servant N., so that chastised with deserved stripes he may rest in your mercy,” is to be written on five holy wafers which are then to be placed on the five wounds of a figure of Christ on a crucifix. The patient is to approach barefoot, eat the wafers, and say:[Pg 730] “Almighty God, who saved all the human race, save me and free me from these fevers and from all my languors. By God Christ was announced, and Christ was born, and Christ was wrapped in swaddling clothes, and Christ was placed in a manger, and Christ was circumcised, and Christ was adored by the Magi, and Christ was baptized, and Christ was tempted, and Christ was betrayed, and Christ was flogged, and Christ was spat upon, and Christ was given gall and vinegar to drink, and Christ was pierced with a lance, and Christ was crucified, and Christ died, and Christ was buried, and Christ rose again, and Christ ascended unto heaven. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Jesus, rising from the synagogue, entered the house of Simon. Moreover, Simon’s daughter was sick with a high fever. And they entreated Him on her behalf. And standing over her He commanded the fever and it departed.”[2918] To cure epilepsy an interesting combination of scriptural incantation and rather unusual magic procedure is recommended. Before the attack comes on, the words of the Gospel of Matthew, “Jesus was led by the spirit into the desert; and angels came and ministered unto Him,” are to be written on a wooden tablet with some black substance which will wash off readily. Then, when the fit comes on, this writing is to be washed off into a vessel with still water and given to the patient to drink in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. “If you do this three times, God helping the patient will be cured.”[2919]

The work is filled with characters and incantations that consist of either seemingly random words or Biblical phrases and references. These are very similar to those in the manuscripts previously discussed and are often accompanied by detailed procedures. For example, the prayer, “O Lord, spare your servant N., so that chastised with deserved stripes he may rest in your mercy,” should be written on five holy wafers, which are then placed on the five wounds of a figure of Christ on a crucifix. The patient is to approach barefoot, eat the wafers, and say: [Pg 730] “Almighty God, who saved all of humanity, save me and free me from these fevers and from all my ailments. By God, Christ was announced, and Christ was born, and Christ was wrapped in swaddling clothes, and Christ was placed in a manger, and Christ was circumcised, and Christ was adored by the Magi, and Christ was baptized, and Christ was tempted, and Christ was betrayed, and Christ was flogged, and Christ was spat upon, and Christ was given gall and vinegar to drink, and Christ was pierced with a lance, and Christ was crucified, and Christ died, and Christ was buried, and Christ rose again, and Christ ascended to heaven. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Jesus, rising from the synagogue, entered the house of Simon. Moreover, Simon’s daughter was sick with a high fever. And they pleaded with Him on her behalf. And standing over her, He commanded the fever to leave, and it departed.” [2918] To cure epilepsy, an intriguing mix of scriptural incantation and rather unusual magical procedure is suggested. Before the attack occurs, the words from the Gospel of Matthew, “Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert; and angels came and ministered to Him,” are to be written on a wooden tablet with some black substance that can be easily washed off. Then, when the fit happens, this writing should be washed off into a container with still water and given to the patient to drink in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. “If you do this three times, with God’s help, the patient will be cured.” [2919]

More superstitious veterinary practice.

Our manuscript further resembles Egerton 821 of the British Museum in containing remedies for beast as well as man. If a horse suffers from over-eating, one should learn his name and procure some hazel rods. Then one is to whisper in his right ear an incantation consisting of outlandish words accompanied by the Lord’s Prayer, and is to bind his thighs and feet with the rods. This ceremony, too, is to be repeated thrice.[2920]

Our manuscript is also similar to Egerton 821 from the British Museum because it includes remedies for both animals and humans. If a horse overeats, you should find out its name and get some hazel rods. Then, whisper an incantation made up of strange words into its right ear, along with the Lord’s Prayer, and tie its thighs and feet with the rods. This ritual should be repeated three times.[2920]

[Pg 731]

[Pg 731]

The School of Salerno.

We now come to the consideration of treatises supposed to have been produced by the school of medicine at Salerno. But not only are the origins of the so-called School of Salerno “veiled in impenetrable obscurity,”[2921] much of its later history is scarcely less uncertain, and it is no easy matter to say what men and what writings may be properly called Salernitan, or when they lived or were composed. The manuscripts of Salernitan writings seem to have been found more frequently north of the Alps than in Italian libraries. It would perhaps be carrying scepticism too far to doubt if medicine developed much earlier or more rapidly at Salerno than elsewhere, since it seems certain that the town was famous for its physicians at an early date, and that we have medical writings of Salernitans produced in the early eleventh century. But one is inclined to view with some scepticism the assumption of historians of medicine[2922] that the word Salernitan represents a separate body of doctrine, or of method in practice, which may be sharply distinguished from Arabic medicine or from later medieval medicine as affected by Arabic influence. Rather the medical literature and practice of Salerno is an integral and[Pg 732] scarcely distinguishable part of medieval medicine as a whole. Many Salernitan treatises themselves belong to the later medieval period, and very few of them can be shown to antedate Constantinus Africanus, whose translations seem to mark the beginning of Arabic influence. And on the other hand there are equally early medieval medical treatises, such as those we have hitherto been considering, which are not Salernitan and yet show no sign of Arabic influence. Thus the word Salernitan cannot accurately be identified with a first period of medieval Latin medicine based upon early or Neo-Latin translations of Greek medical authors and upon independent medical practice. Such activity was not confined to Salerno. But if we so employ the word Salernitan for a moment, there seems no reason for thinking that such a development would be very different from the Arabic and Byzantine continuations of Greek medicine. A place so open to Saracen and Byzantine influence as the coast of southern Italy is hardly the spot where we should look for a totally distinct medical development, and the influence of Celtic and Teutonic folk-lore upon medical practice would presumably be more felt north of the Alps. And it is to Salerno that Constantinus Africanus, the earliest known importer of Arabic medicine, comes.

We now turn our attention to the writings that are thought to have originated from the medical school at Salerno. However, not only are the origins of the so-called School of Salerno “veiled in impenetrable obscurity,”[2921] but also much of its later history is hardly any clearer. It's challenging to pinpoint which individuals and which texts can rightfully be called Salernitan, or when they lived or were written. Manuscripts attributed to Salernitan works seem to appear more often north of the Alps than in Italian libraries. It might be pushing skepticism too far to question whether medicine evolved much earlier or faster in Salerno than in other places, as it seems certain that the town had a reputation for its doctors early on, and we do have medical writings from Salernitans dating back to the early eleventh century. However, there’s reason to doubt the assumption by historians of medicine[2922] that the term Salernitan signifies a distinct body of knowledge or methods that can be sharply separated from Arabic medicine or from later medieval medicine influenced by Arabic traditions. Instead, the medical literature and practices of Salerno are an integral and barely distinguishable part of medieval medicine as a whole. Many Salernitan texts belong to the later medieval period, and very few can be shown to predate Constantinus Africanus, whose translations seem to mark the beginning of Arabic influence. Conversely, there are equally early medieval medical texts that we have been considering, which are not Salernitan yet show no traces of Arabic influence. Hence, the term Salernitan cannot accurately represent an initial phase of medieval Latin medicine grounded in early or Neo-Latin translations of Greek medical authors alongside independent medical practices. Such activities weren't limited to Salerno. But if we use the term Salernitan for a moment, it seems there’s no reason to believe that this development would be significantly different from the Arabic and Byzantine continuations of Greek medicine. A location as open to Saracen and Byzantine influences as the southern Italian coast is unlikely to be the place to look for a completely distinct medical evolution, and the impact of Celtic and Teutonic folklore on medical practices would presumably be felt more strongly north of the Alps. It is to Salerno that Constantinus Africanus, the earliest known importer of Arabic medicine, goes.

Was Salernitan medicine free from superstition?

The notion, too, that the Salernitan or early medieval Latin medical practice was sound and straightforward and sensible and free from the superstition with which the holders of this opinion represent Arabic and later medieval medicine as overburdened, is also probably illusory. We have already seen evidence of rather extreme superstition in early medieval Latin medicine which shows no trace of Arabic influence, and the medical practitioners of Salerno are sometimes represented in the sources as empiricists or old-wives. The place was peculiarly noted for its female practitioners, of whom more anon; and one of the earliest mentions of a physician of Salerno is the account in Richer’s[Pg 733] chronicle[2923] of the mutual poisoning of two rival physicians in 946 A. D. Here the Salernitan is described as lacking in Latin book-knowledge and skilful from natural talent and much experience. He was the queen’s favorite physician, but was worsted by another royal physician, Bishop Deroldus, in a debate which the king, Louis IV, instituted in order to find out “which of them knew more of the natures of things.” The defeated Salernitan then “prepared sorcery” and tried to poison the bishop, who cured himself with theriac and secretly poisoned his rival in turn. The Salernitan was then reduced to the humiliating position of being forced to beseech the prelate to cure him, but in his case the theriac only drove the poison into his foot, which had to be amputated by a surgeon. This tale, be it true or not, suggests that there were good Latin physicians and surgeons outside of Salerno at an early date as well as that Salernitan medicine was far from being free from magic and empiricism.

The idea that Salernitan or early medieval Latin medical practices were completely sensible and straightforward, without the superstitions that some believe burdened Arabic and later medieval medicine, is likely misleading. We've already seen evidence of considerable superstition in early medieval Latin medicine that shows no signs of Arabic influence, and sources sometimes depict Salernitan practitioners as empiricists or old wives. The place was especially known for its female practitioners, about which we’ll discuss more later; one of the earliest mentions of a Salernitan physician appears in Richer’s[Pg 733] chronicle, detailing the mutual poisoning of two rival physicians in 946 A.D. Here, the Salernitan is described as lacking formal Latin knowledge but skilled due to natural talent and extensive experience. He was favored by the queen but was outmatched by another royal physician, Bishop Deroldus, in a debate initiated by King Louis IV to determine “which of them knew more about the nature of things.” The defeated Salernitan then “prepared sorcery” and attempted to poison the bishop, who managed to cure himself with theriac and secretly poisoned his rival in return. The Salernitan was ultimately reduced to the humiliating position of having to ask the bishop to heal him, but in his case, the theriac only drove the poison into his foot, leading to its amputation by a surgeon. This story, whether true or not, suggests that there were skilled Latin physicians and surgeons outside of Salerno early on, and that Salernitan medicine was far from free of magic and empiricism.

The Practica of Petrocellus.

It is fairer, however, to judge Salerno by its own best written productions rather than by the stories of perhaps jealous northerners, and we may note Payne’s comparison of the Practica of Petrocellus,[2924] written probably in the early eleventh century, with the earlier Leech-Book of Bald and Cild. Selected recipes, it may first be said, were translated from the Practica into Anglo-Saxon.[2925] Dr. Payne was impressed by “the complete freedom of the former from the magic and superstition which tainted the Anglo-Saxon and[Pg 734] all other European medicine of the time.” Payne noted that the compounds of Petrocellus contained fewer ingredients, and regarded the Salernitan selection of drugs as “more intelligent.” The Salernitan formulae are “clear, simple, and written on a uniform system which implies traditional skill and culture.”[2926] “The pharmacy is generally very simple; and, as might be expected, there is an entire absence of charms and superstitious rites.”[2927] Such simplicity, however, is at best a negative sort of virtue; and we wonder if this early specimen of the School of Salerno is free from elaborate superstition for the very reason that the work is simple and elementary. The less medicine, the less superstition perhaps. Moreover, superstition is not quite absent, since Payne himself quotes the following recipe: “For those who cannot see from sunrise to sunset.... This is the leechcraft which thereto belongeth. Take a kneecap of a buck[2928] and roast it, and, when the roast sweats, then take the sweat and therewith smear the eyes, and after that let him eat the same roast; and then take fresh asses’ dung and squeeze it, and smear the eyes therewith, and it will soon be better with them.”[2929]

It’s fairer to judge Salerno by its best written works rather than by the stories of possibly jealous northerners. We can refer to Payne’s comparison of the Practica by Petrocellus, likely written in the early eleventh century, with the earlier Leech-Book of Bald and Cild. To start, selected recipes were translated from the Practica into Anglo-Saxon. Dr. Payne was struck by “the complete freedom of the former from the magic and superstition that tainted the Anglo-Saxon and[Pg 734] all other European medicine of the time.” He noted that Petrocellus's compounds had fewer ingredients and considered the Salernitan selection of drugs to be “more intelligent.” The Salernitan formulations are “clear, simple, and written in a uniform system that implies traditional skill and culture.” “The pharmacy is generally very straightforward; and, as expected, there is a total absence of charms and superstitious rituals.” Such simplicity, though, is at best a negative virtue; and we question whether this early example from the School of Salerno is devoid of elaborate superstition precisely because the work is simple and basic. Less medicine might mean less superstition. However, superstition is not completely absent, as Payne himself cites the following recipe: “For those who cannot see from sunrise to sunset.... This is the leechcraft that pertains to it. Take a kneecap of a buck and roast it, and when the roast sweats, take the sweat and smear it on the eyes, and after that, let him eat the same roast; then take fresh donkey dung, squeeze it, and smear it on the eyes, and it will soon improve their condition.”

Its sources.

Petrocellus is thought to have used Greek writings directly without the intermediary of Arabic versions.[2930] He says in the introductory letter which opens the Practica that he reduces to brief form in the Latin language those “authors who have culled the dogmas of all cases from Greek places.”[2931] But these words might be taken to indicate that he has used Greek sources only indirectly, while the fact that the person to whom the work is addressed is called “dearest son” and “sweetest son” is rather in the style of Arabian and Hebrew medieval writers. He goes on to[Pg 735] assure this person that everything in the work has been tested by experience and that nothing should be added to or subtracted from it.

Petrocellus is believed to have used Greek texts directly without relying on Arabic translations. He mentions in the introductory letter of the Practica that he condenses the works of those “authors who have gathered the principles of all cases from Greek texts.” But these words might suggest that he used Greek sources indirectly, while the affectionate terms he uses for the person addressed, calling him “dearest son” and “sweetest son,” are more in line with the style of medieval Arabian and Hebrew writers. He goes on to[Pg 735] assure this individual that everything in the work has been tested through experience and that nothing should be added or removed.

Fourfold origin of medicine.

This introductory epistle also embodies an account of the origin of medicine which, while not exactly superstitious, is quite in the usual naïve and uncritical style so often employed by both ancient and medieval writers in treating of a distant past. Apollo and his son Esculapius, Asclepius and “Ypocras” are named as the four founders of the medical art. Apollo discovered methoyca, which presumably means methodism, but which Petrocellus proceeds to identify with surgery. Esculapius invented empirica, which is described as pharmacy rather than empiricism, although perhaps the distinction is slight. Asclepius founded loyca, which is probably meant for the dogmatic school. Hippocrates’ contribution was theoperica, which may mean therapeutics but is further described as the prognostication or “prevision of diseases.” It is in this same introductory epistle that Petrocellus makes the division of the brain into three cells of which we spoke in the chapter on Arabic occult science. Besides distinguishing the three cells as phantastic, logical, and mnemonic, he adds that good and evil are distinguished in the middle cell and that the soul is in the posterior one.

This introductory letter also provides a story about the origins of medicine that, while not exactly superstitious, reflects the typical naive and uncritical approach often used by both ancient and medieval writers when discussing a distant past. Apollo and his son Esculapius, along with Asclepius and "Hippocrates," are named as the four founders of the medical field. Apollo discovered methoyca, which likely refers to methodism, but Petrocellus goes on to identify it with surgery. Esculapius developed empirica, described as pharmacy instead of empiricism, although the difference is probably minor. Asclepius established loyca, presumably intended for the dogmatic school. Hippocrates’ contribution was theoperica, which may mean therapeutics but is further characterized as the forecasting or “prevision of diseases.” It is in this same introductory letter that Petrocellus divides the brain into three cells, as we mentioned in the chapter on Arabic occult science. Besides identifying the three cells as phantastic, logical, and mnemonic, he notes that good and evil are differentiated in the middle cell and that the soul resides in the posterior one.

Therapeutics of Petrocellus.

In the Practica proper the method of Petrocellus is to take up one disease at a time, tell what the Greeks call it, and briefly describe it, sometimes listing its symptoms or causes, but devoting most of his space to such methods of curing it as diet and bleeding, simples and compounds. I saw no instance of astrological medicine nor of resort to amulets and incantations in the version published by Renzi from a twelfth century manuscript at Paris. But in a fragment of the work from a Milan manuscript where twenty-six lines are devoted to the treatment of epilepsy instead of but seven as in the other text,[2932] one is advised to use antimony in the holy water “which the Greeks bless on[Pg 736] Epiphany” and to chant the Lord’s Prayer three times. If this passage be a later addition, it shows that Petrocellus was less inclined to superstitious methods than others and that his injunction that nothing should be subtracted from or added to his work was not well observed. But in any case it illustrates my previous point that the more medicine, the more superstition. In twenty-six lines on epilepsy one is much more likely to find something superstitious than in seven. Indeed, the treatment of epilepsy was so generally superstitious that my recollection is that any account of it of any considerable length which I have seen in medieval writings contained some superstition. In fact, even if Petrocellus wrote the longer passage, he could be praised for having resorted to charms and formulae only in the case of that mysterious disease.

In the Practica, Petrocellus explains one disease at a time, names what the Greeks call it, and gives a brief description, sometimes listing symptoms or causes, but spending most of his space on treatment methods like diet and bleeding, herbal remedies, and mixtures. In the version published by Renzi from a twelfth-century manuscript in Paris, I didn't see any examples of astrological medicine or the use of amulets and incantations. However, in a fragment from a Milan manuscript where twenty-six lines focus on treating epilepsy instead of just seven as in the other text, it suggests adding antimony to the holy water “that the Greeks bless on[Pg 736] Epiphany” and chanting the Lord’s Prayer three times. If this part is a later addition, it implies that Petrocellus was less inclined toward superstitious methods than others, and that his instruction to neither subtract from nor add to his work wasn't followed. But in any case, it supports my earlier point that more medicine tends to mean more superstition. In twenty-six lines about epilepsy, it's much more likely to find something superstitious than in seven. Indeed, the treatment of epilepsy was so filled with superstition that I remember any substantial account I've seen in medieval texts included some. In fact, even if Petrocellus wrote the longer section, he could be commended for using charms and formulas only for that mysterious disease.

The Regimen Salernitanum.

The work most generally known as a characteristic product of the School of Salerno is the Latin poem[2933] which opens with the line, “To the King of the English writes the whole School of Salerno.”[2934] This poem has been variously entitled Schola Salernitana, Regimen Salernitanum, and Flos medicinae. How much more influential and widespread it was than the Practica of Petrocellus may be seen from the fact that manuscripts of the text of the latter are rare, though the introductory letter is more common, and that it was first published by Renzi in the nineteenth century, whereas about one hundred manuscripts and two hundred and fifty printed editions of the poem have been found. It was known chiefly through the brief version of 362 verses, upon which Arnald of Villanova commented at the close of the thirteenth century, until as a result of the researches of Baudry de Balzac, Renzi, and Daremberg the number of lines was increased to 3526. This patchwork from many manuscripts can scarcely[Pg 737] be regarded as the work of any one author, time, or even school, and it may be seriously questioned how many of the verses really emanated from Salerno. Certainly it is not free from Arabic influence, since it cites Alfraganus as well as Ptolemy.[2935] Pliny is used a great deal for the virtues of herbs. Much of it sounds like a late versification of commonplaces for mnemonic purposes. Sudhoff has recently pointed out that it was not generally known until the middle of the thirteenth century, before which time Frederick II, the cultured monarch, and Giles de Corbeil, the medical poet, appear unaware of its existence.[2936]

The work most commonly recognized as a key product of the School of Salerno is the Latin poem [2933] that starts with the line, “To the King of the English writes the whole School of Salerno.” [2934] This poem has been referred to variously as Schola Salernitana, Regimen Salernitanum, and Flos medicinae. Its influence and reach were far greater than that of Petrocellus's Practica, as evidenced by the rarity of manuscripts of the latter text, while the introductory letter is more common, and it was first published by Renzi in the nineteenth century. In contrast, around one hundred manuscripts and two hundred and fifty printed editions of the poem have been discovered. It was primarily known through a shorter version of 362 verses, which Arnald of Villanova commented on at the end of the thirteenth century, until research by Baudry de Balzac, Renzi, and Daremberg expanded it to 3526 lines. This compilation from various manuscripts can hardly be seen as the work of any single author, era, or even school, and it's worth questioning how many of the verses truly originated from Salerno. It's certainly not devoid of Arabic influence, as it cites both Alfraganus and Ptolemy.[2935] Pliny is frequently referenced for the properties of herbs. Much of it resembles a later adaptation of common knowledge for memory aids. Sudhoff recently highlighted that it wasn't widely known until the mid-thirteenth century, during which Frederick II, the educated ruler, and Giles de Corbeil, the medical poet, seem unaware of its existence.[2936]

Its superstition.

The brief version of the poem commented upon by Arnald of Villanova naturally contains only one-tenth of the superstition found in the fuller text which is ten times longer. In some respects this brief version might pass as a restrained, though quaint, early set of directions how to preserve health, to which later writers have added superstitious recipes. But as a matter of fact it is too superstitious for even one as hospitable to theories of occult influence as Arnald, who rejects as false and worthless[2937] its assertion that the months of April, May, and September are lunar and that in them consequently fall the days upon which bleeding is prohibited. In the lines upon which Arnald comments marvelous properties are mentioned in the case of the plant rue, but the fuller text has many mentions of the occult virtues of herbs, stones, and animals. Almost at a glance we read that the urine of a dog or the blood of a mouse cures warts; that juice of betony should be gathered on the eve of St. John the Baptist, that rubbing the soles of the feet cures a stiff neck, and that pearls or the stone found in a crab’s head are of equal virtue for heart trouble.[2938] And not far away is a passage[2939] on the virtue of the Agnus Dei,[Pg 738] made of balsam, pure wax, and the Chrism. It protects against lightning and the waves of the sea, aids women in child-birth, saves from sudden death, and in short from “every kind of evil.” Astrology is by no means omitted from the Regimen Salernitanum; in fact Balzac seems to have taken the fact that verses were astrological in character as a sign that they belonged in the Salernitan collection.

The shorter version of the poem commented on by Arnald of Villanova contains only one-tenth of the superstition found in the longer text, which is ten times as extensive. In some ways, this brief version could be seen as a more limited, though still charming, early guide on how to maintain health, to which later writers have added superstitious remedies. However, it’s actually too superstitious for someone as open to the ideas of occult influence as Arnald, who dismisses as false and worthless its claim that the months of April, May, and September are lunar and that on those days, bleeding is not allowed. In the lines Arnald comments on, remarkable properties of the plant rue are mentioned, but the longer text includes many references to the mystical qualities of herbs, stones, and animals. Almost instantly, we read that dog urine or mouse blood can cure warts; that betony juice should be picked on the eve of St. John the Baptist; that rubbing the soles of the feet can relieve a stiff neck; and that pearls or the stone found in a crab’s head can help with heart issues. Nearby is a section on the power of the Agnus Dei, made of balsam, pure wax, and Chrism. It protects against lightning and the sea's waves, helps women in childbirth, saves from sudden death, and generally protects from “every kind of evil.” Astrology is definitely included in the Regimen Salernitanum; in fact, Balzac seems to have perceived the astrological nature of the verses as evidence that they were part of the Salernitan collection.

The Practica of Archimatthaeus.

A third work which may be considered as an example of the medicine of Salerno is the Practica of Archimatthaeus which Renzi placed in the twelfth century and conjectured to be the work of Matthaeus Platearius the Elder.[2940] One or two expressions, however, might be taken as indications that the writer is neither of early date nor himself a Salernitan. He speaks of curing pleurisy in a different way from the treatment recommended in the Practica’s and tells how the Salernitans try to prevent their hair from falling out by reason of their pores opening too wide when they frequent the bath.[2941] Renzi hailed this treatise with delight as “a true medical clinic,”[2942] since the author describes some twenty-two specific cases. He states at the beginning that he does not propose to write a systematic treatise or to deal with every variety of disease, but only with those in which he has learned new and better methods by experience, “and in which God has put the desired effect in my hand.”[2943] Through the work we encounter such phrases as expertum est, aliud probatissimum, “I tell you what I have proved,” “We have tested this by experience and rejoiced at the result.” These utterances seem really to refer to the writer’s own experience and not to be copied from previous authors. The following is an example of his cases. “A certain lady incurred paralysis of the face during sleep after the bath,” which he attributes to dissolution of humors which affected the muscles. First he bled the cephalic vein, hoping thereby to draw off somewhat the humors from the afflicted place.[Pg 739] Then for three successive days he gave her “the potion of St. Paul with wine of a decoction of salvia and castoria which in part prevent dissolution, in part consume it.” He also had her hold that wine in her mouth for a long time before swallowing it. At length he gave her a purgative with pills of yerapiga (sacrum amarum), mixed with golden pills. “Afterwards we injected pills of diacastoria into her nostrils and placed her near the fire. Finally we gave opopira (bread free from furfure) with the aforesaid wine, and so she was cured, only a certain tumor remained in her face and made her eye water. We anointed her face with golden unguent and the potion of St. Paul mixed together and the tumor disappeared; for the tears we gave golden Alexandrina and they were checked; and thus it was that this year in your presence we cured a certain paralytic.”[2944] Like Galen’s accounts of his actual cases this makes us realize that all the gruesome mixtures of which we read in the books were actually forced upon patients, often several of them upon one poor sick person, and that medical practice was rather worse than medical theory. An interesting observation concerning the lot of the lower classes is let fall by our author when, in discussing involuntary emission of urine, he states that serfs and handmaids are especially subject to this ailment, since they go about ill-clad and with bare feet and become thoroughly chilled.[2945]

A third work that can be seen as an example of the medicine from Salerno is the Practica by Archimatthaeus, which Renzi dated to the twelfth century and suggested was by Matthaeus Platearius the Elder.[2940] However, one or two phrases might indicate that the writer is neither from an early period nor actually from Salerno. He describes treating pleurisy differently from the methods recommended in the Practica and explains how the Salernitans try to prevent hair loss because their pores open too wide when they frequently use the bath.[2941] Renzi greeted this treatise enthusiastically as “a true medical clinic,”[2942] since the author outlines about twenty-two specific cases. He mentions at the start that he doesn’t aim to write a systematic guide or cover every type of disease, but only those where he has learned better methods through experience, “and in which God has granted the desired outcome in my hands.”[2943] Throughout the work, we find phrases like expertum est, aliud probatissimum, “I tell you what I have proved,” “We have tested this through experience and rejoiced at the outcome.” These statements seem to refer to the writer’s personal experiences rather than being copied from earlier authors. Here’s one example of his cases: “A certain lady experienced facial paralysis during sleep after the bath,” which he attributes to the dissolution of humors affecting the muscles. First, he bled the cephalic vein, hoping to draw out some of the humors from the affected area.[Pg 739] Then, for three consecutive days, he administered “the potion of St. Paul with wine made from a decoction of sage and castoria, which prevents dissolution in part and aids in consuming it.” He also had her hold that wine in her mouth for a long time before swallowing it. Eventually, he gave her a purgative with pills of yerapiga (sacrum amarum), mixed with golden pills. “Afterward, we injected diacastoria pills into her nostrils and placed her near the fire. Finally, we gave her opopira (bread free from bran) with the previous wine, and she was cured, although a certain tumor remained on her face, causing her eye to water. We applied a mixture of golden ointment and the potion of St. Paul to her face, and the tumor disappeared; for the tears, we provided golden Alexandrina, which stopped them; and thus it was that this year in your presence we cured a certain paralytic.”[2944] Like Galen’s accounts of his actual cases, this makes us aware that all the gruesome mixtures we read about in books were often forced on patients, frequently multiple treatments for one unfortunate individual, suggesting that medical practice was actually harsher than medical theory. An interesting note on the struggles of the lower classes is made by our author when he mentions that serfs and handmaids are particularly prone to involuntary urine emission, as they tend to be poorly dressed and go around barefoot, making them easily chilled.[2945]

A Salernitan treatise of about 1200.

Giacosa classed one of the treatises which he published as Salernitan because it was written in a Lombard or Monte Cassino hand of about 1200.[2946] He described its contents as purely therapeutical and regarded its author as showing “a certain repugnance” to the popular remedies and superstitions recommended by other contemporary treatises. For[Pg 740] this conclusion the chief evidence seems to be a passage where the author, after listing such means to prevent a woman from conceiving as binding her head with a red ribbon or holding the stone found in the head of an ass, says that he thinks that such remedies “operate more by faith than reason.”[2947] But he makes much use of parts of animals and of suffumigations, advising for example on the same page that after conception there should be fumigation with a root of mandragora or peony or the excrement of an ass mixed with flour, an operation which he characterizes as expertissimum. And on the preceding page, as Giacosa has noted, he recommends a procedure which is even more improbable than it is immoral, whereby patients who show themselves ungrateful to the physician after they have been cured may be made to suffer again.[2948]

Giacosa classified one of the treatises he published as Salernitan because it was written in a Lombard or Monte Cassino style around 1200.[2946] He described its content as strictly therapeutic and viewed its author as having “a certain aversion” to the common remedies and superstitions recommended by other contemporary works. For[Pg 740] this conclusion, the main evidence seems to be a passage where the author, after listing methods to prevent a woman from getting pregnant such as tying a red ribbon around her head or holding the stone found in a donkey's head, states that he believes such remedies “work more by faith than reason.”[2947] However, he extensively uses parts of animals and fumigations, advising, for instance, on the same page that after conception, there should be fumigation with a root of mandrake or peony, or donkey dung mixed with flour, a process he describes as expertissimum. And on the page before, as Giacosa noted, he recommends a procedure that is even more unbelievable than it is immoral, where patients who have shown ingratitude to the physician after being cured can be made to suffer again.[2948]

The wives of Salerno.

We promised to say something of the female practitioners of Salerno. Trotula is no longer believed to be a woman and we have to judge the women of Salerno mainly by what others say of them. In a commentary of a Master Bernard of Provence, who I suspect may be Bernard Gordon, the medical writer at Montpellier of the closing thirteenth century, are a number of practices attributed to the women of Salerno which Renzi has already brought together.[2949] In these cases the practices are chiefly those employed by the women themselves in child-birth. We may note three from the list that savor strongly of magic. “The women of Salerno cook doves with the acorns which the doves eat; then they remove the acorns from the gizzard and eat them, whence the retentive virtue is much comforted.” “When the women of Salerno fear abortion, they carry with them the pregnant stone,” which our author explains is not the magnet. The other recipe had perhaps better remain untranslated: Stercus asini comedunt mulieres Salernitanae in crispellis et dant viris suis ut melius retineant sperma et sic concipiant. As we shall see in our chapter on[Pg 741] Arnald of Villanova, another medical writer of the late thirteenth and early fourteenth century, he condemned the use of incantations in cases of child-birth by old-wives of Salerno but approved of a very similar procedure by which a priest had cured him of warts, and also mentioned favorably the cures wrought by female practitioners at Rome and Montpellier.

We promised to talk about the female practitioners of Salerno. Trotula is no longer considered a woman, and we mainly have to judge the women of Salerno based on what others say about them. In a commentary by Master Bernard of Provence, who I suspect might be Bernard Gordon, the medical writer from Montpellier in the late thirteenth century, there are various practices attributed to the women of Salerno that Renzi has already compiled. In these cases, the practices are mostly those used by the women themselves during childbirth. We can highlight three from the list that have a strong hint of magic. “The women of Salerno cook doves with the acorns that the doves eat; then they take the acorns from the gizzard and eat them, which greatly comforts the retentive virtue.” “When the women of Salerno fear abortion, they carry with them the pregnant stone,” which our author clarifies is not a magnet. The other recipe might be better left untranslated: Stercus asini comedunt mulieres Salernitanae in crispellis et dant viris suis ut melius retineant sperma et sic concipiant. As we will see in our chapter on[Pg 741] Arnald of Villanova, another medical writer from the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, he condemned the use of incantations during childbirth by old wives of Salerno but supported a very similar method by which a priest had cured him of warts, and also praised the cures performed by female practitioners in Rome and Montpellier.


[Pg 742]

[Pg 742]

CHAPTER XXXII
CONSTANTINUS AFRICANUS: C. 1015-1087.

Reputation and influence—His studies in the Orient—His later life in Italy—His works were mainly translations—PantegniViaticum—Other translations—The book of degreesOn melancholyOn disorders of the stomach—Medical works ascribed to Alfanus—Constantinus and experiment—“Experiments” involving incantations—Superstition comparatively rare in Constantinus—And of Greek rather than Arabic origin—Some signs of astrology and alchemy—Constantinus and the School of Salerno—Liber aureus and John Afflacius—Afflacius more superstitious than his master.

Reputation and influence—His studies in the East—His later life in Italy—His works were mainly translations—PantegniViaticum—Other translations—The Book of DegreesOn MelancholyOn Disorders of the Stomach—Medical works attributed to Alfanus—Constantinus and experimentation—“Experiments” involving incantations—Superstition is relatively rare in Constantinus—And of Greek rather than Arabic origin—Some signs of astrology and alchemy—Constantinus and the School of Salerno—Liber Aureus and John Afflacius—Afflacius is more superstitious than his master.

Reputation and influence.

Constantinus Africanus will be here considered at perhaps greater length than his connection with the history either of magic or experimental science requires, but which his general importance in the history of medicine and the lack of any good treatment of him in English may justify.[2950][Pg 743] Our discussion of him as an importer of Arabic medicine will also serve to support our attitude towards the School of Salerno. Daremberg wrote in 1853, “We owe a great debt of gratitude to Constantinus because he thus opened for Latin lands the treasures of the east and consequently those of Greece. He has received and he deserves from every point of view the title of restorer of medical literature in the west.”[2951] Daremberg proceeded to propose that a statue of Constantinus be erected in the center of the Gulf of Salerno or on the summit of Monte Cassino. Yet in 1870 he made the surprising assertion that “the voice of Constantinus towards the close of the eleventh century is an isolated voice and almost without an echo.”[2952] But as a matter of fact Constantinus was a much cited authority during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries in the works both of medicine and of natural science produced in Latin in western Europe, and his translations were cited under his own name rather than those of their original authors.[2953]

Constantinus Africanus will be discussed here in more detail than his connection to the history of magic or experimental science might warrant, but his overall significance in the history of medicine and the absence of good coverage about him in English justify this. [Pg 743] Our examination of him as a bringer of Arabic medicine will also help support our stance on the School of Salerno. Daremberg wrote in 1853, “We owe a great debt of gratitude to Constantinus for opening up the treasures of the east and, consequently, those of Greece to the Latin world. He has earned and deserves the title of restorer of medical literature in the west from every perspective.” Daremberg suggested that a statue of Constantinus should be erected in the center of the Gulf of Salerno or on top of Monte Cassino. However, in 1870, he made the surprising claim that “the voice of Constantinus towards the end of the eleventh century is an isolated voice, almost without echo.” But in reality, Constantinus was frequently cited as an authority during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries in works of both medicine and natural science produced in Latin in western Europe, and his translations were referred to by his name rather than that of their original authors.

His studies in the Orient.

A brief sketch of Constantinus’ career and a list of his works[2954] is twice supplied us by Peter the Deacon, who wrote in the next century,[2955] and who treats of Constantinus both in the chronicle of Monte Cassino, which he continued to the year 1138,[2956] and in his work on the illustrious men of Monte Cassino.[2957] Peter tells that Constantinus was born[Pg 744] at Carthage, by which he probably means Tunis, since Carthage was no longer in existence, but went to Babylon, by which Cairo is presumably designated, since Babylon had ages before been reduced to a dust heap,[2958] to improve his education. His birth must have been in about 1015. There he is said to have studied grammar, dialectic, geometry, arithmetic, “mathematics,” astronomy, and physics or medicine (physica). To this curriculum in the Chronicle Peter adds in the Lives of Illustrious Men the subjects of music and necromancy. When so little was said of spirits in the occult science of the Arabic authors of the ninth century whom we considered in an earlier chapter, it is rather a surprise to hear that Constantinus studied necromancy, but that subject is listed along with mathematical and natural sciences by Al-Farabi in his De ortu scientiarum,[2959] and we shall find this classification reproduced by two western Christian scholars of the twelfth century.[2960] The mathematica and astronomy which Constantinus studied very likely also included considerable astrology and divination. At any rate we are told that he not only pursued his studies among “the Chaldeans, Arabs, Persians, and Saracens,” and was fully imbued with “all the arts of the Egyptians,” but even, like Apollonius of Tyana, visited India and Ethiopia in his quest for learning. It was only after a lapse of thirty-nine or forty years that he returned to North Africa. Most modern secondary accounts here state that Constantinus was soon forced to flee from North Africa because of the jealousy of other physicians who accused him of magic,[2961] or from fear that his fellow citizens would kill him as a wizard.[Pg 745] In view of his study of necromancy, this may well have been the case. Peter the Deacon, however, simply states that when the Africans saw him so fully instructed in the studies of all nations, they plotted to kill him,[2962] and gives no further indication of their motives.

A brief overview of Constantinus' career and a list of his works[2954] is provided to us twice by Peter the Deacon, who wrote in the next century,[2955] and who discusses Constantinus both in the chronicle of Monte Cassino, which he continued until 1138,[2956] and in his work on the notable men of Monte Cassino.[2957] Peter mentions that Constantinus was born[Pg 744] in Carthage, which likely refers to Tunis, since Carthage was no longer in existence. He then traveled to Babylon, presumably referring to Cairo, because Babylon had long ago been reduced to ruins,[2958] to enhance his education. He was born around 1015. He is said to have studied grammar, dialectic, geometry, arithmetic, "mathematics," astronomy, and physics or medicine (physica). In the Chronicle, Peter adds music and necromancy to this curriculum in the Lives of Illustrious Men. Given how little was mentioned about spirits in the occult works of the Arabic authors from the ninth century discussed in an earlier chapter, it is surprising to learn that Constantinus studied necromancy; however, this subject appears alongside mathematical and natural sciences in Al-Farabi's De ortu scientiarum,[2959] and we will see this classification reflected by two Western Christian scholars from the twelfth century.[2960] The mathematica and astronomy that Constantinus studied likely also encompassed significant aspects of astrology and divination. In any case, it is stated that he not only studied among "the Chaldeans, Arabs, Persians, and Saracens," and was well-versed in "all the arts of the Egyptians," but also, like Apollonius of Tyana, visited India and Ethiopia in his pursuit of knowledge. It was only after thirty-nine or forty years that he returned to North Africa. Most modern secondary accounts suggest that Constantinus was soon forced to flee North Africa due to the jealousy of other physicians who accused him of magic,[2961] or from fear that his fellow citizens would kill him as a wizard.[Pg 745] Considering his study of necromancy, this might very well have been the case. However, Peter the Deacon simply states that when the Africans saw he was so thoroughly educated in the studies of all nations, they plotted to kill him,[2962] without providing any further details about their reasons.

His later life in Italy.

Constantinus secretly boarded ship and made his escape to Salerno, where he lived for some time in poverty, until a brother of the caliph (regis Babiloniorum) who chanced to come there recognized him, after which he was held in great honor by Duke Robert Guiscard. The secondary accounts say that he became Robert’s confidential secretary and that he had previously occupied a similar position under the Byzantine emperor, Constantine Monomachos,[2963] but of these matters again Peter the Deacon is silent. When Constantinus left the Norman court, it was to become a monk at Monte Cassino, where he remained until his death in 1087.[Pg 746] In a work addressed to the archbishop of Salerno he speaks of himself as Constantinus Africanus Cassinensis[2964] and Albertus Magnus cites him as Constantinus Cassianensis.[2965] What purports to be a picture of Constantinus is preserved in a manuscript of the fifteenth century at Oxford.[2966]

Constantinus secretly boarded a ship and escaped to Salerno, where he lived in poverty for a while, until a brother of the caliph (regis Babiloniorum) happened to recognize him. After that, he was held in high regard by Duke Robert Guiscard. According to secondary accounts, he became Robert’s private secretary and had previously held a similar role under the Byzantine emperor, Constantine Monomachos, but Peter the Deacon remains silent on these matters. When Constantinus left the Norman court, he went on to become a monk at Monte Cassino, where he stayed until his death in 1087.[Pg 746] In a work addressed to the archbishop of Salerno, he refers to himself as Constantinus Africanus Cassinensis and Albertus Magnus cites him as Constantinus Cassianensis. A manuscript from the fifteenth century at Oxford claims to have a picture of Constantinus.

His works were mainly translations.

Peter the Deacon states both in the Chronicle and in the Illustrious Men that while at the monastery of Monte Cassino Constantinus Africanus “translated a great number of books from the languages of various peoples.” Peter then lists the chief of these. It is interesting to note, in view of the fact that Constantinus in prefaces and introductions appears to claim some of the works as his own, and that he was accused of fraud and plagiarism by medieval writers who followed him as well as by modern investigators, that Peter the Deacon speaks of all his writings as translations from other languages. Peter does not, however, give us much information as to who the Greek or Arabic authorities were whom Constantine translated. It may be added that if Constantinus claimed for himself the credit for Latin versions which were essentially translations, he was merely continuing a practice of which Arabic authors themselves had been repeatedly guilty. Indeed, we are told that they sometimes even destroyed earlier works which they had copied in order to receive sole credit for ideas which were not their own.[2967]

Peter the Deacon mentions in both the Chronicle and the Illustrious Men that while at the Monte Cassino monastery, Constantinus Africanus "translated a large number of books from the languages of various people." Peter then lists the main ones. It's interesting to note, given that Constantinus seems to claim some of the works as his own in his prefaces and introductions, and that he was accused of fraud and plagiarism by medieval writers and modern researchers, that Peter the Deacon refers to all his writings as translations from other languages. However, Peter does not provide much information about the Greek or Arabic sources that Constantine translated. It's worth mentioning that if Constantinus took credit for Latin versions that were basically translations, he was just following a practice that Arabic authors had often been guilty of as well. In fact, it is reported that they sometimes even destroyed earlier works they had copied to claim sole credit for ideas that weren't theirs.[2967]

Pantegni.

The longest of Constantinus’ translations and the one most often cited in the middle ages was the Pantechni or Pantegni, comprising ten books of theory and ten of practice[Pg 747] as printed in 1515 with the works of Isaac,[2968] although Peter the Deacon speaks of Constantinus’ dividing the Pantegni into twelve books and then of a Practica which also consisted of twelve books. What is the ninth book of the Practica in this printed version is listed as a separate book on surgery by Peter in his Illustrious Men, although omitted from his list in the Chronicle, and was so printed in the 1536 edition of the works of Constantinus.[2969] And the Antidotarium which Peter lists as a separate title is probably simply the tenth book of the Practica as printed with the works of Isaac.[2970] The Pantegni, however, is not a translation of any work by Isaac, but an adaptation of the Khitaab el Maleki, or Royal Art of Medicine, of Ali Ibn Abbas. The preface of Constantinus[2971] says nothing of Ali but tells the abbot Desiderius that, failing to find in the many works of the Latins or even in “our own writers, ancient and modern,” such as Hippocrates, Galen, Oribasius, Paulus, and Alexander, exactly the sort of treatise desired, he has composed “this little work of our own” (hoc nostrum opusculum). But Stephen of Pisa, who also translated Ali into Latin in 1127,[2972] accused Constantinus of having suppressed both the author’s name and title of the book and of having made many omissions and changes of order both in preface and text but without really adding any new contributions of his own.[2973] Stephen further justified his own translation by asserting that not only had the first part of The Royal Art of Medicine of Ali Ibn Abbas been “corrupted by the shrewd fraud of its translator,” but also that the last and greater portion was missing in the version by[Pg 748] Constantinus.[2974] Also Ferrarius said in his gloss to the Universal Diets of Isaac that Constantinus had completed the translation of only three books of the Practica, losing the rest in a shipwreck.[2975] A third medieval writer, Giraldus Bituricensis, adds[2976] that Constantinus substituted in its place the Liber simplicis medicinae and Liber graduum, and that it was Stephen of Pisa who translated the remainder of the work of Ali ben Abbas which is called the Practica Pantegni et Stephanonis. Stephen’s translation is indeed different from the ten books of the Practica printed with the works of Isaac. From these facts and from an examination of the manuscripts of the Practica Rose concluded[2977] that Constantinus wrote only its first two books[2978] and the first part of the ninth, which is roughly the same as the Surgery published separately among Constantinus’ works. The rest of this ninth book was translated into Latin at the time of the expedition to besiege Majorca, that is, in 1114-1115, by a John[2979] who had recently been converted to Christianity[2980] and whom Rose was inclined to identify with John Afflacius, “a disciple of Constantinus,” of whom we shall have more[Pg 749] to say presently. Rose further held that this John completed the Practica[2981] commonly ascribed to Constantinus with the exception of its tenth book which, as we have suggested, seems originally to have been a distinct Antidotarium. Different from the Pantegni is the Compendium megategni Galeni by Constantinus published with the works of Isaac, and the Librum Tegni, Megategni, Microtegni listed by Peter the Deacon.

The longest of Constantinus’ translations and the one most frequently referenced in the Middle Ages was the Pantechni or Pantegni, which consisted of ten books of theory and ten of practice[Pg 747], published in 1515 along with the works of Isaac.[2968] However, Peter the Deacon mentions Constantinus dividing the Pantegni into twelve books and then a Practica which also had twelve books. What is the ninth book of the Practica in this printed edition is listed as a separate book on surgery by Peter in his Illustrious Men, although it was omitted from his list in the Chronicle, and was printed this way in the 1536 edition of Constantinus’ works.[2969] The Antidotarium, which Peter lists as a separate title, is most likely just the tenth book of the Practica as printed with the works of Isaac.[2970] The Pantegni, however, is not a translation of any work by Isaac, but an adaptation of the Khitaab el Maleki, or Royal Art of Medicine, by Ali Ibn Abbas. The preface of Constantinus[2971] does not mention Ali but tells Abbot Desiderius that, after searching through the many works of the Latins and even in “our own writers, ancient and modern,” like Hippocrates, Galen, Oribasius, Paulus, and Alexander, he couldn't find the exact type of treatise he wanted, so he has created “this little work of our own” (hoc nostrum opusculum). However, Stephen of Pisa, who also translated Ali into Latin in 1127,[2972] accused Constantinus of hiding both the author's name and the book title, making many omissions and rearrangements in both the preface and text without actually adding anything new of his own.[2973] Stephen justified his own translation by claiming that not only had the first part of The Royal Art of Medicine by Ali Ibn Abbas been “corrupted by the clever deception of its translator,” but that the final and larger portion was missing in Constantinus’ version.[Pg 748].[2974] Additionally, Ferrarius noted in his commentary on the Universal Diets of Isaac that Constantinus had only completed the translation of three books of the Practica, losing the rest in a shipwreck.[2975] A third medieval writer, Giraldus Bituricensis, added[2976] that Constantinus replaced it with the Liber simplicis medicinae and Liber graduum, and that it was Stephen of Pisa who translated the remaining work of Ali ben Abbas called the Practica Pantegni et Stephanonis. Stephen’s translation is indeed different from the ten books of the Practica printed with the works of Isaac. Based on these facts and manuscript examinations of the Practica, Rose concluded[2977] that Constantinus only wrote its first two books[2978] and the first part of the ninth, which closely resembles the Surgery published separately among Constantinus’ works. The rest of this ninth book was translated into Latin during the time of the expedition to besiege Mallorca, in 1114-1115, by a John[2979] who had recently converted to Christianity[2980] and whom Rose suggested might be John Afflacius, “a disciple of Constantinus,” of whom we will discuss more shortly.[Pg 749].[2974] Rose further believed that this John completed the Practica[2981] typically attributed to Constantinus, except for its tenth book which, as we suggested, seems to have originally been a distinct Antidotarium. The Compendium megategni Galeni by Constantinus, published with the works of Isaac, along with the Librum Tegni, Megategni, and Microtegni listed by Peter the Deacon, are distinct from the Pantegni.

Viaticum.

Perhaps the next best known and the most frequently printed[2982] of Constantinus’ translations or adaptations from the Arabic is his Viaticum which, as Peter the Deacon states, is divided into seven books. In the preface Constantinus states that the Pantegni was for more advanced students, this is a brief manual for others. He also adds that he appends his own name to it because there are persons who profit by the labors of others and, “when the work of someone else has come into their hands, furtively and like thieves inscribe their own names.” Daremberg designated Abu Jafar Ahmed Ibn-al-Jezzar as author of the Arabic original of the Viaticum. Moses Ibn Tibbon, who made a Hebrew translation in 1259, criticized the Latin version of Constantinus as often abbreviated, obscure, and seriously altered in arrangement.[2983] Constantinus seems to be alluded to in the Ephodia or Greek version of the same work.[2984]

Perhaps the next best-known and most frequently printed translation or adaptation by Constantinus from the Arabic is his Viaticum, which, as Peter the Deacon notes, is divided into seven books. In the preface, Constantinus mentions that the Pantegni was intended for more advanced students, while this serves as a brief manual for others. He also adds that he puts his own name on it because some people take advantage of others’ work and, “when someone else’s work lands in their hands, they sneakily and like thieves put their own names on it.” Daremberg identified Abu Jafar Ahmed Ibn-al-Jezzar as the author of the Arabic original of the Viaticum. Moses Ibn Tibbon, who created a Hebrew translation in 1259, criticized Constantinus’s Latin version as often being abbreviated, unclear, and significantly altered in its arrangement. Constantinus seems to be referenced in the Ephodia, or Greek version of the same work.

[Pg 750]

[Pg 750]

Other translations.

If neither the original of the Pantegni nor of the Viaticum is to be assigned to Isaac, Constantinus nevertheless did translate some of his works, namely, those on diets, urines, and fevers.[2985] Moreover, Constantinus himself admits that these Latin works are translations, stating in the preface to the treatise on urines that, finding no satisfactory treatment of the subject in Latin, he turned to the Arabic language and translated the work which Isaac had compiled from the ancients. Constantinus also states that he translated the treatise on fevers from the Arabic. We have already seen that the alphabetical Latin version of Dioscorides which had most currency in the middle ages is ascribed in at least one manuscript to Constantinus. He also translated some treatises ascribed to Hippocrates and Galen, such as Galen’s commentary on the Aphorisms and Prognostics of Hippocrates[2986] and the Tegni of Galen. Constantinus has also been credited with translating works of Galen on the eyes, on diseases of women, and on human nature, but these are not genuine works of Galen.

If neither the original of the Pantegni nor the Viaticum can be attributed to Isaac, Constantinus did translate some of his works, specifically those about diets, urine, and fevers.[2985] Additionally, Constantinus himself acknowledges that these Latin texts are translations, stating in the preface to the treatise on urine that, finding no satisfactory treatment of the subject in Latin, he turned to Arabic and translated the work that Isaac had put together from ancient sources. Constantinus also mentions that he translated the treatise on fevers from Arabic. We have already noted that the alphabetical Latin version of Dioscorides, which was most popular in the Middle Ages, is attributed to Constantinus in at least one manuscript. He also translated several treatises attributed to Hippocrates and Galen, such as Galen’s commentary on the Aphorisms and Prognostics of Hippocrates[2986] and the Tegni of Galen. Constantinus has also been credited with translating works of Galen on the eyes, women's diseases, and human nature, but these are not authentic works of Galen.

The book of degrees.

In his list of the works which Constantinus translated from various languages.[2987] Peter the Deacon includes The book of degrees, but it has not yet been discovered from what earlier author, if any, it is copied or adapted. The work is a development of Galen’s doctrine that various[Pg 751] medicinal simples are hot or cold, dry or moist, in varying degrees. Constantinus presupposes four gradations of this sort. Thus a food or medicine is hot in the first degree if its heating power is below that of the normal human body; if it is of the same temperature as the body, it ranks as of the second degree; if its heat is somewhat greater than that of the body, it is of the third degree; if its heat is extreme and unbearable, it is of the fourth degree. The rose is cold in the first degree, is dry towards the end of the second degree, while the violet is cold towards the end of the first degree and moist in the beginning of the second degree. Thus Constantinus distinguishes not only four degrees but a beginning, middle and end of each degree, and Peter the Deacon once gives the title of the work as The book of twelve degrees.[2988] This interesting though crude beginning in the direction of scientific thermometry and hydrometry unfortunately rested upon incorrect assumptions as to the nature and causation of heat and moisture, and so was perhaps destined to do more harm than good.

In his list of works that Constantinus translated from various languages.[2987] Peter the Deacon includes The book of degrees, but we still don't know which earlier author it may have come from or if it was adapted from one. This work builds on Galen’s idea that different medicinal substances can be hot or cold, dry or moist, in varying degrees. Constantinus assumes there are four levels in this classification. A food or medicine is considered hot in the first degree if its heating power is lower than that of a normal human body; if it’s the same temperature as the body, it’s classified as the second degree; if it’s slightly hotter than the body, it’s the third degree; and if it’s extremely hot and unbearable, it’s the fourth degree. The rose is cold in the first degree and dry towards the end of the second degree, while the violet is cold towards the end of the first degree and moist at the beginning of the second degree. Therefore, Constantinus identifies not only four degrees but also a beginning, middle, and end for each degree, and Peter the Deacon even refers to the work as The book of twelve degrees.[2988] This intriguing yet simplistic start towards scientific thermometry and hydrometry, unfortunately, relied on incorrect beliefs about the nature and causes of heat and moisture, which may have led to more harm than good.

On melancholy.

A glossary of herbs and species and a work on the pulse, which Peter the Deacon includes in both his lists of Constantinus’ works or translations, do not seem to have been printed or identified as Constantinus’. On the other hand, the printed edition of the works of Constantinus includes treatises on melancholy and on the stomach[2989] which are not mentioned in Peter’s list. In a preface to the De melancholia which is not included in the printed edition[2990] Constantinus Africanus speaks of himself as a monk of Monte Cassino and states that, while he has often touched on the disease of melancholy in the many medical books which he has added to the Latin language, he has decided also to write a separate brochure on the subject because it is an important malady and because it is especially prevalent “in these regions.” “Therefore I have collected this booklet from[Pg 752] many volumes of our adepts in this art.” Whether the word “our” here refers to Greek or Arabic writers would be hard to say. Constantinus states that melancholy is a disease to which those are especially liable who are always intent on study and books of philosophy, “because of their scientific investigations and tiring their memories and grieving over the failure of their minds.” This ailment also afflicts “those who lose their beloved possessions, such as their children and dearest friends or some precious thing which cannot be restored, as when scholars suddenly lose their books.” Constantinus also describes the melancholy of “many religious persons who live lives to be revered, but fall into this disease from their fear of God and contemplation of the last judgment and desire of seeing the summum bonum. Such persons think of nothing and seek for nothing save to love and fear God alone, and they incur this complaint and become drunk as it were with their excessive anxiety and vanity.”[2991] Such passages would seem to describe Constantinus’ own associates and environment, but they may possibly be a mere translation of some work of an earlier Christian Arab, such as Honein ben Ishak who translated or pretended to translate a number of works of Greek medicine into Arabic. In a later chapter[2992] we shall find that Honein perhaps had something to do with another work called The Secrets of Galen, in which remedies for religious ascetics who have ruined their health by their austerities form a rather prominent feature.

A glossary of herbs and species and a work on the pulse, which Peter the Deacon includes in both his lists of Constantinus’ works or translations, don’t seem to have been printed or identified as Constantinus’. On the other hand, the printed edition of Constantinus’ works includes treatises on melancholy and the stomach[2989] that aren’t mentioned in Peter’s list. In a preface to the De melancholia which isn’t included in the printed edition[2990], Constantinus Africanus refers to himself as a monk of Monte Cassino and states that, while he has often discussed the disease of melancholy in the many medical books he has added to the Latin language, he has decided to write a separate booklet on the subject because it is an important illness and especially common “in these regions.” “Therefore I have collected this booklet from[Pg 752] many volumes of our experts in this field.” Whether the word “our” here refers to Greek or Arabic writers is hard to say. Constantinus explains that melancholy is a disease that particularly affects those who are always focused on study and philosophy, “because of their scientific inquiries, straining their memories, and grieving over the failure of their minds.” This issue also affects “those who lose their cherished belongings, such as their children, close friends, or something precious that cannot be replaced, like when scholars suddenly lose their books.” Constantinus also talks about the melancholy of “many religious individuals who lead respected lives, but fall into this illness from their fear of God, contemplation of the last judgment, and desire to see the summum bonum. Such individuals think of nothing and seek nothing except to love and fear God alone, and they suffer this condition, becoming as if intoxicated with their excessive anxiety and vanity.”[2991] These passages may describe Constantinus’ own associates and environment, but they could also just be a translation of earlier works by a Christian Arab, like Honein ben Ishak, who translated or claimed to translate several Greek medical texts into Arabic. In a later chapter[2992], we will discover that Honein may have been involved with another work called The Secrets of Galen, where remedies for religious ascetics who have harmed their health through excessive austerity are a significant focus.

On disorders of the stomach.

That the treatise on disorders of the stomach is Constantinus’ own work is indicated by its preface, which is addressed to Alfanus, archbishop of Salerno from 1058 to 1087 and earlier a monk of Monte Cassino. Alfanus had himself translated Nemesius Περὶ φύσεως ἀνθρώπου[2993] and was the center of a group of learned writers: the dialectician, Alberic the Deacon, the historian, Amatus of Salerno, and[Pg 753] the mathematician and astronomer, Pandulf of Capua.[2994] Constantinus states that he writes this treatise for Alfanus as a compensation for his recent failure to relieve a stomach-ache with which that prelate was afflicted. Such instances of self-confessed failure, be it noted in passing, are rare indeed in ancient and medieval medicine, and for this reason we are the more inclined to deal charitably with the charges of literary plagiarism which have been preferred against Constantinus. He goes on to say that he has sought with great care but in vain among ancient writings for any treatise devoted exclusively to the stomach, and has only succeeded in finding here and there scattered discussions which he now presumably combines in the present special treatise.

That the treatise on stomach disorders is Constantinus' own work is shown by its preface, which is addressed to Alfanus, the archbishop of Salerno from 1058 to 1087 and previously a monk at Monte Cassino. Alfanus had translated Nemesius' On the Nature of Man and was the center of a group of knowledgeable writers: the dialectician, Alberic the Deacon, the historian, Amatus of Salerno, and the mathematician and astronomer, Pandulf of Capua. Constantinus states that he writes this treatise for Alfanus as a way to make up for his recent failure to relieve a stomach ache that the archbishop suffered from. Such admissions of failure, it's worth noting, are quite rare in ancient and medieval medicine, and for this reason, we are more inclined to view the accusations of literary plagiarism against Constantinus with some leniency. He goes on to say that he has searched diligently, but unsuccessfully, among ancient texts for any treatise focused solely on the stomach and has only managed to find scattered discussions, which he now presumably combines into this special treatise.

Medical works ascribed to Alfanus.

This archbishop Alfanus appears to have written on medicine himself, since A treatise of Alfanus of Salerno concerning certain medical questions was listed among the books at Christchurch, Canterbury about 1300.[2995] Also a collection of recipes entitled, Experiments of an archbishop of Salerno, in a manuscript of the early twelfth century are very likely by him.[2996] They follow a treatise on melancholy which does not, however, appear to be that of Constantinus Africanus.[2997]

This archbishop Alfanus seems to have written on medicine himself, as A Treatise of Alfanus of Salerno Concerning Certain Medical Questions was listed among the books at Christchurch, Canterbury around 1300.[2995] Additionally, a collection of recipes titled Experiments of an Archbishop of Salerno, found in a manuscript from the early twelfth century, is very likely authored by him.[2996] They come after a treatise on melancholy, which, however, doesn't seem to be by Constantinus Africanus.[2997]

Constantinus and experiment.

Peter the Deacon’s bibliography of the works of Constantinus includes a De experimentis which, if extant, has not been identified as Constantinus’. In such works of his as are available, however, we find a number of mentions of experience and its value. It is of course to be remembered that such expressions as “we state what we have tested and what our authorities have used,”[2998] and “we have had personal experience of the confection which we now mention,”[2999] may refer to the experience of the past authors[Pg 754] whose works Constantinus is using or translating rather than to his own. In the Pantegni[3000] “ancient medical writers” are divided into experientes and rationabiles, and we are told that the empirics declare that compound medicines can be discovered only in dreams and by chance, while the rationalists hold that these can be deduced from a knowledge of the virtues and qualities and accidents of bodies and diseases. This much is of course simply Galen over again. Constantinus occasionally gives medical “experiments,” as in the case of “proved experiments to eject reptiles from the body,”[3001] or the placing of a live chicken on the place bitten by a mad dog. The chicken will then die while the man will be cured “beyond a doubt.”[3002] Such medical “experiments” by Constantinus were often cited by subsequent medieval writers.

Peter the Deacon’s bibliography of Constantinus's works includes a De experimentis, which, if it exists, hasn't been identified as belonging to Constantinus. However, in the works that are available, there are several references to experience and its value. It's important to remember that phrases like “we state what we have tested and what our authorities have used,”[2998] and “we have had personal experience with the treatment we now discuss,”[2999] may actually refer to the experiences of earlier authors[Pg 754] whose works Constantinus is using or translating, rather than his own. In the Pantegni[3000], "ancient medical writers" are categorized as experientes and rationabiles. The empirics claim that compound medicines can only be discovered through dreams and chance, while the rationalists argue that they can be derived from understanding the properties, qualities, and nuances of bodies and diseases. This is essentially just a reiteration of Galen's ideas. Constantinus sometimes presents medical “experiments,” such as “tested methods to expel reptiles from the body,”[3001] or placing a live chicken on the site bitten by a rabid dog. The chicken then dies while the person will be cured “without a doubt.”[3002] Such medical “experiments” by Constantinus were frequently referenced by later medieval writers.

“Experiments” involving incantations.

Incantations are involved in some of these “experiments.” One approved experiment, we are told, consists in whispering in the ear of the patient the words, Recede demon quia dee fanolcri precipiunt. The effect of this procedure is that when the epileptic rises, after remaining like one dead for an hour, he will answer any question that may be put to him. Another experiment to cure epilepsy is frequently cited by subsequent medieval medical writers from Constantinus, and, while it may not have originated with him, is apparently of Christian rather than Greek or Mohammedan origin. If the epileptic has parents living, they are to take him to church on the day of the four seasons and have him hear mass on the sixth day and also on Saturday. When he comes again on Sunday the priest is to write down the passage in the Gospel where it says, “This kind is not cast out save by fasting and prayer.” Presumably the epileptic is to wear this writing, in which case a sure cure is promised, “be he epileptic or lunatic or demoniac.” But it is added that the charm will not work in the case of persons born of incestuous marriages.[3003]

Incantations are part of some of these “experiments.” One approved experiment, we’re told, involves whispering into the patient’s ear the words, Recede demon quia dee fanolcri precipiunt. The result of this process is that when the epileptic wakes up after being unresponsive for an hour, they will answer any question asked. Another often-cited treatment for epilepsy comes from Constantinus, and while it may not have originated with him, it seems to be of Christian rather than Greek or Mohammedan background. If the epileptic has living parents, they should take him to church on the day of the four seasons and have him attend mass on the sixth day and also on Saturday. When he returns on Sunday, the priest should write down the Gospel passage that says, “This kind is not cast out save by fasting and prayer.” Presumably, the epileptic is supposed to carry this writing, and in that case, a sure cure is promised, “whether he is epileptic, lunatic, or demoniac.” However, it’s noted that the charm will not work for those born from incestuous marriages.[3003]

[Pg 755]

[Pg 755]

Superstition comparatively rare in Constantinus.

But as a rule incantations and superstitious ceremony are comparatively rare in the works of Constantinus, which contain little to justify the charge of magic said to have been made against him in Africa or the charge of superstition made against the Arabic medicine which his writings so largely reflect. Also these superstitious passages seem limited to the treatment of certain ailments of a mysterious character like epilepsy and insanity, which, Constantinus says, the populace call divinatio and account for by possession by demons.[3004] It is against epilepsy and phantasy that it is recommended to give a child to swallow before it has been weaned the brains of a goat drawn through a golden ring. And it is for epilepsy that we find such suspensions as hairs from an entirely white dog or the small red stones in swallows’ gizzards, from which they must have been removed at midday. When Constantinus is treating of eye and ear troubles, or even of paralysis of the tongue and toothache, use of amulets is infrequent and there is only an occasional suggestion of marvelous virtue. Gout is treated with unguents and recipes but without the superstitious ligatures often found in medieval works of medicine.[3005] Parts of animals are employed a good deal: thus if you anoint the entire body with lion fat, you will have no fear of serpents, and binding on the head the fresh lung of an ox is good for frenzy.[3006] But Constantinus more often explains the action of things in nature from their four qualities of hot, cold, moist, and dry, than he does by assuming the existence of occult virtues.

But generally, spells and superstitious rituals are pretty rare in the works of Constantinus, which have little to support the claim of magic supposedly made against him in Africa or the accusation of superstition linked to the Arabic medicine reflected in his writings. Additionally, these superstitious references seem limited to the treatment of certain mysterious conditions like epilepsy and insanity, which Constantinus mentions the people refer to as divinatio and attribute to demon possession. [3004] For epilepsy and hallucinations, it is suggested to give a child to swallow the brains of a goat pulled through a golden ring before it is weaned. And for epilepsy, there are such remedies as hairs from a completely white dog or small red stones from swallows’ gizzards, which must be taken out at noon. When Constantinus discusses eye and ear issues, or even paralysis of the tongue and toothaches, the use of amulets is rare and only occasionally does he hint at miraculous properties. Gout is treated with ointments and recipes, but without the superstitious bindings often seen in medieval medical texts. [3005] Animal parts are used quite a bit: for example, if you rub lion fat all over your body, you won’t fear snakes, and tying on the fresh lung of an ox on your head is good for madness. [3006] However, Constantinus more frequently explains the effects of things in nature through their four qualities of hot, cold, moist, and dry, rather than by assuming the presence of hidden powers.

And of Greek rather than Arabic origin.

It is also to be noted that those passages where Constantinus’ medicine borders most closely upon magic are apt to be borrowed from, or at least credited to, Galen and Dioscorides. Neither Constantinus nor his Arabic authorities introduced most of these superstitious elements into medicine. In his work on degrees Constantinus repeats[Pg 756] Galen’s story of the boy who fell into an epileptic fit whenever the suspended peony was removed from his neck.[3007] In the Viaticum[3008] he ascribes the suspension of a white dog’s hairs and the use of various other parts of animals for epileptics to Dioscorides, but they do not seem to be found in that author’s extant works. Water in which blacksmiths have quenched their irons is another remedy prescribed for various disorders upon the authority of Dioscorides and Galen.[3009] Theriac and terra sigillata are of course not forgotten. That there is a magnetic mountain on the shore of the Indian Ocean which draws all the iron nails out of passing ships, and that the magnet extracts arrows from wounds is stated on the authority of the Lapidary of Aristotle, a spurious work. Constantinus adds that Rufus says that the magnet comforts those afflicted with melancholy and removes their fears and suspicions.[3010] However, it is without citation of other authors that Constantinus states that the plant agnus castus will mortify lust if it is merely suspended over the sleeper.[3011]

It's also worth noting that the sections where Constantinus' medicine closely resembles magic are likely taken from, or at least attributed to, Galen and Dioscorides. Neither Constantinus nor his Arabic sources brought most of these superstitious elements into medicine. In his work on degrees, Constantinus repeats[Pg 756] Galen's tale of the boy who would have an epileptic fit whenever the suspended peony was taken from his neck.[3007] In the Viaticum[3008], he credits Dioscorides with the use of a white dog's hairs and various other animal parts for treating epilepsy, but these don't seem to be found in Dioscorides' surviving works. Water that blacksmiths use to cool their metal is another remedy he recommends based on Dioscorides and Galen.[3009] Theriac and terra sigillata are, of course, also mentioned. There’s a magnetic mountain on the Indian Ocean shore that supposedly pulls all the iron nails from passing ships, and it’s said that the magnet can draw arrows out of wounds, according to the Lapidary of Aristotle, which is a fraudulent text. Constantinus also says that Rufus claims the magnet eases those suffering from melancholy and alleviates their fears and worries.[3010] However, Constantinus states without citing other authors that the plant agnus castus will suppress lust if simply hung above someone sleeping.[3011]

Some signs of astrology and alchemy.

There is not a great deal of astrological medicine in the works of Constantinus Africanus. There are some allusions to the moon and dog-days,[3012] Galen being twice cited to the effect that epilepsy in a waxing moon is a very moist disease, while in a waning moon it is very cold. In a chapter of the Pantegni[3013] the relation of critical days to the course of the moon and also to the nature of number is discussed. In another passage of the same work[3014] we read that if other remedies fail in the case of a patient who cannot hold his water while in bed, he should eat the bladder of a river fish for eight days while the moon is waxing and waning[Pg 757] and he will be freed from the complaint. But Hippocrates testifies that in old men the ailment is incurable. But the principal astrological passage that I have found in the works of Constantinus is that in De humana natura[3015] where he traces the formation of the child in the womb and the influence of the planets upon the successive months of the process, and explains why children born in the seventh or ninth month live while those born in the eighth month die. This passage was cited by Vincent of Beauvais in his Speculum naturale.[3016] Belief in alchemy is suggested when Constantinus repeats the assertion of some book on stones that lead would be silver except for its smell, its softness, and its inability to endure fire.[3017]

There isn't a lot of astrological medicine in the works of Constantinus Africanus. There are a few references to the moon and dog-days, with Galen being quoted twice on how epilepsy during a waxing moon is a very moist disease, while during a waning moon, it is very cold. In a chapter of the Pantegni, the relationship between critical days and the moon's phases, as well as the significance of numbers, is discussed. In another section of the same work, it states that if other treatments don't work for a patient who can't control his bladder at night, he should eat the bladder of a river fish for eight days while the moon is waxing and waning, and he will be cured. However, Hippocrates notes that this condition is incurable in older men. The main astrological passage I found in Constantinus's works is in De humana natura, where he describes the development of a child in the womb and the impact of the planets over the months of this process, explaining why children born in the seventh or ninth month survive, while those born in the eighth month do not. This passage was referenced by Vincent of Beauvais in his Speculum naturale. There’s a hint of belief in alchemy when Constantinus restates a claim from a book on stones that lead would turn into silver if not for its smell, softness, and inability to withstand fire.

Constantinus and the School of Salerno.

The relation of Constantinus Africanus to the School of Salerno has been the subject of much dispute and of divergent views. Some have held that Salerno’s medical importance practically began with him; others have tried to maintain for Salernitan medicine a Neo-Latin character quite distinct from Constantinus’ introduction of Arabic influence. From the fact that Constantinus passed from Salerno to Monte Cassino, where most, if not all, of his writing seems to have been done, it has been assumed that there was an intimate connection between the monks and the rise of a medical school at Salerno. On the other hand, Renzi and Rashdall have ridiculed the notion, declaring the distance and difficulty of communication between the two places to be an insurmountable difficulty. It must be remembered, however, that Constantinus himself both attended the archbishop of Salerno in a case of stomach trouble and sent a treatise on the subject to him afterwards. A strong personal influence by him upon the practice and still more upon the literature of Salernitan medicine is therefore not precluded, though his stay at Salerno may have been brief and his literary labor performed entirely[Pg 758] at the monastery. In any case a Master John Afflacius, who is associated with other Salernitan writers in a compilation from their works, was a disciple of Constantinus and, as we are about to see, perhaps the author of some of the treatises which have been published under Constantinus’ name. It certainly would seem that Constantinus and his disciple have as good a right to be called Salernitan as most of the authors included in Renzi’s collection.

The relationship between Constantinus Africanus and the School of Salerno has been the topic of much debate and differing opinions. Some argue that Salerno's medical significance basically began with him, while others try to maintain that Salernitan medicine has a Neo-Latin character that is quite different from Constantinus' introduction of Arabic influence. The fact that Constantinus moved from Salerno to Monte Cassino, where it seems he did most, if not all, of his writing, has led to the assumption that there was a close connection between the monks and the development of a medical school at Salerno. However, Renzi and Rashdall mocked this idea, stating that the distance and challenges of communication between the two places present an insurmountable obstacle. It’s important to note that Constantinus himself treated the archbishop of Salerno for stomach issues and later sent him a written piece on the topic. Thus, a significant personal influence from him on the practice and even more so on the literature of Salernitan medicine is certainly possible, even though his time in Salerno might have been short and his literary work done entirely[Pg 758] at the monastery. In any case, a Master John Afflacius, who is linked with other Salernitan writers in a compilation of their works, was a student of Constantinus and, as we will see, might be the author of some of the writings published under Constantinus' name. It certainly seems that Constantinus and his student have just as much right to be considered Salernitan as most of the authors included in Renzi’s collection.

Liber aureus and John Afflacius.

In a medical manuscript which Henschel discovered at Breslau in 1837[3018] and which he regarded as a composition of the School of Salerno and dated in the twelfth century, he found in the case of two works compiled from various authors[3019] that the passages ascribed to a Master John Afflacius, who was described as “a disciple of Constantinus,”[3020] were identical with passages in the Liber aureus or De remediorum et aegritudinum cognitione published as a work of Constantinus in the Basel edition of 1536. He also identified a Liber urinarum attributed to the same John Afflacius, disciple of Constantinus, in the Breslau manuscript with the De urinis which follows the Liber aureus in the printed edition of Constantinus’ works. Thus either the pupil appropriated or completed and published the work of his master, or Constantinus had the same good fortune in having his own name attached to the compositions of his pupil[3021] as in the case of the writings of his Arabic predecessors.

In a medical manuscript that Henschel discovered in Breslau in 1837[3018], which he believed was created by the School of Salerno and dated to the twelfth century, he found in the case of two works compiled from various authors[3019] that the passages attributed to a Master John Afflacius, described as “a disciple of Constantinus,”[3020] were identical to passages in the Liber aureus or De remediorum et aegritudinum cognitione published as a work of Constantinus in the Basel edition of 1536. He also identified a Liber urinarum attributed to the same John Afflacius, disciple of Constantinus, in the Breslau manuscript with the De urinis that follows the Liber aureus in the printed edition of Constantinus’ works. Therefore, either the pupil claimed or finished and published his master’s work, or Constantinus had the same luck in having his name connected to the compositions of his pupil[3021] as happened with the writings of his Arabic predecessors.

Afflacius more superstitious than his master.

It may be further noted that the disciple seems to have been more superstitious than the master, for in one of the passages ascribed to Afflacius in the aforesaid compilation,[Pg 759] after the correspondence with the Liber aureus has ceased, the text goes on to prescribe the suspension of goat’s horn over one’s head as a soporific and gives the following “prognostic of life or death.” Smear the forehead of the patient from ear to ear with musam eneam. “If he sleeps, he will live; but if not, he will die; and this has been tested in acute fevers.” Another method is to try if the patient’s urine will mix with the milk of a woman who is suckling a male child. If it will, he will live. Another procedure to induce sleep is then given, which consists in reading the first verse of the Gospel of John nine times over the patient’s head, placing beneath his head a missal or psalter and the names of the seven sleepers written on a scroll. This is not the first instance of such Christian magic that we have encountered in connection with the School of Salerno and we begin to suspect that it was rather characteristic. At any rate it was not uncommon in medieval medicine in general and was almost certainly introduced before Innocent III who in 1215 forbade ordeals and who frowned on other superstitious practices. Probably such Christian magic dates from a period before Arabic influence began to be felt. Thus again we have reason to doubt whether early medieval medicine or Salernitan medicine was less superstitious than Arabic medicine or than medieval medicine after the introduction of Arabic medicine. At least Constantinus Africanus who represents the introduction of translations from the Arabic is comparatively free from superstition.

It’s worth mentioning that the disciple seems to have been more superstitious than the master. In one of the passages attributed to Afflacius in the aforementioned compilation,[Pg 759] after the correspondence with the Liber aureus has ended, the text recommends hanging a goat’s horn above one’s head as a sleep aid and provides the following “sign of life or death.” Spread musam eneam from one ear to the other on the patient’s forehead. “If he sleeps, he will live; but if not, he will die; and this has been tested on severe fevers.” Another method involves checking if the patient's urine can mix with the milk of a woman who is nursing a male child. If it does, he will live. Another technique to induce sleep is mentioned, which involves reading the first verse of the Gospel of John nine times over the patient’s head, placing a missal or psalter under his head, along with a scroll with the names of the seven sleepers written on it. This is not the first example of such Christian magic we’ve encountered related to the School of Salerno, and it leads us to suspect it was rather typical. In any case, it wasn’t unusual in medieval medicine overall and was likely introduced before Innocent III, who in 1215 banned ordeals and frowned upon other superstitious practices. This Christian magic probably dates back to a time before Arabic influence was felt. Thus, we have reason to doubt whether early medieval medicine or Salernitan medicine was less superstitious than Arabic medicine or than medieval medicine after the introduction of Arabic medicine. At the very least, Constantinus Africanus, who represents the introduction of translations from Arabic, appears to be relatively free from superstition.


[Pg 760]

[Pg 760]

CHAPTER XXXIII
TREATISES ON THE ARTS BEFORE THE INTRODUCTION OF ARABIC ALCHEMY

Latin treatises on the arts and colors—Progress of the arts even during the early middle ages—Scantiness of the sources—Character of Arabic alchemy—Different character of our Latin treatises—Compositiones ad tingendaMappe Clavicula—Some of its recipes—Question of symbolic nomenclature—Magical procedure with goats: in Mappe Clavicula—Similar passages in Heraclius—And Theophilus—A magic figure—Use of an incantation in tenth century alchemy—Experimental character of the work of Theophilus—How to make Spanish gold—The question of symbolic terminology again—Alchemy in the eleventh century—St. Dunstan and alchemy and magic—Introduction of Arabic alchemy in the twelfth century.

Latin writings on the arts and colors—Advancements in the arts even during the early middle ages—Lack of available sources—Nature of Arabic alchemy—Distinct nature of our Latin writings—Compositiones ad tingendaMappe Clavicula—Some of its recipes—Discussion of symbolic naming—Magical rituals involving goats: in Mappe Clavicula—Similar excerpts in Heraclius—And Theophilus—A magical diagram—Use of an incantation in tenth-century alchemy—Experimental nature of Theophilus's work—How to create Spanish gold—The issue of symbolic terminology once again—Alchemy in the eleventh century—St. Dunstan and alchemy and magic—Introduction of Arabic alchemy in the twelfth century.

“ ... campum latissimum diversarum artium perscrutari....”

“ ... to explore the vast field of various arts....”

Theophilus, Schedula, I, Praefatio.

Theophilus, Schedula, I, Preface.

Latin treatises on the arts and colors.

We come to the consideration of several treatises dealing with colors and the arts and dating from about the eighth to the twelfth centuries and probably in part of earlier origin. These are the Compositiones ad tingenda in a manuscript of the eighth or ninth century, the Mappe clavicula found in part in a tenth century manuscript and more fully in one of the twelfth century, the poem of Heraclius on The colors and arts of the Romans, and the remarkable treatise of Theophilus On diverse arts in three books.[3022] The[Pg 761] oldest known manuscripts of Theophilus are of the twelfth century and he has been dated at the beginning of that century or end of the eleventh, and Heraclius, from whom he takes a number of his chapters, still earlier. But it scarcely seems that some of Theophilus’ descriptions of ecclesiastical art would have been written before the twelfth century. Mrs. Merrifield regarded only the first two metrical books of The colors and arts of the Romans as the work of Heraclius, and the third book in prose as a later addition of the twelfth or thirteenth century and probably written by a Frenchman, whereas she believed that Heraclius wrote in southern Italy under Byzantine influence.[3023] His poem sounds to me like an attempt to imitate Lucretius, while one also is inclined to associate it with the perhaps nearly contemporary poems in which the so-called Macer and Marbod recounted in verse form some of the properties of herbs and stones which they had learned from ancient writers.

We will now look at several writings about colors and the arts from around the eighth to the twelfth centuries, with some possibly dating back even earlier. These include the Compositiones ad tingenda from a manuscript of the eighth or ninth century, the Mappe clavicula partly found in a tenth-century manuscript and more completely in a twelfth-century one, the poem by Heraclius titled The colors and arts of the Romans, and the notable treatise by Theophilus On diverse arts in three books.[3022] The[Pg 761] earliest known manuscripts of Theophilus are from the twelfth century, and he is estimated to have written either at the beginning of that century or at the end of the eleventh, while Heraclius, who influenced several of his chapters, predates him. However, it seems unlikely that some of Theophilus’ descriptions of church art would have been written before the twelfth century. Mrs. Merrifield only considered the first two metrical books of The colors and arts of the Romans to be by Heraclius, viewing the third book in prose as a later addition from the twelfth or thirteenth century and likely written by a Frenchman, while she believed that Heraclius wrote in southern Italy under Byzantine influence.[3023] His poem feels like an attempt to mimic Lucretius, and it also brings to mind the possibly nearly contemporary poems where the so-called Macer and Marbod described in verse some properties of herbs and stones that they had learned from ancient writers.

Progress of the arts even during the early middle ages.

Berthelot regarded these treatises on the arts as proof that the knowledge of industrial and alchemical processes continued unbroken even in western Europe from Egypt to the middle ages, although he held that the theories of transmutation and the like reached the west only in the twelfth century through the Arabs.[3024] Moreover, there is progress in the technical processes just as there was progress in Romanesque and Gothic art. New items and recipes appear in the lists. Even in the declining Roman Empire and earliest middle age we have evidence of new discoveries. The artificial fabrication of cinnabar becomes known at some time after Dioscorides and Pliny and before the eighth century.[3025] The hydrostatic balance is described not only in the Mappe clavicula but in the Carmen de ponderibus of Priscian or of Q. Remnius Fannius Palaemo of the fourth[Pg 762] or fifth century A. D.[3026] Heraclius speaks more than once in his poem with admiration of the works of art of the Roman “kings” and people, and asks, “Who now is capable of investigating these arts, is able to reveal to us what those potent artificers of immense intellect discovered for themselves?”[3027] However, his aim is to resurrect these arts; he assures the reader that he writes nothing which he has not first proved himself;[3028] and he tells in particular how he discovered by close scrutiny of a piece of Roman glass that there was gold-leaf placed between two layers of glass, a work which he successfully imitated.[3029] On the other hand, lead glazing, according to Alexandre Brongniart, director of the Sèvres manufactory, is not found in European pottery before the twelfth century, when it was applied in Pesaro about 1100 and is found on pottery in a tomb at Jumièges of about 1120.[3030]

Berthelot saw these writings on the arts as evidence that the understanding of industrial and alchemical processes remained intact across western Europe from Egypt to the Middle Ages, although he believed that ideas about transmutation and similar concepts only reached the west in the twelfth century through the Arabs.[3024] Furthermore, there is advancement in technical methods just as there was in Romanesque and Gothic art. New items and recipes appear in lists. Even during the decline of the Roman Empire and the early Middle Ages, there are signs of new discoveries. The artificial creation of cinnabar became known sometime after Dioscorides and Pliny and before the eighth century.[3025] The hydrostatic balance is detailed not only in the Mappe clavicula but also in the Carmen de ponderibus by Priscian or by Q. Remnius Fannius Palaemo from the fourth[Pg 762] or fifth century A.D.[3026] Heraclius expresses admiration more than once in his poem for the artistic creations of the Roman “kings” and people, asking, “Who now can investigate these arts and reveal to us what those skilled creators of great intellect discovered for themselves?”[3027] However, his goal is to revive these arts; he assures the reader that he writes only what he has first verified himself;[3028] and he specifically recounts how he figured out by examining a piece of Roman glass that there was gold-leaf placed between two layers of glass, a technique he successfully replicated.[3029] On the other hand, lead glazing, according to Alexandre Brongniart, director of the Sèvres manufactory, is not found in European pottery prior to the twelfth century when it was used in Pesaro around 1100 and is discovered on pottery in a tomb at Jumièges from around 1120.[3030]

Scantiness of the sources.

During the early medieval centuries the Byzantine Empire, Syria and Egypt after they were conquered by the Arabs, the busy streets of Bagdad and Cordova, and Persia undoubtedly produced a far more flourishing activity in the fine arts and the industrial arts than was the case in backward western Christian Europe. Yet the surviving evidence for such activity is disappointing, and seems limited to some notices and allusions in Arabian and Jewish travelers and historians, and to the dust-heaps of ruined cities like Fostat, Rai, and Rakka. As the finest early specimens of Byzantine mosaics are preserved in Italy at Ravenna, so our Latin treatises concerning the arts are perhaps the best extant for the early medieval period up to the twelfth century.

During the early medieval centuries, the Byzantine Empire, Syria and Egypt after their conquest by the Arabs, the bustling streets of Baghdad and Córdoba, and Persia all experienced much more vibrant artistic and industrial activity than what was happening in the underdeveloped western Christian Europe. However, the surviving evidence for this activity is disappointing and mostly limited to references and mentions by Arab and Jewish travelers and historians, along with the ruins of cities like Fostat, Rai, and Rakka. Just as the finest early examples of Byzantine mosaics are preserved in Italy at Ravenna, our Latin writings about the arts are likely the best surviving records for the early medieval period up to the twelfth century.

[Pg 763]

[Pg 763]

Character of Arabic alchemy.

A number of treatises on alchemy in Arabic have reached us but they, like the Byzantine, chiefly continue the fantastic mysticism and obscurity, the astrology and magic, of the ancient Greek alchemists. Thus in the Book of Crates we have a virgin priestess of the temple of Serapis at Alexandria, and the snake Ouroburos, also a vision of the seven heavens of the planets. The Book of Alhabib invokes Hermes Trismegistus and says that the sages have not revealed the secret of transmutation for fear of the anger of the demons. The Book of Ostanes, in which Andalusia is mentioned, has eighty-four different names for the philosopher’s stone, and a fantastic dream concerning seven doors and three inscriptions in Egyptian, concerning the Persian Magi, and a citation from an Indian sage concerning the healing virtues of the urine of a white elephant. The Book of Like Weights of Geber states that the sage can discern the mixture of the four elements in animals, plants, and stones by astrology and many other signs involving varied superstition. His Book of Sympathy again emphasizes the seven planets as the key to alchemy and has much about the spirit in matter. His Book on Quicksilver, although it promises clarity, is the most mystic and incomprehensible of all. In it we read of raising the dead and of use of such liquids as “a divine water” and the milk of an uncorrupted virgin.[3031]

Several treatises on alchemy in Arabic have come down to us, but they, like the Byzantine ones, primarily carry on the bizarre mysticism and obscurity, as well as the astrology and magic, of the ancient Greek alchemists. For example, in the Book of Crates, there’s a virgin priestess from the temple of Serapis in Alexandria, and the snake Ouroboros, along with a vision of the seven heavens of the planets. The Book of Alhabib calls upon Hermes Trismegistus and states that the wise haven’t disclosed the secret of transmutation out of fear of demon wrath. The Book of Ostanes, which mentions Andalusia, lists eighty-four different names for the philosopher’s stone and includes a surreal dream about seven doors and three inscriptions in Egyptian, relating to the Persian Magi, as well as a quote from an Indian sage about the healing properties of a white elephant’s urine. The Book of Like Weights by Geber asserts that the sage can identify the blend of the four elements in animals, plants, and stones through astrology and various other signs involving diverse superstitions. His Book of Sympathy again highlights the seven planets as essential to alchemy and discusses much about the spirit within matter. His Book on Quicksilver, though it claims to be clear, is the most mystical and difficult to understand of all. In it, we learn about raising the dead and the use of liquids referred to as “divine water” and the milk of an uncorrupted virgin.[3031]

Different character of our Latin treatises.

Our Latin treatises are as free from mysticism and obscurity, from dreams and visions, as they are from theoretical discussion. They are collections of recipes and directions which are supposed at least to be practical and which are written in a simple and straightforward style. They are not, however, taken together, by any means entirely free from astrological directions or belief in occult virtue or yet other superstition, and they include recipes for making[Pg 764] gold. Of this there is least in the first treatise we have to consider.

Our Latin writings are free from mysticism and confusion, as well as from dreams and visions, and they don't engage in theoretical debates. They consist of collections of recipes and instructions that are meant to be practical and are written in a clear and direct style. However, when taken as a whole, they aren't entirely devoid of astrological guidance, belief in hidden powers, or other superstitions, and they do include recipes for making[Pg 764] gold. There's the least of this in the first treatise we are going to discuss.

Compositiones ad tingenda.

The Compositiones ad tingenda,[3032] a treatise or collection of notes and recipes preserved in a manuscript dating from the time of Charlemagne, throws some light on the technical processes preserved in the Latin west in the early middle ages and on the amount of knowledge of natural phenomena preserved in connection with the arts,—applied science in other words. It tells how to color glass and make mosaics, and describes a glass furnace; how to dye skins and make parchment; how to make gold-leaf, gold-thread, silver-leaf and tin-leaf; how to give copper the color of gold; it gives various directions and preparations for painting and gilding; and a description of various minerals and herbs employed in the above processes. Much is repeated that is found already in Pliny and Dioscorides, or in Aristotle and the Greek alchemists. But several things are mentioned, at least so far as we know, for the first time, although Berthelot believed that the compiler of the Compositiones ad tingenda had copied them from earlier works, very probably Byzantine or late Roman, and not invented them himself. We find here the first mention of vitriol and of “bronze,”—a word apparently derived from Brundisium. Amor aquae is used for the first time for the scum formed on waters containing iron salts and other metals, and we also meet the first instance of the preparation of cinnabar by means of sulphur and mercury. The work contains very little superstition with the exception of one passage which Berthelot has already noted.[3033] Once a stone is spoken of as having solar virtue; lead is distinguished as masculine and feminine; the gall of a tortoise is used in a composition for writing golden letters, and pig’s blood[Pg 765] is employed in another connection. But these are trifling signs of occult science.

The Compositiones ad tingenda,[3032] is a treatise or collection of notes and recipes preserved in a manuscript from the time of Charlemagne. It sheds light on the technical processes maintained in the Latin West during the early Middle Ages, as well as the understanding of natural phenomena linked to the arts—basically, applied science. It explains how to color glass and create mosaics, and provides details about a glass furnace; how to dye skins and produce parchment; how to make gold leaf, gold thread, silver leaf, and tin leaf; how to give copper a gold-like appearance; it offers various directions and preparations for painting and gilding; and includes descriptions of different minerals and herbs used in these processes. Much of this information is already found in Pliny, Dioscorides, Aristotle, and Greek alchemists. However, a few things are mentioned for the first time, at least as far as we know, although Berthelot believed that the compiler of the Compositiones ad tingenda likely copied them from earlier works, probably Byzantine or late Roman, rather than inventing them. Here, we find the first mention of vitriol and “bronze”—a term seemingly derived from Brundisium. The term Amor aquae is used for the first time for the scum that forms on water containing iron salts and other metals, and we also encounter the first known instance of making cinnabar using sulfur and mercury. The work contains very little superstition, with the exception of one passage that Berthelot has already noted.[3033] A stone is mentioned as having solar properties; lead is categorized as masculine and feminine; tortoise gall is used in a mixture for writing golden letters, and pig’s blood[Pg 765] is used in another context. But these are minor indicators of occult science.

Mappe Clavicula.

More alchemistic in character is the Mappe Clavicula,[3034] which, in its fuller twelfth century form, embodies the Compositiones ad tingenda in a different order,[3035] and adds about twice as many more recipes for making gold, making colors, writing with gold, glues and various other matters, including building directions. Berthelot regarded two items instructing how to make images of the gods as signs of an ancient pagan origin for the work.[3036] One of these items occurs in the twelfth century text, the other in the tenth century table of contents. On the other hand Berthelot believed that the twelfth century version contained the oldest directions for the distillation of alcohol.[3037] The Mappe Clavicula adds a good deal that is of a superstitious character to the Compositiones ad tingenda which it includes, and at the same time lays considerable stress upon experimental method.

More alchemistic in nature is the Mappe Clavicula,[3034] which, in its more complete twelfth-century version, includes the Compositiones ad tingenda in a different sequence,[3035] and adds about twice as many recipes for creating gold, making colors, writing with gold, glues, and various other topics, including construction instructions. Berthelot viewed two entries detailing how to create images of the gods as evidence of an ancient pagan origin for the text.[3036] One of these entries is found in the twelfth-century text, while the other is in the tenth-century table of contents. Conversely, Berthelot believed that the twelfth-century version contained the earliest instructions for the distillation of alcohol.[3037] The Mappe Clavicula adds a considerable amount of superstitious content to the Compositiones ad tingenda that it incorporates, while also placing significant emphasis on experimental methods.

Some of its recipes.

It opens with a recipe “for making the best gold,” the first of a long series. One of the ingredients in this case is “a bit of moon-earth, which the Greeks call Affroselinum.” The third recipe advises one to experiment at first with only a little of the compound in question, until one learns the process more thoroughly.[3038] The ingredients for gold-making in the sixth recipe include the gall of a goat and of a bull, and saffron from Lycia or Arabia, which is to be pounded in a Theban mortar in the sun in dog-days. At the close of the fourteenth recipe, into which the gall of a bull again enters we have one of the injunctions to secrecy so dear to the alchemist: “Hide the sacred secret which should be transmitted to no one, nor give to[Pg 766] anyone the prophetic.”[3039] It is also implied that alchemy is a religious or divine art in the twentieth recipe where it is said that operators should concede all things to divine works. But such mystic allusions are infrequent as well as brief. In the same twentieth item gold is supposed to be made from a mixture of iron rust, magnet, foreign alum, myrrh, gold, and wine. It is also stated that those who will not credit the great utility that there is in humors are those who do not make demonstration for themselves, another instance of the experimental character of the work. The forty-first recipe states that gold may be dissolved in order to write with it by dipping it in the blood of an Indian dragon, placing it in a glass vessel, and surrounding it with coals. In the sixty-ninth item the blood of a dragon or of a cock is mixed with urine and the stone celidonius. The gall of a bull and the blood of a pig are used again in recipes sixty-eight and one hundred and twenty-eight.

It starts with a recipe "for making the best gold," the first in a long list. One of the ingredients here is "a bit of moon-earth, which the Greeks call Affroselinum." The third recipe suggests that one should start experimenting with just a small amount of the compound until they understand the process better.[3038] The ingredients for gold-making in the sixth recipe include the gall of a goat and a bull, along with saffron from Lycia or Arabia, which should be ground in a Theban mortar under the sun during the hottest days. At the end of the fourteenth recipe, where the gall of a bull is mentioned again, there's an emphasis on secrecy that's cherished by alchemists: "Hide the sacred secret that should not be shared with anyone, nor give to[Pg 766] anyone the prophetic."[3039] It's also hinted that alchemy is a religious or divine art in the twentieth recipe, where it states that practitioners should attribute everything to divine works. However, such mystical references are rare and brief. In the same twentieth recipe, gold is said to be created from a mix of iron rust, magnet, foreign alum, myrrh, gold, and wine. It's mentioned that those who don’t recognize the great benefits of these substances are usually those who don’t investigate for themselves, highlighting the experimental nature of the work. The forty-first recipe mentions that gold can be dissolved for writing by soaking it in the blood of an Indian dragon, placing it in a glass vessel, and surrounding it with coals. In the sixty-ninth recipe, the blood of a dragon or a rooster is combined with urine and the stone celidonius. The gall of a bull and the blood of a pig are used again in recipes sixty-eight and one hundred and twenty-eight.

Question of symbolic nomenclature.

It has sometimes been contended, chiefly by persons who did not realize how universal was the ascription of great virtue to the parts of animals in ancient and medieval science and their use as remedies in the medicine of the same periods, that they are not to be taken literally in alchemical recipes but are to be understood symbolically and are cryptic designations for common mineral substances. Thus Berthelot cites a passage from the Latin De anima, ascribed to Avicenna, which says, “I am going to tell you a secret: the eye of a man or bull or cow or deer signifies mercury,” and so on.[3040] But despite what Berthelot goes on to say about the “old prophetic nomenclature” of the Egyptians, I am inclined to think that such symbolism is mainly a refinement of later alchemists, and that originally most such expressions were intended literally. Certainly it would be impossible to explain all the medicinal use of parts of animals in Pliny’s Natural History as either symbolic or derived from the Egyptian priests. Like the suggestion that Roger Bacon[Pg 767] wrote in cipher, the symbolic nomenclature theory is based on the assumption that the men of old concealed great secrets under an appearance of error. And where such cryptograms and symbols were employed, it was almost invariably done, we may be sure, with the object of impressing the reader with an exaggerated notion of the importance of what was written rather than because the writer really had any great discovery that he wished to conceal. That symbolic language was employed by alchemists, especially in the latest middle age and early modern centuries, is not to be questioned. The use of the names of the planets for the corresponding metals is a familiar example. But most such symbolic nomenclature is equally obvious, while there is no reason for not taking the use of parts of animals literally. Indeed, in many passages it must be so taken, as in a later item of the Mappe Clavicula[3041] which has no concern with alchemy and where in order to poison an arrow for use in battle, we are instructed to dip it in the sweat from the right side of a horse between the hip-bones. The following experiments with goats also illustrate the great value set upon animal fluids and substances.

It has sometimes been argued, mainly by people who didn’t understand how universally animal parts were seen as having great virtue in ancient and medieval science and their use as remedies during those times, that they shouldn’t be taken literally in alchemical recipes but rather understood symbolically as cryptic terms for common minerals. For example, Berthelot cites a passage from the Latin De anima, attributed to Avicenna, which states, “I’m going to tell you a secret: the eye of a man, bull, cow, or deer means mercury,” and so on.[3040] However, despite Berthelot's comments on the “old prophetic terms” of the Egyptians, I believe that such symbolism is mostly a later refinement by alchemists and that originally most of these expressions were meant literally. It would certainly be impossible to explain all of the medicinal uses of animal parts in Pliny’s Natural History as either symbolic or derived from Egyptian priests. Like the notion that Roger Bacon[Pg 767] wrote in code, the symbolic nomenclature theory presumes that people in the past hid significant secrets behind a façade of errors. When such symbols and codes were used, it was almost always intended to make the reader think that the text was more important than it really was, rather than because the writer had some significant discovery to hide. That alchemists used symbolic language, particularly in the late Middle Ages and early modern periods, is undeniable. The use of planetary names for corresponding metals is a common example. But most of this symbolic naming is quite clear, and there’s no reason not to take the use of animal parts literally. In fact, in many instances it must be taken literally, as seen in a later entry of the Mappe Clavicula[3041] which is unrelated to alchemy, where to poison an arrow for battle, we are told to dip it in sweat from the right side of a horse between the hip bones. The following experiments with goats also illustrate the high value placed on animal fluids and substances.

Magical procedure with goats in the Mappe Clavicula.

We are reminded of the directions given by Marcellus Empiricus for the preparation of goat’s blood by a recipe for making figures of crystal which occurs near the close of the Mappe Clavicida.[3042] A he-goat which has never indulged in sexual intercourse is to be shut up in a cask for three days until he has completely digested everything that he had in his belly. He is then to be fed on ivy for four days, at the end of which time he is to be slain and his blood mixed with his urine which is now collected from the cask. By soaking the crystal overnight in this mixture it can be moulded or carved at will. This experiment is immediately preceded by a somewhat similar procedure for cutting glass with steel.[3043] The glass is to be softened and the steel is to be tempered by placing them either in the milk of a Saracen[Pg 768] she-goat, who has been fed upon ivy and milked by scratching her udders with nettles, or in the lotion of a small girl of ruddy complexion, which must be taken before sunrise.

We are reminded of the instructions given by Marcellus Empiricus for preparing goat’s blood, which is included in a recipe for making crystal figures found near the end of the Mappe Clavicida. A male goat that has never mated should be kept in a barrel for three days until he fully digests all the food in his stomach. After that, he should be fed ivy for four days, and at the end of this period, he is to be killed, with his blood mixed with the urine collected from the barrel. By soaking the crystal overnight in this mixture, it can be shaped or carved as desired. This process is quickly followed by a similar method for cutting glass with steel. The glass should be softened, and the steel should be tempered by placing them either in the milk of a Saracen she-goat, which has been fed ivy and milked by scratching her udders with nettles, or in the lotion from a small girl with a rosy complexion, which must be collected before sunrise.

Similar passages in Heraclius.

Very similar passages are found in the works of Heraclius and Theophilus, the former of whom gives the following directions for glass engraving: “Oh! all you artists who wish to engrave glass correctly, now I will show you just as I myself have proven. I sought the fat worms which the plow turns up from the earth, and the useful art in such matters bade me at the same time seek vinegar and the hot blood of a huge he-goat, which I had taken pains to tie up under cover and to feed on strong ivy for a while. Next I mixed the worms and vinegar with the warm blood and anointed all the bright shining phial. This done, I tried to engrave the glass with the hard stone called pyrites.”[3044] In another passage Heraclius recommends the use of the urine and blood of a goat in engraving gems,[3045] and he also states that the blood of a goat makes crystal easier to carve.[3046]

Very similar passages are found in the works of Heraclius and Theophilus, the former of whom gives the following directions for glass engraving: “Hey, all you artists who want to engrave glass properly, now I’ll show you just like I’ve done. I looked for the fat worms that the plow brings up from the ground, and the practical side of things told me to also look for vinegar and the hot blood of a big male goat, which I made sure to tie up and feed on strong ivy for a while. Then I mixed the worms and vinegar with the warm blood and coated all the shiny glass vial with it. Once that was done, I tried to engrave the glass with a hard stone called pyrites.”[3044] In another passage, Heraclius suggests using the urine and blood of a goat for engraving gems,[3045] and he also mentions that goat's blood makes crystal easier to carve.[3046]

And Theophilus.

Theophilus states that poets and artificers have greatly cherished the ivy, “because they recognized the occult powers which it contains within itself.”[3047] He also affirms that the blood of a goat makes crystal easier to carve, but he recommends the blood of a living goat two or three years old and repeated insertion of the crystal in an incision between the animal’s breast and abdomen.[3048] He also recommends a somewhat similar procedure to that of the Mappe Clavicula with a goat and a cask.[3049] In this case the goat should be three years old, and after being bound for three[Pg 769] days without food should be fed for two days on nothing but fern. The following night he should be shut up in a cask with holes in the bottom through which his urine can be collected in another vessel for two or three nights, when the goat may be released and the urine employed to temper iron tools. Or the urine of a small red-headed boy may be employed, as it is better for tempering than plain water. Indeed, both Theophilus and Heraclius make much use of parts of animals in the arts: various animals’ teeth to shine and polish things with, horse dung mixed with clay, skins and bladders, saliva and ear-wax to polish niello, and so forth.

Theophilus mentions that poets and craftsmen have long valued ivy “because they recognized the hidden powers it holds.” [3047] He also claims that goat blood makes it easier to carve crystal, but he suggests using the blood from a living goat that is two or three years old and repeatedly inserting the crystal into a cut between the animal’s chest and stomach. [3048] He recommends a procedure similar to that in the Mappe Clavicula involving a goat and a barrel. [3049] In this case, the goat should be three years old, and after being tied up for three days without food, it should be fed only fern for two days. That night, it should be confined in a barrel with holes in the bottom to collect its urine in another container for two or three nights, after which the goat can be released and the urine used to temper iron tools. Alternatively, the urine of a small red-headed boy can be used, as it is better for tempering than plain water. In fact, both Theophilus and Heraclius extensively use animal parts in their crafts: various animal teeth for shining and polishing, horse dung mixed with clay, skins and bladders, and saliva and earwax to polish niello, among other things.

A magic figure.

Returning to the Mappe Clavicula we note the employment of a magic figure called arragab, which Berthelot thinks is a small lead image.[3050] By means of it the flow of a spring may be stopped; a cup may be made either to retain or to empty its contents; if the cows drink first from the trough, there will be enough water for both the cows and the horses, but if the horses drink first, there will not be enough for either. The same figure enables one to fill a pitcher from a cask without diminishing the amount of liquid in the cask, or to construct a lamp which will produce phantoms. It also makes soldiers leave their camp without their spears and yet return with them. After this flight into the realm of magic we come back to a more plausibly physical basis for marvels in a description of four revolving hoops or circles within which a vessel may be revolved in any direction without spilling its contents.[3051]

Returning to the Mappe Clavicula, we note the use of a magical figure called arragab, which Berthelot believes is a small lead image. [3050] With it, the flow of a spring can be stopped; a cup can be made to either hold or empty its contents. If the cows drink from the trough first, there will be enough water for both the cows and the horses, but if the horses drink first, there won't be enough for either. This same figure allows someone to fill a pitcher from a cask without reducing the amount of liquid left in the cask, or to create a lamp that generates phantoms. It also makes soldiers leave their camp without their spears and yet return with them. After this dive into the realm of magic, we return to a more believable physical basis for wonders with a description of four revolving hoops or circles, within which a vessel can be turned in any direction without spilling its contents. [3051]

Use of an incantation in tenth century alchemy.

The passages which we have just noted in the Mappe Clavicula cannot be surely traced back earlier than the twelfth century version of it and do not appear in the table of contents which is preserved in the tenth century Schlestadt manuscript and which covers only a portion of the chapters of the twelfth century manuscript, but also some[Pg 770] other chapters which are not extant. But that magic was not entirely absent from the earlier version to which this table of contents seems to apply is evidenced by the fact that one of the chapter headings dealing with the fabrication of gold mentions a prayer or incantation to be recited during the process.[3052]

The sections we just mentioned in the Mappe Clavicula can only be traced back to the twelfth-century version and do not show up in the table of contents found in the tenth-century Schlestadt manuscript, which only covers part of the chapters in the twelfth-century manuscript, along with some other chapters that no longer exist. However, it's clear that magic wasn't entirely missing from the earlier version related to this table of contents, as shown by one of the chapter titles about creating gold, which refers to a prayer or incantation to be said during the process. [Pg 770]

Experimental character of the work of Theophilus.

The great importance of the work of Theophilus in the history of art is too generally recognized to need elaboration here. Our purpose is rather to point out that in it information of great value is found side by side with a considerable amount of misguided natural theory and magical ceremony. The stress laid by Theophilus upon personal observation, experience, and experimental method should not, however, pass unnoticed. He has scrutinized the works of art in the church of St. Sophia one by one “with diligent experience,” has tested everything by eye and hand, has as a “curious explorer” made all sorts of experiments, and appears to represent transparent stained glass as his own discovery or idea.[3053] Nor is he the only experimenter; he also speaks of “modern workmen” who deceive many incautious persons by their imitation of the appearance of most precious Arabian gold which “is frequently found employed in the most ancient vases.”[3054]

The significant impact of Theophilus's work on art history is widely acknowledged and doesn’t need much explanation here. Instead, we aim to highlight that it contains valuable information alongside some misguided natural theories and magical practices. The emphasis Theophilus places on personal observation, experience, and experimental methods shouldn't go unnoticed. He has closely examined the artworks in the church of St. Sophia one by one, applying “diligent experience,” testing everything by eye and hand, and as a “curious explorer,” conducting various experiments. He even seems to claim the invention or idea of transparent stained glass as his own.[3053] He’s not the only one experimenting; he also mentions “modern workers” who mislead many unsuspecting individuals by imitating the look of highly prized Arabian gold that “is frequently found in the most ancient vases.”[3054]

How to make Spanish gold.

Theophilus, however, believes that other metals can really be transmuted into gold, and we may repeat his amusing account of how Spanish gold “is made from red copper[Pg 771] and powdered basilisk and human blood and vinegar.” “For the Gentiles, whose skill in this art is well known, create basilisks in this wise. They have an underground chamber completely walled in on all sides with stone, and with two windows so small as scarcely to admit any light. In this they put two cocks of twelve or fifteen years and give them plenty of food. These, when they have grown fat, from the heat of their fat have commerce together and lay eggs. As soon as the eggs are laid the cocks are ejected and toads are put in to sit on the eggs and are fed upon bread. When the eggs are hatched chicks come forth who look like young roosters, but after seven days they grow serpents’ tails and would straightway burrow into the ground, were the chamber not paved with stone. Guarding against this, their masters have round brazen vessels of great amplitude, perforated on all sides, with narrow mouths, in which they put the chicks and close the mouths with copper covers and bury them underground, and the chicks are nourished for six months by the subtle earth which enters through the perforations. After this they uncover them and apply a strong fire until the beasts within are totally consumed. When this is over and it has cooled off, they remove and carefully pulverize them, adding a third part of the blood of a ruddy man, which blood is dried and powdered. Having compounded these two they temper them with strong vinegar in a clean vessel; then they take very thin plates of the purest red copper and spread this mixture over them on both sides and place them in the fire. And when they grow white hot, they take them out and quench and wash them in the same mixture, and this process they repeat until the mixture has eaten through the copper, and so obtain the weight and color of gold. This gold is suited for all operations.”[3055]

Theophilus, however, believes that other metals can actually be turned into gold, and we can repeat his entertaining description of how Spanish gold “is made from red copper[Pg 771] and powdered basilisk and human blood and vinegar.” “For the Gentiles, who are well-known for their skill in this art, create basilisks in this way. They have an underground chamber completely walled in with stone, and with two windows so small that barely any light comes in. In this space, they place two roosters aged twelve or fifteen years and feed them well. Once they are fat, due to the warmth from their fat, they mate and lay eggs. As soon as the eggs are laid, the roosters are removed and toads are put in to sit on the eggs, being fed on bread. When the eggs hatch, chicks appear that look like young roosters, but after seven days, they grow tails like serpents and would immediately burrow into the ground if the chamber weren’t paved with stone. To prevent this, their masters have large round brass vessels with holes all over and narrow openings, where they place the chicks and seal the openings with copper covers, then bury them underground. The chicks are nourished for six months by the nutrients from the earth that enter through the holes. After this period, they dig them up and apply a strong fire until the creatures inside are completely consumed. Once this is done and it cools down, they remove and carefully grind them up, adding one-third of the dried and powdered blood of a ruddy man. After mixing these, they combine them with strong vinegar in a clean container; next, they take very thin sheets of the purest red copper and coat both sides with this mixture before placing them in the fire. When they turn white-hot, they take them out, quench them, and wash them in the same mixture, repeating this process until the mixture has corroded the copper enough to achieve the weight and color of gold. This gold is suitable for all operations.”[3055]

The question of symbolic terminology again.

Mr. Hendrie held that Theophilus was here describing in symbolic language a process “for procuring pure gold by the means of the mineral acids;” and that “the toads of[Pg 772] Theophilus which hatch the eggs are probably fragments of the mineral salt, nitrate of potash; ... the blood of a red man ... probably a nitrate of ammonia; fine earth, a muriate of soda (common salt); the cocks, the sulphates of copper and iron; the eggs, gold ore; the hatched chickens, which require a stone pavement, sulphuric acid produced by burning these in a stone vessel, collecting the fumes.... The elements of nitro-muriatic acid are all here, the solvent for gold.”[3056] Mr. Hendrie leaves, however, a number of details unexplained and he admits that “Unfortunately each chemist appears to have varied the symbols in use.” Certainly one would have to vary them in almost every case to make any sense out of such procedures as this of Theophilus. On the other hand, there is nothing very surprising in his procedure taken literally to one who is acquainted with the beliefs of ancient and medieval science and magic. And certainly Shakespeare’s line concerning the precious jewel in the toad’s head, which Hendrie quotes in this connection, is much more likely to be meant literally than to be the symbolic “jargon of the alchemist.” Later we shall hear again from Alexander Neckam, in a passage which has no connection with alchemy, of the basilisk hatched by a toad from an egg laid by a cock, and we shall hear from Albertus Magnus of an experiment in which a toad’s eye was proved superior in virtue to an emerald.

Mr. Hendrie believed that Theophilus was describing, in symbolic language, a process for obtaining pure gold using mineral acids. He thought that “the toads of Theophilus that hatch the eggs are probably bits of mineral salt, nitrate of potash; ... the blood of a red man ... likely a nitrate of ammonia; fine earth, a muriate of soda (common salt); the cocks, the sulfates of copper and iron; the eggs, gold ore; the hatched chicks, which need a stone pavement, sulfuric acid produced by burning these in a stone container, capturing the fumes.... The components of nitro-muriatic acid are all present here, the solvent for gold.” Mr. Hendrie, however, leaves several details unclear and admits that “Unfortunately, each chemist seems to have changed the symbols in use.” Clearly, one would need to alter them in almost every case to make any sense of such processes as those of Theophilus. On the other hand, there’s nothing particularly surprising in his method when taken literally by someone familiar with the beliefs of ancient and medieval science and magic. And certainly, Shakespeare's line about the precious jewel in the toad’s head, which Hendrie references here, is much more likely meant literally than as the symbolic “jargon of the alchemist.” Later, we will hear from Alexander Neckam, in a passage unrelated to alchemy, about the basilisk hatched by a toad from an egg laid by a cock, and we will hear from Albertus Magnus about an experiment in which a toad’s eye was found to be more valuable than an emerald.

Alchemy in the eleventh century.

The treatises which we have been considering appear, at least for the most part, to antedate the Latin translations of works of alchemy from the Arabic, although it is possible that, just as the first translations of mathematical and astronomical works from the Arabic go back to the tenth century at least, so the reception of Arabic alchemy may have begun in a small way before the twelfth century. At any rate we find that in the eleventh century not only were Michael Psellus and other Byzantine scholars spreading the doctrines of alchemy,[3057] but a scholium to Adam of Bremen[Pg 773] records the presence at the court of Bishop Adalbert of Bremen of an alchemist in the person of a baptized Jew.[3058]

The treatises we've been discussing seem, for the most part, to have been written before the Latin translations of alchemical works from Arabic. However, it's possible that, just as the earliest translations of mathematical and astronomical texts from Arabic date back to at least the tenth century, the introduction of Arabic alchemy might have started in a small way before the twelfth century. In any case, we see that in the eleventh century, not only were Michael Psellus and other Byzantine scholars promoting the ideas of alchemy, but a note in Adam of Bremen[Pg 773] mentions that there was an alchemist at the court of Bishop Adalbert of Bremen who was a baptized Jew.

St. Dunstan and alchemy and magic.

To St. Dunstan, the famous abbot of Glastonbury, archbishop of Canterbury, and statesman of the tenth century (924 or 925 to 988), is attributed a treatise on the philosopher’s stone contained in a Corpus Christi manuscript of the fifteenth century at Oxford and printed at Cassel in 1649. No genuine works by him seem to be extant, however, but it is interesting to note that along with his reputation for learning and mechanical skill went the association of his name with magic. In his studious youth he was accused of magic, driven from court, and thrown into a muddy pond. His contemporary biographer also narrates how the devil appeared to him in various animal and other terrifying forms. His favorite studies were mathematics and music, and he was said to own a magic harp which played while hanging by itself on the wall.[3059]

To St. Dunstan, the well-known abbot of Glastonbury, archbishop of Canterbury, and statesman of the 10th century (924 or 925 to 988), is credited a treatise on the philosopher’s stone found in a Corpus Christi manuscript from the 15th century at Oxford and printed in Cassel in 1649. However, no authentic works by him appear to still exist. It's interesting to note that, alongside his reputation for intelligence and craftsmanship, his name was linked with magic. In his studious youth, he was accused of practicing magic, banished from court, and thrown into a muddy pond. His contemporary biographer also recounts how the devil showed up to him in various animal and other frightening forms. His favorite subjects were mathematics and music, and he was said to have owned a magical harp that played on its own while hanging on the wall.[3059]

Introduction of Arabic alchemy in the twelfth century.

Berthelot has associated the introduction of Arabic alchemy into Christian western Europe with the Latin translation by Robert of Chester of The Book of Morienus, but incorrectly dated it in 1182 A. D.,[3060] whereas the mention of that date in the manuscripts has reference to the Spanish era and denotes the year 1144 A. D.[3061] The main reason for regarding Robert’s translation as one of the earliest is that he remarks in his preface, “What alchemy is and what is its composition, your Latin world does not yet know truly.” Of the work translated by Robert we shall treat more fully in a later chapter on Hermetic Books in the Middle Ages. Here we may further note the existence of a work[Pg 774] of alchemy in another twelfth century manuscript.[3062] It is a brief work in four chapters and its superstitious character may be inferred from its opening instruction to “take four hundred hen’s eggs laid in the month of March,” and its citation of Artesius concerning divination by the reflection or refraction of the sun’s rays or moon-beams in liquids or a mirror. Since the treatise bears the title Alchamia, it is probably safe to assume that it represents Arabic influence.

Berthelot linked the introduction of Arabic alchemy into Christian Western Europe to Robert of Chester's Latin translation of The Book of Morienus, but he mistakenly dated it to 1182 A.D., whereas the mention of that date in the manuscripts refers to the Spanish era, indicating the year 1144 A.D. The main reason for considering Robert’s translation as one of the earliest is that he notes in his preface, “What alchemy is and what its composition is, your Latin world does not yet truly know.” We will discuss the work translated by Robert in more detail in a later chapter on Hermetic Books in the Middle Ages. Here, we can also point out the existence of a work on alchemy in another twelfth-century manuscript. It is a short text in four chapters, and its superstitious nature can be inferred from its opening instruction to “take four hundred hen’s eggs laid in the month of March,” and its reference to Artesius regarding divination by the reflection or refraction of the sun’s rays or moonbeams in liquids or a mirror. Since the treatise is titled Alchamia, it is likely that it shows Arabic influence.


[Pg 775]

[Pg 775]

CHAPTER XXXIV
MARBOD, BISHOP OF RENNES, 1035—1123

Career of Marbod—Relation of his Liber lapidum to the prose Evax—Problem of Marbod’s sources—Influence of the Liber lapidum—Occult virtue of gems—Liber lapidum meant seriously—De fato et genesi.

Career of Marbod—Connection of his Liber lapidum to the prose Evax—Issue of Marbod’s sources—Impact of the Liber lapidum—Hidden power of gems—Liber lapidum taken seriously—De fato et genesi.

Nec dubium cuiquam debet falsumque videri
Quin sua sit gemmis divinitus insita virtus;
Ingens est herbis virtus data, maxima gemmis.
Marbod, Liber lapidum.
Career of Marbod.

Of medieval Latin Lapidaries the earliest and what also seems to have been the classic on the subject of the marvelous properties of stones is the Liber lapidum seu de gemmis by Marbod, bishop of Rennes,[3063] who lived from 1035 to 1123 and so had very likely completed this work before the close of the eleventh century. Indeed one manuscript of it seems to date from that century[3064] and there are numerous twelfth century manuscripts. These early manuscripts bear his name and the style is the same as in his other writings. Born in the county of Anjou, Marbod attended the church[Pg 776] school there, became the schoolmaster himself from 1067 to 1081, during which time he probably composed the Liber lapidum, then served as archdeacon under three successive bishops, and finally himself became a bishop in 1096. He attended church councils in 1103 and 1104 and died in September, 1123, in an Angevin monastery, whose monks issued a eulogistic encyclical letter on that occasion, while two archdeacons celebrated his integrity, learning, and eloquence in admiring verse. Marbod’s own productions are also in poetical form. It is interesting to note that despite his early date he was eulogized not as a lone man of letters in an uncultured age but as “the king of orators, although at that time all Gaul resounded with varied studies.”

Of medieval Latin lapidaries, the earliest and what seems to be the classic source on the remarkable properties of stones is the Liber lapidum seu de gemmis by Marbod, the bishop of Rennes, who lived from 1035 to 1123, and likely finished this work before the end of the eleventh century. In fact, one manuscript of it appears to come from that century, and there are many manuscripts from the twelfth century. These early manuscripts carry his name, and the style matches that of his other writings. Born in the county of Anjou, Marbod attended the church school there and became the schoolmaster himself from 1067 to 1081, during which time he probably wrote the Liber lapidum. He then served as archdeacon under three successive bishops before becoming a bishop in 1096. He participated in church councils in 1103 and 1104 and died in September 1123 in an Angevin monastery, whose monks published a eulogistic encyclical letter on his passing, while two archdeacons praised his integrity, learning, and eloquence in admiring verse. Marbod's own works are also in poetic form. It's interesting to observe that despite his early timeframe, he was celebrated not as a solitary intellectual in an unrefined era but as “the king of orators,” even though at that time all of Gaul was buzzing with diverse studies.

Relation of the Liber lapidum to the prose Evax.

The Liber lapidum is a Latin poem of 734 hexameters describing sixty stones. In the opening lines Marbod writes:

The Liber lapidum is a Latin poem with 734 hexameters that describes sixty stones. In the opening lines, Marbod writes:

“Evax, king of the Arabs, is said to have written to Nero,
Who after Augustus ruled next in the city.[3065]
How many the species of stones, what names, and what colors,
From what regions they came, and how great the power of each one.”

Making use of this worthy book, Marbod has decided to compose a briefer account for himself and a few friends only, believing that he who popularizes mysteries lessens their majesty. As a result of this opening line and the fact that in some manuscripts Marbod’s own name is not given, his poem is sometimes listed in the catalogues as the work of Evax.[3066] There is also, however, extant a work in Latin[Pg 777] prose which opens, “Evax, king of Arabia, to the emperor Tiberius greeting.”[3067] But as this prose work is not much longer than Marbod’s poem, and seems to be known only from a single manuscript of the fourteenth century, it is doubtful if it is the work which he professed to abbreviate. This prose work is also ascribed to Amigeron or Damigeron,[3068] to whom we have already seen that the author of Lithica was supposed to be indebted and whose name was regarded as that of a famous magician. After alluding to the magnificent gifts which the emperor had sent to Evax by the centurion Lucinius Fronto and offering this book in return, the author of the prose version lists seven stones appropriate, not, strangely enough, to the seven planets, but to seven of the signs of the zodiac.[3069] Fifty chapters are then devoted to as many stones, beginning with Aetites, which is twenty-fifth in Marbod’s list, and ending with Sardo, while Sardius comes tenth in Marbod’s poem. Marbod’s own order, however, sometimes varies in the manuscripts.[3070]

Using this valuable book, Marbod has chosen to write a shorter version just for himself and a few friends, thinking that revealing secrets takes away their greatness. Due to this opening line and the fact that in some manuscripts Marbod’s name isn’t mentioned, his poem is sometimes credited in catalogs to Evax.[3066] There is also a Latin prose work that starts with, “Evax, king of Arabia, to the emperor Tiberius, greetings.”[3067] But since this prose work is not much longer than Marbod’s poem and seems to be known only from a single 14th-century manuscript, it’s uncertain if it’s the piece he intended to summarize. This prose work is also attributed to Amigeron or Damigeron,[3068] to whom we’ve already noted the author of Lithica was thought to owe a debt, and whose name was considered that of a famous magician. After mentioning the wonderful gifts the emperor sent to Evax through the centurion Lucinius Fronto and offering this book in exchange, the author of the prose version lists seven stones that are related, surprisingly, not to the seven planets, but to seven zodiac signs.[3069] Fifty chapters follow, each dedicated to a stone, starting with Aetites, which is the twenty-fifth in Marbod’s list, and finishing with Sardo, while Sardius appears tenth in Marbod’s poem. Marbod’s own order, however, sometimes differs in the manuscripts.[3070]

Problem of Marbod’s sources.

King, and Rose after him, asserted[3071] that despite Marbod’s professed abridgement of a work which Evax was supposed to have presented to Tiberius, he drew largely from Isidore of Seville’s Etymologies. Rose thought that some of the descriptions of stones were from Solinus, the rest from Isidore, but that the account of their virtues was from Evax. King also noted occasional extracts from the Orphic work, Lithica, which is not surprising in view of the fact that both Evax and the Lithica seem based on Damigeron. This question of sources and ultimate origins is, however, as usual of relatively little moment to our investigation. My own impression would be that in antiquity and the middle age[Pg 778] there exists a sort of common fund of information and stock of beliefs concerning gems which naturally is drawn upon and appears in every individual treatise upon them. But the number of gems discussed and the order in which they are considered or classified varies with each new author, and there is apt to be a similar variation in the number of statements made concerning any particular stone and the way in which these are arranged. In fine, all ancient and medieval accounts of the natures and virtues of stones bear a general resemblance to one another which is more impressive than is the similarity between any two given accounts, and testify to a consensus of opinion and to a common learned tradition concerning gems which is more significant than the possible borrowings of individual authors from one another.

King, followed by Rose, claimed that even though Marbod supposedly summarized a work that Evax was meant to present to Tiberius, he heavily relied on Isidore of Seville’s Etymologies. Rose believed some descriptions of stones came from Solinus, the rest from Isidore, but the information on their properties was from Evax. King also pointed out occasional excerpts from the Orphic work, Lithica, which makes sense since both Evax and Lithica seem to have roots in Damigeron. However, the issue of sources and original origins is, as usual, not particularly relevant to our investigation. My impression is that in antiquity and the Middle Ages, there was a sort of shared pool of information and common beliefs about gems that everyone drew from, which appears in every individual text on the subject. The number of gems discussed and the order in which they are examined or categorized differs with each new author, and there's often a similar variation in the amount of information provided about any given stone and how it’s organized. Ultimately, all ancient and medieval accounts of the characteristics and properties of stones have a general similarity that is more striking than the resemblance between any two specific accounts, reflecting a shared opinion and a common scholarly tradition about gems that matters more than individual authors borrowing from one another.

Influence of the Liber lapidum.

However, there seems to be little doubt that the poem of Marbod is itself an outstanding work among medieval accounts of precious stones, first because of the early date of its authorship, and second because of its late persistence and popularity, which is indicated by the fourteen editions that appeared after the invention of printing.[3072] Its convenient form perhaps accounts to a considerable extent for its popularity. At any rate the manuscripts of it are numerous, and it was much used by subsequent writers of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, although citations of Lapidarius cannot always be assumed to refer to Marbod. But at least the notions concerning gems which we find in his poem are a fair sample of what we should find in any Latin treatment of the same subject for several centuries to come. It is found also in a medieval French version.

However, there seems to be little doubt that Marbod's poem is an exceptional work among medieval writings about precious stones, first because it was written early, and second due to its lasting popularity, as shown by the fourteen editions that were published after the invention of printing.[3072] Its handy format likely contributed significantly to its popularity. In any case, there are many manuscripts of it, and it was frequently referenced by later writers from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, although references to Lapidarius can’t always be assumed to point to Marbod. Still, the ideas about gems found in his poem are a good representation of what we would expect in any Latin discussions on the same topic for several centuries afterwards. It is also available in a medieval French version.

Occult virtue of gems.

It does not make much difference where we begin or what stones we select from Marbod’s list as examples, since the same sort of marvelous powers are ascribed to all of them. In his prologue Marbod describes the occult virtues of gems as those “whose hidden cause gives manifest effects.” No one should doubt them or think them false,[Pg 779] “since the virtue in gems is divinely implanted. Enormous virtue is given to herbs, but the greatest to gems.”

It doesn’t really matter where we start or which stones we pick from Marbod’s list as examples because they all have similar amazing powers attributed to them. In his prologue, Marbod describes the hidden qualities of gems as those “whose hidden cause gives visible effects.” No one should doubt them or think they’re fake, [Pg 779] “since the power in gems is divinely given. Herbs have great power, but gems have the greatest.”

Adamant, hard as it is, cracks when heated with goat’s blood. It counteracts the action of the magnet. It is used in the magic arts and makes its bearer indomitable. It drives off nocturnal specters and idle dreams. It routs black venom, heals quarrels and contentions, cures the insane, and repels fierce foes.

Adamant, even though it's extremely tough, breaks when heated with goat’s blood. It opposes the effects of magnets. It's used in magic and makes whoever possesses it unbeatable. It helps to chase away nighttime spirits and unwanted dreams. It drives away poison, resolves conflicts and disputes, heals the insane, and wards off fierce enemies.

Allectory, found inside cocks, slakes thirst. Milo overcame other athletes, and kings have won battles by its aid. It restores promptly those who have been banished, enables orators to speak with a flow of language, makes one welcome on every occasion, and endears a wife to her husband. It is advised to carry it concealed in the mouth.

Allectory, found inside roosters, quenches thirst. Milo defeated other athletes, and kings have achieved victories with its help. It quickly restores those who have been expelled, allows speakers to express themselves fluently, makes one popular in every situation, and strengthens a wife's bond with her husband. It is recommended to keep it hidden in the mouth.

The sapphire nourishes the body and preserves the limbs whole. Its bearer, who should be most chaste, cannot be harmed by fraud or envy and is unmoved by any terror. It leads those in bonds from prison. It placates God and makes Him favorable to prayers. It is good for peace-making and reconciliation. It is preferred to other gems in hydromancy, since prophetic responses can be obtained by it. As for medicinal qualities, it cools internal heat, checks perspiration, powdered and applied with milk it heals ulcers, cleanses the eyes, stops headache, and cures diseases of the tongue.

The sapphire nourishes the body and keeps the limbs intact. Its wearer, who should be very pure, cannot be harmed by deceit or jealousy and remains unaffected by fear. It frees those who are imprisoned. It appeases God and makes Him receptive to prayers. It's beneficial for making peace and reconciliation. It is preferred over other gems in water divination, as it offers prophetic insights. When it comes to healing properties, it cools internal heat, reduces sweating, and when powdered and mixed with milk, it heals ulcers, cleanses the eyes, alleviates headaches, and treats tongue diseases.

Gagates, worn as an amulet, benefits dropsy; diluted with water, it prevents loose teeth from falling out; fumigation with it is good for epileptics and it is thought to be hostile to demons; it remedies indigestion and constipation and overcomes magical illusions (praestigia) and evil incantations. Also

Gagates, worn as an amulet, helps with dropsy; when diluted with water, it prevents loose teeth from falling out; fumigating with it is beneficial for epileptics, and it's believed to ward off demons; it also helps with indigestion and constipation and counters magical illusions and evil spells. Also

Per suffumigium mulieri menstrua reddit

Et solet, ut perhibent, deprehendere virginitatem.
Praegnans potest aquam triduo qua mersus habetur
Quo vexabatur partum cito libera fundit.

Gagates burns when washed with water; is extinguished by anointing it with olive oil.

Gagates burns when it's washed with water; it's put out by rubbing it with olive oil.

[Pg 780]

[Pg 780]

The magnet is especially used in the illusions of magic. The great Deendor is said to have first used it, realizing that there was no more potent force in magic, and after him the famous witch Circe employed it. Among the Medes experience revealed still further virtues of the stone. It is used to test a wife’s chastity while she is sleeping; if she is unchaste, she will fall out of bed when the gem is applied to her head. A burglar can commit theft unmolested by sprinkling it over hot coals and so driving away all the occupants of the house.

The magnet is especially used in magic illusions. The great Deendor is said to have been the first to use it, realizing that there was no more powerful force in magic. After him, the famous witch Circe used it as well. Among the Medes, experience revealed even more benefits of the stone. It is used to test a wife's fidelity while she sleeps; if she's unfaithful, she'll fall out of bed when the gem is applied to her head. A burglar can steal without being noticed by sprinkling it over hot coals, causing everyone in the house to leave.

In the case of Chelonitis Marbod’s account is very similar to that in Pliny’s Natural History,[3073] citing the Magi for the power of divination it bestows when carried under the tongue at certain times of the moon, according to whose phases its power varies. Of the gems hitherto described only in the case of adamant and gagates was there any resemblance between Marbod and Pliny and there only partial.

In the case of Chelonitis, Marbod’s account is very similar to that in Pliny’s Natural History,[3073] citing the Magi for the power of divination it provides when carried under the tongue at certain times of the moon, with its power changing according to the moon's phases. Of the gems described so far, only with adamant and gagates was there any similarity between Marbod and Pliny, and it was only partial.

Pliny also briefly states that the stone diadochos resembles beryl, but does not have Marbod’s statements that it is employed in water divination to show varied images of demons, “nor is there other stone stronger to evoke shades.” But if by chance it comes in contact with a corpse, it loses its wonted force, since the stone is sacred and abhors dead bodies.[3074]

Pliny also briefly mentions that the stone diadochos looks like beryl, but he doesn’t include Marbod’s claims that it’s used in water divination to reveal different images of demons, “nor is there any other stone as powerful to summon spirits.” However, if it happens to touch a corpse, it loses its usual power, as the stone is sacred and repels dead bodies.[3074]

Liber lapidum was meant to be taken seriously.

The vast powers, not only medicinal and physical, but of divination and magic, over the mind and affections, miraculous and supernatural, even over God, as in the statement that the sapphire can be employed to secure a more favorable answer to prayer, which Marbod assigns to gems without a sign of scruple or scepticism or disapproval on his part, have so shocked some moderns that suggestions have been made, in order to explain away the acceptance of talismanic powers of gems to such a degree by a Christian clergyman who became a bishop, that Marbod must have composed[Pg 781] his poem when quite young and lived to repent it, or that he regarded it merely as a poetical flight and exercise, not as an exposition of scientific fact. But wherefore then was it not only widely read in the literary twelfth century but also widely cited as an authority in the scientific and equally Christian thirteenth century? No; everyone else took it precisely as Marbod meant it, as a serious statement of the marvelous powers which had been divinely implanted in gems. And why should not God be more easily reached through the instrumentality of gems, since He had endowed them with their marvelous virtues? Marbod affirms his own faith in the great virtues of gems not only at the beginning but the close of his poem, stating that while some have doubted the marvelous properties attributed to them, this has been due to the fact that so many imitation gems are made of glass, which deceive the unwary but of course lack the occult virtues of the genuine stones. If the stones are genuine and duly consecrated, the marvelous effects will without a doubt follow.

The immense powers, not just medicinal and physical, but also of divination and magic, over the mind and emotions, miraculous and supernatural, even over God—like the claim that sapphires can help secure a more favorable answer to prayer—are something Marbod assigns to gems without any hint of doubt or disapproval. This has so shocked some modern thinkers that suggestions have been made to explain how a Christian clergyman who became a bishop could accept the talismanic powers of gems to such an extent. They propose that Marbod must have written his poem when he was quite young and later regretted it, or that he saw it merely as a poetic exercise and not as an explanation of scientific truth. But if that were the case, why was it not only widely read in the literary twelfth century but also often cited as an authority in the scientific and equally Christian thirteenth century? No, everyone else took it exactly as Marbod intended, as a serious statement about the marvelous powers that were divinely implanted in gems. And why shouldn’t God be more easily reached through the use of gems, since He endowed them with their incredible virtues? Marbod asserts his own belief in the significant virtues of gems both at the beginning and the end of his poem, noting that while some have questioned the marvelous properties attributed to them, this skepticism stems from the abundance of imitation gems made of glass, which can mislead the unsuspecting but, of course, lack the hidden virtues of real stones. If the stones are genuine and properly consecrated, the marvelous effects will undoubtedly follow.

De fato et genesi.

Marbod’s belief in the almost boundless talismanic virtues of gems is thrown into the higher relief by the fact that in another of his poems he makes an attack upon genethlialogy or the prediction of the entire life of the individual from the constellations at his birth. In De fato et genesi he writes against “the common notion” (opinio vulgi) that all things are ruled by fate, that the hour of nativity controls man’s entire life, and the contention of the mathematici that the seven planets control not only the external forces with which man comes in contact but also human character. He objects to such a doctrine as that, when Venus and Mars appear in certain relations to the sun, the babe born under that constellation will be destined to commit incest and adultery in later life. He objects that such beliefs destroy all the foundations of morality, law, and future reward or punishment; contends that there are certain races which never commit adultery or crime, yet have the same seven planets; and argues that since Jews are all circumcised on[Pg 782] the eighth day, they should all have the same horoscope. These are familiar contentions, at least as old as Bardesanes. Marbod declares further that the astrological writer, Firmicus, employs “infirm arguments,” and that his own horoscope, taken according to Firmicus’ methods and interpreted likewise, turned out to be false, “as I proved when once I dabbled in that art.” This is interesting as showing that Gerard of York[3075] was not the only bishop of the eleventh century who was acquainted with the work of Julius Firmicus Maternus, and that even opponents of astrology are apt to have once been dabblers in it. Marbod concludes his poem with this neat turn:

Marbod's belief in the almost limitless magical properties of gems is highlighted by the fact that in another one of his poems, he criticizes genethlialogy, or predicting a person's entire life based on the stars at their birth. In De fato et genesi, he argues against “the common notion” (opinio vulgi) that everything is governed by fate, that the time of birth dictates a person’s whole life, and the claim of the mathematici that the seven planets not only influence the external forces a person encounters but also shape their character. He disagrees with the idea that if Venus and Mars are in certain positions relative to the sun, a child born under that alignment is doomed to commit incest and adultery later in life. He points out that such beliefs undermine all foundations of morality, law, and the concepts of future rewards or punishments; he argues that there are specific cultures that never commit adultery or crime, yet they share the same seven planets; and he claims that since Jews are all circumcised on the eighth day, they should all have identical horoscopes. These arguments are familiar, dating back at least to Bardesanes. Marbod further asserts that the astrologer Firmicus uses “weak arguments,” and claims that his own horoscope, calculated using Firmicus’ methods and interpretations, turned out to be incorrect, “as I proved when I once dabbled in that art.” This is interesting as it shows that Gerard of York[3075] was not the only bishop in the eleventh century familiar with Julius Firmicus Maternus's work, and even those who oppose astrology often have had some involvement with it. Marbod wraps up his poem with this clever twist:

“I thought I ought to write these lines briefly against genethlialogy.
Nevertheless, that I may not seem to repel fate and horoscope utterly,
I assert that my fate is the Word of the supreme Father,
By Whom should all things be ruled and all men confess;
And I say that the computation of my constellation is innate in me
And the liberty by which I can tend whither I will.
Therefore, if my will shall be in conjunction with reason
In the sign of the Balances with Christ regarding me,
All things will turn out prosperously for me here and everywhere:—
This is the favorable horoscope of all Christ’s followers.”

[Pg 783]

[Pg 783]

GENERAL INDEX

Names of men of learning will be found for the most part in the bibliographical index.

You'll mostly find the names of scholars in the bibliographical index.


[Pg 811]

[Pg 811]

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL INDEX

Names of authors, editors, translators, publishers, etc., in Roman type. Titles and periodicals in italics. Leading passages in italics. Bibliographical abbreviations, such as EB, HL, PG, PL, are as a rule not indexed. In the abbreviated titles such opening words as De and Liber are omitted to facilitate alphabetical arrangement. In proper names De and Von are usually designated by d. and v., and are treated as initials.

Names of authors, editors, translators, publishers, etc., are in Roman type. Titles and journal names are in italics. Leading passages are in italics. Bibliographical abbreviations, like EB, HL, PG, PL, are generally not indexed. In the abbreviated titles, introductory words like De and Liber are left out to make alphabetical sorting easier. In proper names, De and Von are usually marked as d. and v., and are treated as initials.

  • Abammon, 307
  • Abano, Peter of, 162, 179, 409, 600, 610, 651, 665, 710, 714
  • Abdallah, 693
  • Abdias, 425-6
  • Abel, A., 434
  • Abel, E., 291, 293, 463
  • Abelard, Peter, 475, 544
  • Abgarus, 395
  • Abhandlungen d. bayr. Akad., 567-8
  • Abhandlungen d. Berlin Akad., 121, 468, 732
  • Abhandlungen z. Gesch. d. Math. Wiss., 642
  • Abraham the patriarch, reputed book of, 445
  • Abraham, cited by Firmicus, 537
  • Abraham of Tortosa, 611
  • Abt, Apologie d. Apuleius, 22, 239
  • Abu Jafar Ahmed Ibn-al-Jezzar, 745
  • Abu Sa’id Schâdsan, 651
  • Accad. dei Lincei, Rendiconti dell’, 499
  • Accad. di Monaco, Atti dell’, 551
  • Acta Sanctorum, 296
  • Acts of the Apostles, 136, 510
  • Acts (Apocryphal)
  • of Archelaus, 398
  • of Barnabas, 397
  • of John, 397
  • of Nereus and Achilles, 425
  • of Paul, 396
  • of Paul and Thecla, 395
  • of Peter, 405
  • of Peter and Andrew, 396
  • of Peter and Paul, 397, 424
  • of Philip, 397
  • of Pilate, 390, 395
  • of Thomas, 374, 397
  • Adalmus, 673
  • Adam, Moon-Book, 682
  • Adam of Bremen, 773
  • Adam of St. Victor, 398
  • Adams, F., 568
  • Ad-Damîrî, 393, 688
  • Adelard of Bath, 100, 468, 652, 664, 706, 773
  • Adelbold, 706-7
  • Ademarus Cabannensis, 704
  • Adhelmus, see Aldhelm
  • Aelfric, 484, 677
  • Aelian, 238, 300, 322-6, 331
  • Aemilius Macer, 612
  • Aeschrion, 178
  • Aeschylus, 325
  • Aesculapius, 537, 597-8, 600, 735
  • Aesop, 553
  • Aethicus, see Ethicus
  • Aetius of Amida, 163, 170, 292, chap. xxv
  • Agathodaemon, 195
  • Agathias, 575
  • Aggregator, 611
  • Agricola, De re metal., 132, 329
  • Agrippa, H. C., Occult Philosophy, 454, 653
  • Ahrens, K., 497, 499, 503
  • Ajasson, 42
  • Alandraeus, see Alchandrus
  • Albaihaqi, 670
  • Albandinus, 716
  • Alberic the Deacon, 752
  • Albertus Magnus, 158, 163, 326, 600, 658, 725, 772
  • Animal., 503, 563, 746
  • Causis et propriet., 563
  • Mineral., 501, 653
  • Somno et vigilia, 359
  • Speculum astronomiae, 647, 650, 664
  • Veget. et plantis, 653
  • Albucasis, 742
  • Albumasar, 524, 647, 649-52, 691
  • Conjunctions, 649-51
  • Experiments, 649 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Flores, 649-50
  • Greater Introduction, 649
  • Lesser Introduction, 652
  • Mysteries, 651
  • Rains, 651-2
  • Revolutions, 651
  • Sadan, 651
  • Searching of the Heart, 649
  • Alchadrinus or Alchandrinus, see Alchandrus
  • Alchandrus, 710-19
  • Breviary, 714ff.
  • Mathematica, 710ff.
  • Alchamia, 774
  • Alchimus, 601
  • Alcibiades, see Helxai, Book of
  • Alcuin, 556, 617, 658
  • Aldhelm, 636
  • Aldus, see Medici antiqui
  • Alexander the Great, 331, 578
  • astrological treatises, 712ff.
  • Mirabilibus Indiae, 555-6, 564
  • Responsio ad Dindimum, 556
  • Alexander of Aphrodisias, 578
  • Alexander Polyhistor, 341
  • Alexander of Tralles, chap. xxv, 137-8, 174, 596, 721, 747
  • Alexandre, Oracula Sibyllina, 287
  • Alexis, Mandragorizomene, 22
  • Alfanus, 752-3
  • Al-Farabi, 744
  • Alfraganus, 737
  • Alfred the Great, king, 637
  • Algazel, 744
  • Alhabib, Book of, 763
  • Alhandreus, see Alchandrus
  • Ali ibn Abbas, Khitaab el Maleki, 747
  • Alkindi, chap xxviii
  • Deceits of Alchemists, 649
  • Empire of Arabs, 648
  • Judgments, 648
  • Geomancy, 648
  • Pluviis, 647-8
  • Properties of Swords, 649
  • Somno et visione, 646
  • Spectaculis, 642
  • Stellar Rays, 643-6
  • Allard, P., 298
  • Alma, J. d’, 349
  • Alphita, 600
  • Alte Orient, 7, 33-5
  • Amatus of Salerno, 752
  • Ambrose, 426, 447, 494, 499, 505, 686
  • Hexaemeron, 482-3, 485
  • Moribus Brachmannorum, 557
  • Amélineau, 360, 377
  • American Historical Association Papers, 632
  • American Journal of Archaeology, 17
  • American Mathematical Monthly, 31
  • American Society of Church History Papers, 406
  • Amigeron, see Damigeron
  • Ammianus Marcellinus, 285, 288, 318-9, 527
  • Amplonius, Catalogue of MSS, 267
  • Anastasius Antiochenus, 469
  • Anaxagoras, 456
  • Anaxandrides, 22
  • Anaxilas, 22
  • Anaxilaus, 88, 214
  • Anaximenes, 181
  • Andreas, 154
  • Andrian, F. v., 16
  • Andromachus, 171
  • Angelus, J., 106, 525
  • Annales de la Faculté des Lettres de Bordeaux, 704
  • Annales du Service des Antiquités de l’Egypte, 14
  • Année Sociologique, 6
  • Ansileubus, 503
  • Ante-Nicene Fathers, 387, and Book II passim
  • Anthropologie, L’, 6
  • Antipater, 185
  • Antisthenes, 553
  • Antonius Eparchus, 745
  • Antonius Musus, 600
  • Anz, Gnostizismus, 360, 383
  • Aomar, 647
  • Aphaxad, 435
  • Apion, 405
  • Apocrypha, chap. xvi, 342, 406
  • Apollonius, to whom works of magic are ascribed, 267
  • Apollonius of Perga, 663
  • Apollonius of Tyana, Epistles and Will, 244;
  • and see other index
  • Apollonius and Galen, 723
  • Apostles, see Acts, Constitutiones, Didascalia
  • Apuleius of Madaura, chap. vii, 165, 242, 290, 309, 390, 465, 508
  • Apology, 222-5, 232-41, 463
  • Dogma of Plato, 222, 241, 596
  • Florida, 222, 233
  • God of Socrates, 222, 240-1
  • Golden Ass or Metamorphoses, 222-32, 241, 332, 406, 509 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Natural Questions, 237
  • Universe, 222
  • dubious or spurious
  • Asclepius, see Hermes Trismegistus
  • grammatical and rhetorical, 596
  • Herbarium, chap. xxvi, 696
  • Sphere, chap. xxix, 197, 596
  • Aquinas, Thomas, 519, 544, 658
  • Aratus, 709
  • Arcandam, 716
  • Archaeologia, chap. xxxiii
  • Archandrinus, see Alchandrus
  • Archigenes, 137, 152, 168, 176
  • Archimatthaeus, 738
  • Archimedes, 29, 663
  • Catoptrica, 237
  • Archinapolus, 185
  • Archiv f. Gesch. d. Medizin, 188, 737
  • Archiv f. Kunde österreich. Geschichtsquellen, 498
  • Archiv f. Studium d. Neuer. Sprachen, 673
  • Arendzen, J. P., 360, 371
  • Aretaeus, 570
  • Aretinus Quilichinus, 558
  • Arevalus, 402, 623
  • Arfarfan or Argafalan or Argafalaus, 711
  • Aristarchus, 31, 219
  • Aristodemus, 574
  • Aristophanes, 24
  • Birds, 324
  • Goetes, 22
  • Aristotle, 3, 26, 32, 103, 139, 146, 153, 180, 205, 210, 237-8, 317, 408, 451, 553, 563, 565, 619-20, 632, 642, 657, 663-5, 764
  • Animals, History of, 24-30, 50, 129, 240, 255, 331, 486, 491, 503
  • Categoriis, 677
  • Generatione, 30
  • Interpretatione, 677
  • Metaphysics, 621
  • Meteorology, 486
  • Partibus, 30
  • Physics, 622
  • Politics, 97
  • dubious or spurious
  • Images, 666
  • Lapidary, 654, 656, 671, 756
  • Secret of Secrets, 555
  • Arnald of Villanova, 162, 653, 688, 736-7, 741
  • Arnheim, 316
  • Arnobius, 423, 505
  • Arnold of Saxony, 611
  • Arrian, 553
  • Artemidorus, 201
  • Artephius or Artesius, 774
  • Asakki marsûti, 18
  • Ascalu the Ishmaelite, 711
  • Ascension of Isaiah, 399
  • Asclepiades, 141, 168
  • Asclepius, see Hermes Trismegistus
  • Ashmole, E., Theatrum chemicum Britannicum, 773
  • Astrolabe, anonymous treatises on, chap. xxx
  • Athenaeus, 120, 196, 202
  • Athenagoras, 288
  • Aubert u. Wimmer, 73
  • Audollent, 28
  • Aufidius Bassus, 45
  • Augustine, chap. xxii, 241-2, 288, 303, 447, 476, 485, 617, 626, 628, 658, 660, 686, 692
  • Anima, 147
  • Cataclysmo, 507
  • City of God (Civitate Dei), 320, 326, chap. xxii, 535, 552-4
  • Confessions, 459, 504-5, 509, 511
  • Consensu Evangelistarum, 505
  • Contra Academicos, 518
  • Contra Faustum, 518
  • Contra Priscillianistas, 519
  • Diversis quaestionibus, 508, 510, 514
  • Divinatione daemonum, 508
  • Doctrina Christiana, 508, 521
  • Enchiridion, 519
  • Epistolae, 241, 514
  • Genesi ad litteram, 483, 504-5, 509, 511, 514, 518-9, 521-2, 660-1
  • Haer., 369
  • Octo Dulcitii quaest., 510
  • Quaestiones ex Novo Test., 518
  • Sermones, 426, 507, 514, 518
  • Sermones supposititi, 522
  • Trinitate, 506-9
  • Aulus Gellius, 50, 59, 202, 269, 354
  • Auracher, T. M., and Stadler, H., 610
  • Ausfeld, A., 551
  • Ausfeld and Kroll, 551
  • Avezac, d’, 601
  • Avicenna, 658, 660
  • Anima, 766
  • Divis. philos., 744
  • Axt and Riegler, 293
  • Babelon, E., 341 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Babut, E. C., 381
  • Bacon, Roger, 108, 163, 341, 409, 601, 603, 646, 661, 665, 766
  • Baethgen, 73
  • Bald and Cild, 720-2, 733
  • Barach, S., 658
  • Bardaisan or Bardesanes, 373-7, 381, 412, 457, 471, 475, 782
  • Barlama, 138
  • Barnabas, 404, 408
  • Epistle, 396, 409;
  • and see Acts (Apocryphal)
  • Barnes, C. L., 773
  • Bartholomew of England, De proprietatibus rerum, 170, 484, 501, 503, 578, 611, 660, 686
  • Baruch, Book of, 399
  • Basil, Hexaemeron, chap. xxi, 322, 458, 476, 504, 552-4
  • Basil and Gregory, Philocalia, 405-6
  • Basset, R., 398-9
  • Bate, Henri, 650
  • Bateson, M., 689-90
  • Bath Occult Reprint Series, 291
  • Battle, W. C., 28
  • Baudry de Balzac, 736
  • Baur, L., 744
  • Beazley, R., 326, 480, 601
  • Becker, H., 551
  • Beckh, H., 604
  • Beckmann, Marbod, 775
  • Bede, 476, 617, 634-6, 658, 675, 683, 688, 694, 702
  • Hexaemeron, 485
  • Natura rerum, 634-5, 676, 695
  • Samuel, 635
  • Temporibus, 634-5
  • Tonitruis, 635-6, 679
  • Belenus, 267
  • Bellarminus, 469
  • Belon, P., 131
  • Bennett, W. H., 446
  • Bentwich, N., 349
  • Berengarius, 701-2
  • Bernadakes, G. N., 202
  • Bernard of Clairvaux, St. 502, 658
  • Bernard Gordon, see Gordon
  • Bernard of Provence, 740
  • Bernard Silvester, 717
  • Bernays, 73
  • Berosus, 95, 104, 185
  • Berthelot, P. E. M., 540
  • Archéologie (1906), 12
  • Chimie (1893), 670, 697, 761
  • Introduction (1889), 12, 199, 544
  • Origines (1885), 12-3, 59, 193, 292, 369, 544, 559
  • Voyages (1895), 131
  • Berthelot et Ruelle (1887-8), 193, 320, 683
  • Bestiary, 498
  • Bevan, A. A., 374
  • Bezogar, 682
  • Bezold, 16
  • Bezold, C., 34
  • Bible, 16, 138, 246, 342, 350, 352, 361-2, 385-6, 405, 439, chap. xxi, 511, 546, 583, 681, 729;
  • and see names of individual books of
  • Bibliotheca Mathematica, 188, 193
  • Bibliotheca Patrum, 426
  • Bibl. d. l’École des Hautes Études, 381, 765
  • Bikélas, 73
  • Billerbeck, 73
  • Bisse, E., 557
  • Bivilaqua, 525
  • Björnbo and Vogl, 642, 663
  • Bl. f. bayr. Gymn., 73
  • Boethius, 109, 527, 618-22, 658, 677
  • Boissier, A., 34
  • Boll, F., 14, 16, 105, 111, 291, 316, 524-5, 683
  • Bollettino della Società geografica italiana, 480
  • Bolus de Mendes, 50
  • Boncompagni, B., Gherardo Cremonese, 163
  • Bonnet, Acta apostolorum apocrypha, 397
  • Book of Changes, 6
  • Book of the Dead, 9, 362
  • Book of the Saviour, 369, 377
  • Book of Secrets, 670
  • Book of Seventy, 670
  • for Book of, see also Alhabib, Baruch, Crates, Enoch, Helxai, Jeû
  • Borgnet, A., 664
  • Bostock, J., and Riley, H. T., chap. ii, 175, 214, 329
  • Bouché-Leclercq, A., 50, 59, 112, 292-3, 297, 308, 316, 476, 683, 687
  • Bouchier, E. S., 313, 380, 434
  • Bousset, W., 349, 361
  • Box, E. B., 619
  • Box, G. H., 351
  • Brandt, W., 383
  • Braulio, 623-4, 628
  • Breasted, J. H., 12
  • History of Egypt, 8-12 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Religion and Thought in Ancient Egypt, 7-10
  • Brehaut, E., 623, 625
  • Bréhier, E., 348-9
  • Breslau, Philol. Abhandl., 297
  • Briau, R. M., 125
  • Bridges, R. H., 603, 661
  • British Museum Catalogue of Vases, 266
  • Brock, A. J., 119, 122
  • Brougniart, A., 761
  • Brown, J. Wood, 670
  • Browne, C. A., 194
  • Browne, E. G., 660, 674
  • Browne, Thomas, 354
  • Bubnov, 501, chap. xxx
  • Budge, E. A. W.
  • Alexander, 551, 562-3
  • Egyptian Magic, 7-14, 233, 686
  • Bulletin Hispanique, 704
  • Bulletin et Mém. d. l. Société Archéol. d. dept. d’Ille-et-Vilaine, 775
  • Bulletin d. l. Société d. Géographie, 565
  • Bunbury, History of Ancient Geography, 601
  • Burchard of Worms, 630
  • Burckhardt, J., 690
  • Burkett, F. C., 374
  • Burnam, J. M., 704
  • Burr, G. L., 2, 630
  • Burton, W., 762
  • Bury, J. B., 266-7, 388
  • Busson, G., 7
  • Butler, H. E., and Owen, A. S., Apulei Apologia, 22, 224ff.
  • Buttmann, P., 340
  • Byzant. Zeitschrift, 497
  • Caecilius, 94
  • Caelius Aurelianus, 625
  • Caesar, J., see Weber, C. F., and
  • Cahier, Nouveaux Mélanges, 498
  • Cahier et Martin, Mélanges, 498
  • Cajori, 188
  • Calderon, 432
  • Callisthenes (on roots), 495
  • Callisthenes Pseudo-, chap. xxiv, 7, 331
  • Calvin, 447
  • Cambridge Medieval History, 524
  • Cambridge University Texts and Studies, 342
  • Camerarius, J., 556
  • Campbell, C., 8
  • Capart, Primitive Art in Egypt, 6
  • Capella, see Martianus
  • Caraccio, 349
  • Cardan, 769
  • Carra de Vaux, 188, 653, 661
  • Carrarioli, D., 551
  • Casaubon, 213
  • Cassianus Bassus, 604
  • Cassiodorus, 545, 617, 619, 625
  • Institutes, 483, 608
  • Letters, 639
  • Cassius Felix, 607
  • Catalogus codicum Graecorum astrologorum, 28, 116, 291, 651
  • Cato, De re rustica, 93
  • Cecco d’Ascoli, 267, 665
  • Celsus, 282
  • Against magicians, 278
  • True Discourse, chap. xix
  • Celsus the medical writer, 727
  • Censorinus, 354, 371, 690
  • Chaeremon, 315, 457
  • Chalcidius, 476
  • Chapman, 405
  • Charles, R. H., chap. xiii, 488-9
  • Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, 287, chap. xiii
  • Ascension of Isaiah, 399
  • Book of Enoch, chap. xiii
  • Charles and Forbes, chap. xiii
  • Charles and Morfill, chap. xiii
  • Charterius, R., 119
  • Chavannes, E., et Pelliot, P., 383
  • Chiron the centaur, 434, 597-8
  • Choulant, L., 578, 612-3
  • Christ, Gesch. d. Griech. Litt., 105, 201, 215, 540
  • Christliches Kunstblatt, 497
  • Chrysippus, 50, 146
  • Chrysostom, John, 472-6, 480, 494, 499
  • Naturis bestiarum, 499
  • Sixth Homily on Matthew, 472-4
  • Spurious Homily on Matthew, 472-5
  • Chwolson, D. A., 661-3
  • Cicero, 50, 232, 597
  • Divinatione, 97, 268-73
  • Dream of Scipio, 273, 544
  • Republic, 274
  • Cild, see Bald and
  • Cillié, G. G., 555
  • Clark and Geikie, 101
  • Classical Philology, 530
  • Classical Review, 21, 525
  • Clement Pseudo, 363-4, chap. xvii
  • Circuits, 404
  • Homilies, 364-5, chap. xvii
  • Itinerarium, 402
  • Recognitions, 231, 364-5, chap. xvii [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Clement of Alexandria, Stromata, 288, 476, 499
  • Cleopatra, 152, 196, 655
  • Clerval, Hermann le Dalmate, 701-2
  • Clinton, Fasti, 124, 135
  • Clitomachus, 268
  • Cockayne, O., Leechdoms, 596, 679, 720ff., 734, 776
  • Narratiunculae, 556
  • Cohn, L., 348, 351
  • Collenucius, P., 53
  • Colombo, De re anatomica, 147
  • Columbia University Studies in History, etc., 622
  • Columella, 50, 59
  • Colville, G., 619
  • Combarieu, J., 6, 568
  • Compositiones ad tingenda, chap. xxxiii
  • Compotus or Computus, 676-7
  • Comte, 107
  • Confucian Canon, 6
  • Congrès scientifique international des catholiques, 7, 297, 701
  • Congress, International, of Medicine, 131, 145, 640, 667, 673
  • Congress, International, of Orientalists, 380
  • Constantinus Africanus, chap. xxxii, 577, 610, 653, 657, 731
  • Antidotarium, 747
  • Aureus, 757-9
  • Chirurgia, 747-8
  • Coitu, 742, 753
  • Compendium megategni, 749
  • Experimentis, 753
  • Febrium, 742, 750
  • Graduum, 613, 748, 750-1, 755-6
  • Humana natura, 659-60, 757
  • Melancholia, 658-9, 742, 751-2, 755
  • Oblivione, 742
  • Pantegni, 658-9, 746ff.
  • Simplicis medicinae, 748
  • Stomacho, 742, 752-3
  • Tegni, Megategni, Microtegni, 749
  • Urinis, 750
  • Viaticum, 742, 745, 749ff., 753, 756
  • Constitutiones apostolorum, 422
  • Conybeare, F. C., 247, 348-9
  • Cook, A. B., Zeus, 23, 296, 379, 429
  • Cook, A. S., 499
  • Cordier, H., see Yule, Marco Polo
  • Cordo, see Simon of Genoa
  • Cornarius, I., 566ff.
  • Cornford, F. M., 23
  • Corpus Medicorum Graecorum, 119
  • Cory, Ancient Fragments, 297
  • Cory, A. T., Horapollo, 331
  • Cosmas Indicopleustes, 480
  • Costa ben Luca, 652-9
  • Differentia Spiritus et animae, 657-9
  • Hero’s Mechanics, 189, 652
  • Physical Ligatures, 652-7
  • Cousin, V., Procli Opera, 319
  • Coxe, H. O., 52, 121, 478, 701, 715
  • Craig, J. A., 33-4
  • Crates, Book of, 763
  • Crateuas, 606
  • Crawford, W. S., 540
  • Creuzer, F., 299
  • Crinas of Marseilles, 98
  • Crito, 152
  • Critodemus, 95
  • Croiset, 282
  • Crophill, John, 684-5
  • Cruice, Abbé, 466
  • Cumont, F.
  • Babylon u. d. Griech. Astrologie, 34
  • Oriental Religions, 21, 296, 533
  • Cunningham, W., 495
  • Cunningham Memoirs of Royal Irish Academy, 293
  • Curtiss, S. I., 33
  • Curtze, 706
  • Cushman, H. E., 26
  • Cyprian, of Antioch
  • Confessio, 296, chap. xviii
  • Martyrium, 428
  • Cyprian of Carthage, 463, 465
  • Cyril, 398, 476
  • Cyril of Alexandria, 570
  • Cyril of Jerusalem, 423
  • Dalechamps, 329
  • Dalton, O. M., 237, 498, 607
  • Damigeron, 293, 558, 605, 777
  • Damis of Nineveh, chap. viii, 407
  • Damocrates, 135
  • Daniel the prophet, 385, 679-80
  • Daniel of Morley, 744
  • Dante, Convivio, 619
  • Divine Comedy, 340, 361
  • Daremberg, C. V., 600, 731, 736
  • Galien comme philosophe, 124
  • Galien sur l’anatomie, 122, 141, 145
  • Hist. d. Sciences Médicales, 570-1, 577, 743ff.
  • Notices et Extraits, 598, 742ff. [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Daremberg et Saglio, 22, 27, 164, 265
  • Daressy, G., 14
  • d’Avezac, see Avezac
  • De aluminibus et salibus, 670
  • De anima, 766
  • De la Ville de Mirmont, 673
  • De Morgan, 108
  • De Renzi, see Renzi
  • De spiritu et anima, 658
  • De vetula, 691
  • Delambre, J. B. J., 108, 663
  • Delisle, L., 698
  • Democritus, 50, 58-9, 61-6, 80, 84, 91, 97, 140, 196-8, 205, 329, 582, 605, 629, 682-3, 733
  • Denkschr. d. Akad. Wien, 73
  • Detlefsen, D., 42, 52
  • Deuteronomy, 453, 456
  • Deventer, 316
  • Dhorme, P., 33
  • Dicaearchus, 180, 213
  • Dict. Chris. Biog., 362-3
  • Dict. National Biog., 291, etc.
  • Dicuil, 326
  • Didascalia Apostolorum, 422
  • Didot, 106, 180
  • Didymus of Alexandria, 463, 604
  • Diels, H., 119, 121, 468
  • Dierich, 381
  • Dieterich, A., 288
  • Dieterici, F., 642
  • Digest, see Justinian
  • Dillmann, 399
  • Dindimus, 341, 556
  • Dindorf, 282, 415, etc.
  • Dio Cassius, 201, 259
  • Dio Chrysostom, 425
  • Diocles Carystius, 178
  • Diodorus of Tarsus, 476
  • Diogenes Laertius, 22, 97, 196
  • Diogenes the Stoic, 273
  • Dionysius the Areopagite, 546-7
  • Dionysius Exiguus, 484
  • Dioscorides, 131, 154, 199, 495, 571, 597, 605-11, 613, 625, 755, 761, 764
  • Dioscorides-Pseudo, 239
  • Herbis femininis, 609
  • Lapidibus, 611, 654
  • Dittmeyer, 27
  • Döllinger, I. I., 705
  • Domitius Piso, 44
  • Donatus, St., 684
  • Dorotheus, 648
  • Doutté, E., 5
  • Druon, H., 540
  • Dryoff, A., 73
  • Dübner, Fr., 552
  • Duhem, P., Système du Monde, 106, 456-9, 481, 504
  • Duncker, 466
  • Dunstan, 773
  • Duruy, 135
  • Ebers, G., 10
  • Ebrubat Zafar filie Elbazar, 745
  • Ecclesiasticus, 510
  • Edling, 381
  • Egidius de Tebaldis, 110
  • Egyptian Days, chap. xxix, app. ii
  • Elizinus, 267
  • Elkman, V. W., 491
  • Elliot Smith, 12
  • Empedocles, 23, 58, 61, 153, 204, 234, 247
  • Encyclopedia Britannica, 301, etc.
  • Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics, 22, 383, etc.
  • Endres, J. A., 753
  • Engelbert of Liège, 673
  • Engelbrecht, 116, 538
  • Enoch
  • Book of, chap. xiii, 208, 350, 399, 410, 454, 457-8, 463
  • Fifteen Stars, Herbs, and Stones, 664
  • Secrets of, chap. xiii
  • Ephemeris f. semit. Epig., 389
  • Ephodia, 745, 749
  • Ephraem Syrus, 374, 381
  • Epicharmus, 86
  • Epicurus, 140-1, 151, 169, 180, 270, 451
  • Epigenes, 95
  • Epimenides, 234
  • Epiphanius, 405-6, 476, 488, 499, 503
  • Contra haereses, 369, 458
  • Duodecim gemmis, 495-6
  • Epist. ad Joan. Jerosolymit., 458-9
  • Panarion, 363-4, 369, 415, 434, 494-5
  • Ponderibus et mensuris, 627
  • Epping, J., and Strassmeier, J. N., 34
  • Eratosthenes, 709
  • Erhard, Fauna d. Cykladen, 73
  • Erkenhard, 677
  • Erlanger Beiträge z. engl. Philol., 733
  • Erman, A., 7
  • Ernault, L. V. E., 775
  • Errors condemned at Oxford and Paris, 642-3
  • Esdras, Supputatio, 677, 682
  • Ethé, 551 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Ethelwold, 705
  • Ethicus, Cosmographia, 600-604
  • Étienne, R., see Stephanus
  • Euclid, 29, 139, 663
  • Geometry, 705-6
  • Optics, 669
  • Eudemus, 237
  • Eudoxus, 61
  • Eugene of Palermo, 108
  • Eugenius Toletanus, 696
  • Eunapius, 297
  • Euripides, 22
  • Eusebius, 261, 374, 395, 405, 466
  • Against Apollonius, 246
  • Praep. Evang., 297, 317, 320, 341, 354, 457
  • Eustache of Kent, 564
  • Eustathius Afer, 484-5
  • Eustathius of Antioch, 470
  • Evans, A. J., 301
  • Evans, E. P., 497
  • Evax, 463, chap. xxxiv
  • Everard, John, 291
  • Ewald, 341
  • Exodus, 386
  • Eyssenhardt, F., 545
  • Fabricius, J. A.
  • Bibl. Graec., 599, 743
  • Cod. apocr., 387, 425-6
  • Sextus Empiricus, 269
  • Farnell, Greece and Babylon, 15, 17-8, 23-4
  • Fasti Philocaliani, 686
  • Favorinus, 269, 274-5
  • Favre, G., 551
  • Fell, John, 428
  • Ferrarius, 747
  • Ferry, C., 775
  • Fialon, 484
  • Ficinus, Marsilius, 319
  • Finlayson, J., 119, 138-9, 143
  • Firmicus Maternus, Julius, 116, 125, 525-38, 689, 698, 705, 710, 782
  • Errore, 525-9
  • Mathesis, 525-38
  • Fischer, A., 673
  • Flaccus Africanus, 267
  • Florentinus, 425
  • Florilegia, 618
  • Flügel, G., 640
  • Fogginius, 495
  • Folcz, John, 612
  • Folk-lore, 24
  • Forbes, see Charles and
  • Förster, M., 673
  • Fossey, 15, 17-20, 33
  • Fossi, F., 53
  • Fowler, H. W., and F. G., 277
  • Fowler, W. W., 73
  • Französiche Studien, 499
  • Frazer, J. G., 5
  • Folk-lore in Old Testament, 16, 170, 231, 341, 359, 386, 448, 493, 688
  • Golden Bough, 5, 568
  • Magic Art, 1, 386
  • Popular Superstitions, 24
  • Frederick II, emperor, 106, 737
  • Free, John, 52
  • Freeman, History of Sicily, 22
  • Freind, see Friend
  • Freud, 178
  • Friend, John, 569, 576
  • Frommberger, G., 401
  • Fronto, 537
  • Frothingham, 17
  • Fuchs, 380
  • Funk, F. X., 422
  • Gaisford, 341
  • Galen, chap. iv, 32, 56, 284, 288, 292, 569-74, 597, 605, 613-4, 626, 653-4, 656, 663, 666-7, 739, 747, 754-6
  • Ad Pisonem de theriaca, 130, 170, 177
  • Alimentorum facultatibus, 137, 159
  • Anatom. administ., 121, 123, 152
  • Antidot., 154, 171
  • Cognoscendis curandisque animi morbis, 123
  • Compound medicines, 125, 152, 160, 172
  • Critical days, 157, 179
  • Diagnosis from Dreams, 177
  • Differentiis pulsorum, 137
  • Dinamidis, 727-8, 742
  • Euporista, see Remediis parabilibus
  • Foetuum formatione, 150
  • Healing art, 176
  • Hippocratic commentaries, 119-21, 177, 749
  • Libriis propriis, 124, 133
  • Malitia complexionis diversae, 125
  • Medicinal simples, 121, 132, 158, 166-71, 572, 611
  • Methodo medendi, 123, 127, 133, 155, 178
  • Naturalibus facultatibus, 123
  • Ordine librorum, 133
  • Platonic commentaries, 124, 138
  • Prognos. ad Epigenem, 124 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Remediis parabilibus, 127, 161, 175
  • Substantia facultatum naturalium, 170
  • Temperamentis, 119
  • Theriaca ad Pamphilianum, 170
  • Throat and lungs, 134
  • Usu partium, 119, 138, 150-1
  • Venae sectione, 125
  • Victu, 119
  • dubious or spurious
  • Experiments, 162, 720
  • Liber medicinalis, 600
  • Medical Treatment in Homer, 582
  • Placitis philosophorum, 180-1
  • Prognostication by astrology, 178
  • Secrets, 752
  • and see Apollonius and
  • Gamaliel, Jewish patriarch, 584-5
  • Ganschinietz, 467
  • Garcilasso, 17
  • Gargilius Martialis, 608
  • Gariopontus, 577, 733
  • Garrison, F. H., 164
  • Garrod, H. W., 95
  • Garver, M., 499
  • Geber, 670, 763
  • Geikie, see Clark and
  • Gelasius, pope, 389, 404, 406
  • Genealogus, 326
  • Gentile da Foligno, 164
  • Genesis, 181, 193, 341, 386, 445, chap. xxi, 521
  • Geoponica, 59, 463, 604-5
  • Gerard Bituricensis, see Gerard de Solo
  • Gerard of Cremona, 109-10, 646, 648, 750
  • Gerard de Solo, 747, 749
  • Gerbert, chap. xxx
  • Gerson, 106
  • Gesner, 322
  • Giacosa, P., 731, 739
  • Gibbon, E., 285
  • Gibson, M. D., 428
  • Gilbert of England, 162, 577, 688
  • Gilbert Maminot, 673
  • Giles de Corbeil, 737
  • Giles, J., 636
  • and see Egidius de Tebaldis
  • Gillert, K., 684
  • Ginzel, F. K., 34
  • Giovannino di Graziano, 682
  • Giovene, G. M., 686
  • Giry, A., 764
  • Glaber, see Raoul
  • Glover, T. R., 544
  • Golden Legend, see Jacobus de Voragine
  • Goldstaub, M., 497, 503
  • Goldstaub and Wendriner, 499
  • Gollancz, H., 380
  • Goodwin, W. W., 202-3
  • Gordon, Bernard, 688, 740
  • Gospels, 674, 725, 754;
  • and see individual names
  • Gospel of the Infancy, chap. xvi
  • Goujet, 672
  • Goupyl, J., 567
  • Govi, G., 107
  • Graetz, 349
  • Gratian, Decretum, 630-1
  • Gray, C. D., 33
  • Gray, L. A., 296
  • Greenwood, J. G., 188
  • Gregory I, the Great, pope, Dialogues, 405, 593, 637-9
  • Gregory Bar-Hebraeus, 662
  • Gregory of Nyssa, 447, 505
  • Against Fate, 471
  • Hexaemeron, 459, 481
  • Ventriloquist, 470
  • Grenfell, B. P., 28, 293, 361
  • Grenfell and Hunt, 361
  • Griffith, F. L., 7;
  • and see Thompson and
  • Grimm, Jacob, 567-8, 584
  • Groff, Egyptian Sorcery, 7
  • Grosseteste, Robert, 106, 189
  • Grützmacher, G., 540
  • Guido of Arezzo, 698
  • Guinther of Andernach, 567, 576-7
  • Guldenschoff, J., 477
  • Gundissalinus, 744
  • Guthrie, K., 298, 303-4, 349
  • Guyot, H., 349
  • Gwatkin, H. M., 524
  • Haase, Seneca, 101
  • Haase, F., 373
  • Hagins the Jew, 650
  • Hain, 498
  • Halliwell, J. O., 706
  • Hamilton, G. L., 631
  • Hamilton, Mary, 688
  • Hamilton, N. E. S. A., 690
  • Haly Heben Rodan,
  • Dispositione aeris, 647
  • Pluviis, 647
  • Ptolemy’s Quadripartitum, 110
  • Hammer-Jensen, 107
  • Hannubius, 537
  • Hansen, J., 2, 631
  • Hardouin, 42
  • Harleian MSS, Catalogue of, 684-5 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Harnack, A., 405
  • Gesch. d. altchr. Lit., 400
  • Medicinisches aus d. ältest. Kirchengesch., 138-9
  • Harpestreng the Dane, 612
  • Harrington, School of Salerno, 731
  • Harris, Rendel, 23
  • Harrison, J. E., 22, 251, 301
  • Hartel, W., 369
  • Hartfelder, K., 268
  • Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, 108-9
  • Harvey, John, 291
  • Haskins, C. H., 702
  • Adelard of Bath, 652, 664
  • Further Notes, 109
  • Reception of Arabic Science, 693, 773
  • Haskins and Lockwood, 108-9
  • Havell, E. B., 12, 251
  • Heath, T. L., 29, 32, 188
  • Heeg, Pseudodemocrit. Studien, 733
  • Hegel, Philosophy of Religion, 1
  • Hegesippus, 425-6
  • Hehn, Siebenzahl u. Sabbat, 16, 34
  • Heiberg, J. L., 105, 109, 188-9
  • Heider, G., 498-9
  • Heigl, G. A., 299
  • Heim, R., 568, 605
  • Heinsch, P., 349
  • Heintze, W., 399, 403, 406
  • Heliodorus, 232
  • Heller, A., 108, 188
  • Helmreich, G., 119, chap. xxv
  • Helpericus, 696
  • Helxai, Book of, 372
  • Hendrie, R., chap. xxxiii
  • Hengstenberg, Gesch. Bileams, 353, 447
  • Henschel, 578, 731, 758
  • Hephaestion of Thebes, 115-6, 538
  • Heraclides of Pontus, 32
  • Heraclides of Tarentum, 153, 495
  • Heraclitus, 181
  • Heraclius, chap. xxxiii
  • Heraeus, 552
  • Heras, 153
  • Herbarium, 597;
  • and see Apuleius
  • Hercher, R., 215, 322
  • Hermanni de ymbribus et pluviis, 647
  • Hermannus Contractus, chap. xxx, 701, 728
  • Hermann of Dalmatia, 649, 701
  • Hermes, 105, 109, 121, 188, 298, 526, 576, 595, 606, 609-10, 612
  • Hermes Trismegistus, 178, chap. x, 537, 653, 661, 710, 763
  • Asclepius, 221, 290, 596
  • Fifteen Stars, Herbs, Stones, 340, 664
  • Images and Incantations, books of, 664
  • Poimandres, 290-1, 379
  • Virgin of the World, 291
  • Hermippus, 524
  • Hermogenes, 342, 435
  • Hero of Alexandria, 108-9, 188-93, 266, 652
  • works listed at, 188
  • Herodotus, 21-2, 129, 156
  • Herophilus, 32, 77, 145-6, 180
  • Herrandus, 702
  • Herrick, F. H., 267
  • Hesiod, 21, 77, 207
  • Hieg, 119
  • Hierocles, 246
  • Hieronymus, see Jerome
  • Higden, see Ranulf
  • Hildebert, 498
  • Hildegard of Bingen, 342, 432, 660
  • Hilgenfeld, A., 399-401, 405
  • Hincmar of Reims, 630
  • Hipparchus, 32, 96, 537
  • Hippocrates (and Hippocratic writings), 27, 29, 49, 58, 139, 142, 144, 150, 178-9, 356, 571, 625, 663, 723, 735, 747, 757
  • Aphorisms, 176
  • Astrology, 178-9
  • Letter to Antigonus or Maecenas, 600, 724
  • Hippolytus, chaps. xv, xx, 107, 278, 387, 399, 421, 482, 765
  • Hirn, Y., 6
  • Hirschberg, J., 566
  • Histoire Littéraire de la France, 163, 672, etc.
  • Historisch. Jahrbuch, 541
  • History of Three Kings of Cologne, 444, 446, 477
  • Holmes and Kitterman, 10
  • Homer, 49, 169, 245, 260, 273, 582
  • Fourteenth Epigram, 434
  • and see Iliad and Odyssey
  • Homily on Magi, 478-9
  • Hommel, Aethiop. Physiologus, 498, 503
  • Hommel, F., Gestirndienst, 355
  • Hone, 387, 395
  • Honein ben Ishak, 653, 660, 752
  • Honorius of Autun, 502
  • Hooten, 12
  • Hoover, H. C. and H. L., 132, 329
  • Hopf, L., 73 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Hopfner, Papyri, 28
  • Hopfner, T., 73
  • Horapollo, Hieroglyphics, 331-4
  • Hosthanes, see Ostanes
  • Howitt, A. W., 227
  • Hubert, H., 22, 27, 265
  • Huet, G., 241
  • Huet, P. D., 354, 457-8, 461, 469
  • Hugh of St. Victor, 631, 658
  • Bestiis, 498, 501
  • Didascalicon, 389, 402
  • Hugh of Santalla, 652
  • Hugutius, 129
  • Humboldt, A. v., 107
  • Hunain ibn Ishak, see Honein ben Ishak
  • Hunt, see Grenfell and
  • Husik, I., 747
  • Huvelin, P., 6
  • Hystaspes, 296
  • Iamblichus, chap. xi, 296
  • Fato, 316
  • Mysteriis, 288, 307ff.
  • Ibn Abi Usaibi’a, 667
  • Ibn Khallikan, 667
  • Ignatius, 396
  • Ilg, A., 760
  • Iliad, 21, 58
  • Imhoof-Blumer, F. und Keller, O., 73
  • Inchofer, 476
  • Infancy, Gospels of, chap. xvi
  • Inge, W. R., 299
  • International Congresses, see Congress
  • Ioachos, 138
  • Ioannes, see John
  • Iolaos the Bithynian, 495
  • Irenaeus, chap. xv, 411, 421, 488
  • Isaac Israeli, 658, 746ff.
  • Isaiah, 460, 485;
  • Ascension of, 399
  • Isidore of Seville, 326, 601, 623-33, 658, 675, 709
  • Differentiis verborum, 630, 632
  • Etymologiae, 609, 623-33, 777
  • Natura rerum, 401, 623, 632-3
  • Origines, 459, 493
  • Viris illus., 380
  • Israelson, L., 141
  • Itinerarium Alexandri, 553
  • Ivo of Chartres, 630
  • Jackson, A. V. W., 296
  • Jacobitz, 282
  • Jacobus Angelus, 106
  • Jacobus de Partibus, 567
  • Jacobus Psychrestus, 575
  • Jacobus de Voragine, Golden Legend, 427, 435, 475
  • Jacques de Bergame, 702
  • Jahn’s Neue Jahrb., 52
  • Jahrbuch (Austrian), 607
  • Jahrb. d. k. deutsch. archäol. Instit., 28
  • Jahrb. f. Class. Philologie, 349, 605
  • Jahrb. f. Philol. u. Pädagogik, 105
  • James, Protevangelium of, chap. xvi
  • James, M. R.
  • Apocrypha anecdota, 342
  • Biblical Antiquities, 351
  • Cambridge MSS, 564, 597, 602, 723
  • Canterbury and Dover, 753
  • Eton MSS, 52
  • Janus, 578
  • Janus, L., 42
  • Jastrow, M., 17, 19, 34
  • Jayakar, S. G., 393, 688
  • Jean Clopinel, 613
  • Jennings, H., 291
  • Jensen, P., 34
  • Jeremias, 15, 34
  • Jergis, 648
  • Jerome, 369, 398, 447, 459, 461, 466, 476, 483, 600-2, 625, 628, 692
  • Jeû, Book of, 378
  • Jevons, F. B., 22
  • Jewish Quarterly Review, 348
  • Job, Book of, 510, 520
  • Johannitius, see Honein ben Ishak
  • John, Gospel of, 386, 759
  • John Afflacius, 748, 757
  • John Agarenus, 748
  • John Angelus, 106, 525
  • John of Antioch, 194
  • John Crophill, see Crophill
  • John of Damascus, 608
  • John of Hildesheim, 446, 477
  • John of London, 643, 714
  • John Lydus, see Lydus
  • John of St. Amand, 162-3, 725
  • John of Salisbury, Polycraticus, 241, 302-3, 631, 683-4
  • John the Scot, 500, 547, 637
  • John of Spain, chap. xxviii
  • Joret, C., 11, 76
  • Josephus, 354, 366, 425, 446, 703
  • Joshua, Book of, 352
  • Jourdain, C., 672, 690
  • Journal Asiatique, 653
  • Journal des Savants, 131
  • Journal f. praktische Chemie, 763 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Journal of Hellenic Studies, 266, 301
  • Journal of Royal Asiatic Society, 337
  • Jowett, 26
  • Juba, king of Numidia, 49, 218, 256
  • Jude, Epistle of, 342, 435
  • Julian the Chaldean, 296, 317
  • Julian, emperor, 317, 568
  • Julian Honorius, 601
  • Julius Firmicus Maternus, see Firmicus
  • Julius Valerius, Res gestae, chap. xxiv
  • Justinian, 575
  • Digest, 356, 568
  • Justin, Book of Baruch, 399
  • Justin Martyr, 363, 416, 421, 469, 476
  • Juvenal, 126, 437
  • Kaestner, H., 609
  • Karpinski, L. C., 31
  • Katrarios, J., 524
  • Kehrer, H., 476
  • Keil, 49-50
  • Keller, O., 73
  • Kennedy, H. A. A., 349
  • Kenyon, F. G., 365
  • Kepler, 457, 473
  • Kessler, K., 383
  • Kidd, J., 147
  • King, C. W., 49, 174, 293, 329, 379, 568, 775, 777
  • King, L. W., 17, 33
  • King James’ Version, 471
  • Kings, First Book of, 386
  • Kirchoff, A., 299
  • Kitterman and Holmes, 10
  • Klatsche, E. H., 24
  • Kleffner, A. J., 541
  • Knyghton, 690
  • Knudtzon, J. A., 34
  • Köbert, H., 596
  • Koch, H., 541
  • Koch, K., 121
  • Koechly, 293
  • Koeler, G. D., 101
  • Koetschau, P., 436
  • Kopp, U. F., 545-6
  • Koran, 345
  • Kostomoiros, G. A., 566
  • Krabinger, J. G., 540
  • Kraus, F. X., 540
  • Kritzinger, 473
  • Krohn, F., 183
  • Kroll, W.
  • Analecta, 318-9
  • Hermes, 290
  • Oraculis Chaldaicis, 297, 308
  • Vettius Valens, 116
  • Kroll and Ausfeld, 551
  • Kroll et Skutsch, chap. xxiii, 302, 690
  • Krüper, 73
  • Kübler, B., 551
  • Küchler, F., 20
  • Kugler, F. X., 16, 34
  • Kühn, C. G., chap. iv, 572, 605
  • Küster, E., 73
  • Lactantius, 220, 241, 243, 246, 465, 479
  • La Grande Encyclopédie, 292
  • Lagarde, P. D., 400
  • Lagrange, M. J., 34
  • Lamm, O. V., 428
  • Lancet, 119-22, 146-7
  • Lancet-Clinic, 10
  • Land, Otia Syriaca, 497-8
  • Langdon, S., 34
  • Lapidarius, 495, 778
  • Laplace, 108
  • Lascaris, C., 424
  • Lauchert, F., 497-501
  • Laurence, 399
  • Laurent, A., 32
  • Laws of Henry I, 690
  • Lea, H. C., 2
  • Lebour, 73
  • Leclerc, 50
  • Le Coq, A. v., 383
  • Leech-Book of Bald and Cild, 720-3
  • Leemans, 682
  • Lehmann, P., 683
  • Lemaire, 42, 329
  • Leminne, J., 139
  • Lenormant, 5, 17-20, 32
  • Leo I, the Great, pope, 520, 575
  • Leo Allatius, 469
  • Leo, archpriest, 557
  • Leo of Ostia, 743
  • Leonicenus, N., 53
  • Letronne, 480
  • Leucippus, 193
  • Levi, 551
  • Leviticus, 439, 459
  • Lewes, G. H., 29-30, 50
  • Lewysohn, 73
  • Libanius, 472, 538-40, 584
  • Library of Harvard University, Bibliographical Contributions, 166
  • Liddell and Scott, 120, 265
  • Lidzbarski, M., 383
  • Liebermann, F., 690 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Liechtenstein, P., 642
  • Lilius Tifernates, 347
  • Lindermayer, A., 73
  • Linnaeus, 175
  • Linus, pope, 426
  • Lippmann, E. O. v., 12, 16, 194, 649, 670, chap. xxxiii
  • Lipsius et Bonnet, 397
  • Lithica, see Orpheus
  • Lobeck, G. A., 288
  • Locard, 73
  • Lockwood, see Haskins and
  • Locy, W. A., 29-30
  • Lods, A., 341-2
  • Lones, T. E., 26, 29
  • Lorenz, 73
  • Loth, O., 641, 649
  • Löweneck, M., 733
  • Loxus, 460
  • Lucan, 629
  • Lucian, 276-86
  • Alexander, 247, 277, 379, 440, 467-9, 561
  • Apologia, 277
  • Astrologia, 282-3
  • Dialogues of the Gods, 283
  • Dipsadibus, 284
  • Dream, 283
  • How to write history, 284-6
  • Lucius, 276
  • Menippus, 281, 416
  • Nigrinus, 284
  • Peregrinus, 277
  • Philopseudes, 279
  • Tragopodagra, 284
  • Lucius, 349
  • Lucretius, 760
  • Lumby, 690
  • Lupitus of Barcelona, chap. xxx
  • Lüring, H. L., 10
  • Luther, Martin, 651
  • Lycon, 237
  • Lydus, John, 635
  • Lydus, Laurentius, 240
  • Macdonald, D. B., 232, 356, 699
  • Macer Floridus, De viribus herbarum, 612-5
  • Macer, Theophilus, 761
  • Mackinnon, 639
  • Macray, 642, 705
  • Macrobius, 355, 544-5
  • Dream of Scipio, 302, 500, 544, 709
  • Saturnalia, 302, 545
  • Mahaffy, J. P., 135
  • Mai, Classici auctores, 498
  • Maimonides, Moses
  • Aphorisms, 138, 151, 164, 176-7
  • More Nevochim, 358
  • Maklu, 18
  • Mâle, E., 390, 397, 427, 435, 475-6, 502
  • Manetho, 289, 292-3
  • Mangey, 348
  • Manilius, 95, 690-1
  • Manitius, Max, 619, 623, 631
  • Mann, M. F., 497-9
  • Mansi, 499
  • Mantuani, J., 607
  • Mappe clavicula, 468, chap. xxxiii
  • Marbod, 463, 761, chap. xxxiv
  • Fato et genesi, 781-2
  • Lapidum, 775-81
  • Marcellus, disciple of Peter, 425
  • Marcellus Empiricus, chap. xxv, 595, 600, 608, 724, 767
  • Marcianus, see Martianus
  • Marco Polo, 132, 214, 479, 564
  • Marett, R. R., 6, 22
  • Margoliouth, 746
  • Marianus Scotus, 686, 692
  • Marinelli, 480
  • Marinus, 107
  • Marinus, Life of Proclus, 686
  • Mark, Gospel of, 386
  • Mark, K. F. H., 146
  • Marquardt, I., 119
  • Martianus Capella, 326, 545-6, 677, 709
  • Martin, Héron, 188
  • Martin, J., Philon, 347
  • Martin, see Cahier and
  • Martyrium of Cyprian and Justina, 428
  • Marx, A., 73
  • Marx, F., 423
  • Mary the Jewess, 196-7
  • Masselieau, L., 349
  • Matthew, Gospel of, 397, 455, 471ff., 730;
  • Pseudo-, 390
  • Maximus, 426
  • Maximus of Aegae, 244
  • Maximus Taurinensis, 425
  • McKenzie, K., 499
  • Mead, G. R. S., 290, 299, 369, 374, 377-8, 401, 425
  • Mechitarists, 95, 366
  • Medicae artis principes, 566ff.
  • Medici antiqui, 567, 612
  • Mela, see Pomponius
  • Mémoires couronnés par l’Académie de Belgique, 139
  • Menander, 22, 49
  • Menecrates, 135
  • Menelbus, 574
  • Mentz, F., 76 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Mercurius Cilenius (or Tillemus), 652;
  • and see Hermes
  • Merrifield, Mrs., chap. xxxiii
  • Merx, A., 121, 373
  • Mesue (Yuhanna ibn Masawaih), 162, 164
  • Metrodorus, Letter to Celsus, 441
  • Metrodorus, Byzantine grammarian, 575
  • Meusel, 551
  • Mewaldt, 119, 176
  • Meyer, E. v., 772
  • Meyer, M. P. H., 551
  • Meyer-Steineg, T., 121
  • Micah, 352
  • Michael Scot, 664, 704, 710
  • Migne, Dict. d. Apocryphes, 397
  • Mills, L. H., 349
  • Milne, J. S., 145
  • Milward, E., 137, chap. xxv
  • Minucius Felix, 465
  • Miskati, 18
  • Mithridates, 87, 171, 495
  • Mitteilungen d. anthrop. Gesell. in Wien, 16
  • Mitteilungen d. Vorderasiat. Gesell., 473
  • Modern Language Publications, 499
  • Moeragenes (or Moiragenes), 244, 246, 253, 448
  • Molbech, C., 612
  • Mommsen, T., 73, 326-31, 526, 601, 695
  • Monaci, E., 499
  • Monist, The, 630
  • Montgomery, J. A., 384
  • Moon-Books, chap. xxix
  • Morellus Federicus, 538
  • Moret, A., 7
  • Morf, H., 552
  • Morfill and Charles, chap. xiii
  • Morgan, M. H., 183-8
  • Morgenländische Forschungen, 642
  • Morienus Romanus, 697, 761
  • Moser, G. H., 299
  • Moses the law-giver, 59, 137-8, 151, 195, 350, 357, 437, 507
  • Moses ben Maimon, or, of Cordova, see Maimonides
  • Moses ibn Tibbon, 749
  • Moyen Âge, Le, 241
  • Mucianus, 81
  • Mueller, I., 119
  • Muhammad b. Muh. b. Tarchân b. Uzlag, Abû Nasr, see Al-Farabi
  • Muhammad ibn Zakariya, see Rasis
  • Mühle, H. v. d., 73, 132
  • Muir, W., 337, 642
  • Müller, 667
  • Müller, C., 106, 215, 466, 552
  • Müller, F. W. K., 479
  • Müller, H. F., 299
  • Münter, Stern der Weisen, 354-5, 443, 473.
  • Muratori, Antiquitates, 764
  • Murray, M. A., 2
  • Musa ibn Maimon, see Maimonides
  • Musaeus, 77
  • Musée Guimet, 7, 360
  • Nagy, A., 641, 646
  • Nallino, C. A., 106
  • Nansen’s North Polar Expedition, Reports of, 491
  • Nau, F., 374
  • Naudé, G., 234
  • Navigius, 537
  • Naville, E., 7
  • Nechepso, 173
  • Nechepso and Petosiris, 95, 293, 537, 682-3, 714
  • Neckam, Alexander, 342, 658, 772
  • Negri, 671
  • Nehemiah, 352
  • Nemesius, 752
  • Nepos, Chabrias, 558
  • Neue Jahrbuch, 14, 34, 292
  • Neues Archiv d. Gesell. f. ältere deutsche Geschichtskunde, 684
  • Newton, Dict. of Birds, 267
  • Nicander, 172, 236-7, 495
  • Nicephorus, 457
  • Nicholson, R. A., 6
  • Nicodemus, Gospel of, 390, 395
  • Nielsen, D., 355
  • Nigidius Figulus, 515
  • Nisard, 544
  • Nix, 653
  • Noeldeke, 552
  • Nonus, 569
  • Notker, Labeo, 677, 728
  • Numbers, 444
  • Numenius, 443
  • Numisianus, 123
  • Nussey, D., see Mâle, E.
  • Odo of Meung, 613
  • Odo of Morimont, 613
  • Odo of Tournai, 673
  • Odo of Verona, 613
  • Odyssey, 58
  • Oefele, v., 473
  • Oesterley, W. O. E., 351, 399 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Olleris, 706
  • Olympiodorus, 195-6, 292
  • Onesicritus, 553
  • Oppert, J., 34
  • Oribasius, 163, 568ff., 607, 613, 746
  • Origen, chap. xix, 466, 469, 482-3, 499, 506
  • Biblical Commentaries, 444-5, 454, 457, 461
  • Principiis, 456, 520-1
  • Reply to Celsus, chap. xix, 246, 277, 282, 342, 365-6
  • Orosius, 519, 556, 601
  • Orpheus, 58, 65, 195, 206, 234, 282, 291, 293
  • Argonautica, 293
  • Lithica, 293-6, 463, 777
  • Orr, M. A., 16, 116, 192, 340, 619
  • Osann, 596
  • Ostanes or Osthanes, 22, 58-9, 61, 196-8, 234, 296, 463, 465, 558, 582, 763
  • Otho of Cremona, 612
  • Ovid, 612
  • Halieuticon, 74
  • Vetula (spurious), 691
  • Owen, A. S., see Butler and
  • Padmuthiun Acheksandri Maketonazwui, 552
  • Pagel, J. L., 163
  • Palaemo, Q. Remnius Fannius, 761
  • Palladius, 556, 569
  • Pamphilus, 154, 166-7, 178, 288, 291, 495
  • Panaetius, 268
  • Panckoucke, 52, 101
  • Pandulf of Capua, 753
  • Pannier, L., 775
  • Panodorus, 194
  • Pappus, 109
  • Paret, 381
  • Parthenius, 215
  • Parthey, G., 307, 365
  • Patrick, St., 640
  • Paul, the apostle, 405, 556
  • Paul of Aegina, 568ff., 721, 746
  • Paul of Alexandria, 116
  • Pauly and Wissowa, 124, 213, 241, 290
  • Pausanias, 214
  • Payne, J. F.
  • English Medicine, 569, 721, 733
  • Relation of Harvey to Galen, 119-22, 145-7
  • Peiper, R., 619ff.
  • Pelliot, see Chavannes and
  • Pelops, 123, 170
  • Pentateuch, 350
  • Pertz, 702
  • Petavius, 363, 540, etc.
  • Petavius, D., 575
  • Peter, the apostle, chap. xvii
  • Acts of, 405
  • Second Epistle of, 446
  • Teachings of, 405
  • Peter of Abano, see Abano
  • Peter the Archiater, 569
  • Peter the Deacon, chap. xxxii
  • Peter of Spain, 163
  • Petermann, see Schwartze and
  • Peters, E., 497
  • Petosiris, 682-3;
  • and see Nechepso and
  • Petrie, F., 12
  • Petrocellus, 659, 733-6
  • Petrograd Acad. Scient. Imper. Mémoires, 428
  • Pez, Thesaurus Anecdot. Noviss., 698, 701, 706
  • Pfister, F., 552, 556-7, 565
  • Pherecydes, 270-1, 574
  • Philagrius, 567, 577
  • Philastrius, 423
  • Philip, disciple of Bardesanes, 374
  • Philip, translator of Horapollo, 331
  • Philip of Thaon, 498
  • Phillipps, T., 760
  • Philo, cited on plants, 495
  • Philo Judaeus, chap. xiv, 302, 447, 457, 492
  • Alexander, 351
  • Allegories, 357
  • Biblical Antiquities (spurious), 351
  • Contemplative Life, 349-50, 356
  • Creation, 348
  • Dreams, 351-3, 357-8
  • Excircumcisione, 349
  • Gigantibus, 353
  • Law concerning murderers, 352
  • Migratione Abrahami, 353-4
  • Monarchia, 353-4
  • Mundi opificio, 350, 353-7
  • Providentia, 351
  • Quod omnis probus liber sit, 352
  • Vita Mosis, 351, 353, 357
  • Virtutibus, 351
  • Philolaus, 181, 296
  • Philologus, 292, 429, 497, 540, 683
  • Philostratus,
  • Apollonius of Tyana, chap. viii, 205, 329, 392, 406, 410
  • Sophists, 322 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Philumenus, 567, 577
  • Photius, 276, 338
  • Physiologus, 490, 497-503
  • Picatrix, 665
  • Pico della Mirandola, 603
  • Pietschmann, R., 288
  • Pighinuccius, T., 596
  • Pilate, Acts of, 390
  • Pindar, 266
  • Piper, 677
  • Piso, 574
  • Piso, Domitius, 44
  • Pistis-Sophia, 364, 377-9
  • Pitra, J. B.
  • Analecta Sacra, 291, 297
  • Spicilegium, 463, 497ff., 636, 777
  • Platearius, Matthaeus the Elder, 738
  • Plato, 22, 24-6, 58, 61, 137, 139, 151-2, 180-1, 235, 240, 247, 290, 303, 349-50, 353, 355, 460, 519, 532, 622, 632, 713
  • Laws, 25
  • Republic, 26, 138, 212
  • Symposium, 25
  • Timaeus, 24-6, 237, 297, 408, 476, 620
  • Plato of Tivoli, 110
  • Pliny the Elder, Natural History, chap. ii, 3, 100, 132, 154, 187-8, 193, 199, 213-4, 238, 248, 255, 257, 268, 273, 292-3, 296, 322, 325, 327-9, 331, 351, 503, 510, 558, 571-2, 589-91, 612, 614, 624, 626, 628, 737, 761, 764, 766, 780
  • Other works listed, 45
  • Medicina Plinii, 52, 577, 595-6
  • Pliny the Younger, 45, 48, 50
  • Plotinus, chap. xi, 361-2, 542
  • Plutarch, chap. vi, 180, 269, 355, 481, 669
  • Agesilaus, 558
  • Alexander, 552
  • Banquet of Seven Sages, 218
  • Bruta ratione uti, 217
  • Defectu oraculorum, 203, 205, 212-3, 219, 278
  • Ei apud Delphos, 205, 212
  • Facie in orbe lunae, 206, 211, 219
  • Genio Socratis, 205, 207, 240
  • Isis and Osiris, 219
  • Lives, 201, 244
  • Principle of Cold, 218
  • Procreation of Soul, 212
  • Pythiae oraculis, 205
  • Quaestiones naturales, 217, 219
  • Romulus, 209, 330
  • Sera numinis vindicta, 213
  • Solertia animalium, 218
  • Superstitione, 203-4
  • Symposiacs, 205, 211-3, 217, 219
  • Whether an old man should engage in politics, 201
  • dubious or spurious
  • Fato, 202, 210
  • Institutione principis, 200
  • Placitis philosophorum, 202
  • Rivers and Mountains, 202, 215
  • Pognon, H., 384
  • Poirée, see Ruelle et
  • Polemon, 460
  • Politian, 53
  • Polybius, 245
  • Pomponius Mela, 328-9
  • Ponce de Leon, 499
  • Poole, R. L., Medieval Thought, 617, 634
  • Porphyry, chap. xi, 535
  • Abstinentia, 314, 317
  • Introduction to Tetrabiblos, 116, 316
  • Letter to Anebo, 307-20
  • Philosophia ex oraculis, 297
  • Vita Plotini, 296, 300-2
  • Posidonius, 111
  • Prächter, K., 541
  • Preisendanz, K., 28
  • Preller, L., 296, 429
  • Premerstein, A. v., 607
  • Prenostica Pitagorice, 684
  • Preuschen, E., 366
  • Priaulx, Indian Travels, 244
  • Prince, J. D., 15
  • Priscian, 326, 761
  • Priscillian, 380-1, 461
  • Proceedings, Biblical Archaeology, 33
  • Proceedings, Royal Society of Medicine, 284
  • Procharus, 397
  • Proclus, 116, 307, 316
  • Sacrificio et magia, 319-20
  • Protevangelium of James, chap. xvi
  • Pruckner, M., 525
  • Prudentius, 500
  • Psalms and Psalter, 442, 521, 759
  • Psellus, Michael, 290, 569, 772
  • Ptolemy, chap. iii, 32, 118, 135, 272, 307, 341, 537, 661, 664, 666, 703, 709-10, 737
  • Almagest, 105-9
  • Centiloquium, 111
  • Exortatio ad artem, 693
  • Geography, 105-7
  • Music, 107
  • Optics, 107-8 [Pg 827]
  • Planisphere, 699
  • Quadripartitum, see Tetrabiblos
  • Speculis, 189
  • Tetrabiblos, 110-16, 303, 517, 690-1
  • Puccinotti, Storia delle Medicine, chap. xxxii
  • Puschmann, T.
  • Alexander v. Tralles, 567ff., 577ff.
  • Hist. of Medical Education, 120-1, 129, 143, 569, 731
  • Pythagoras, 50, 58, 61-3, 65-6, 80, 91-2, 176, 180-1, 204, 232-4, 247, 263, 269, 274, 288, 317, 349-50, 355, 373, 532
  • Precepta, 696
  • Prenostica, 684
  • Sphere of, chap. xxix, 370
  • Quadripartitus, 690
  • Quid pro quo, 608
  • Quiggin, E. C., 640
  • Quilichinus, Aretinus, 558
  • Quintillian, Pseudo-, 540
  • Rabanus Maurus, 402, 484, 617, 630, 634, 673
  • Radloff, W., 382
  • Raidel, G. M., 106
  • Ramsay, W. M., 106
  • Rand, E. K., 619
  • Ranking, G. S. A., 667-71
  • Ranulf Higden, 690
  • Raoul Glaber, 674
  • Rasche, C., 307
  • Rashdall, H., 731, 757
  • Rasis, 164, 653, 667-71, 748
  • works listed, 668
  • Ratdolt, E., 649
  • Read, C., 5
  • Realencyklopädie f. protest. Theol., 381, 399
  • Regimen Salernitanum, 736ff.
  • Reginald or Retinaldus, 52
  • Regulae ... de compositione astrolapsus, 699
  • Reinach, S., 6
  • Reisner, G. A., 34
  • Reitzenstein, R., 290, 379, 553
  • Renzi, S. D., Collectio Salernitana, 578, 600, 660, chap. xxxi
  • Reuss, F. A., 613
  • Reuvens, 369
  • Revelation, Book of, 386
  • Réville, J., 350
  • Revue des Études anciennes, 672
  • Revue des Études juives, 551
  • Revue d. l’hist. d. religs., 341, 349
  • Revue Phil., 291
  • Revue des Questions Historiques, 113, 690
  • Rhazes, see Rasis
  • Rhein. Mus., 52
  • Richardson, E. C., 400, 403, 406
  • Richer, 704, 733
  • Riegler, see Axt and
  • Riess, E., 24, 292-3, 683
  • Riley, H. T., see Bostock and
  • Robert, 498
  • Robert of Chester, 648, 697, 761, 773
  • Robertson Smith, W., 34
  • Roger Bacon, see Bacon
  • Rohde, Psyche, 293
  • Rolleston, J. D., 284
  • Rom. Forsch., 610
  • Romanic Review, 499, 631
  • Roscher, Lexicon, 34
  • Rose, V., 120, 463, 567, 576, 601
  • Analecta, 121
  • Anecdota, 596, 610
  • Aristoteles De lapidibus, 775, 777
  • HSS Verzeichnisse, 702, 720, 748, 774
  • Medicina Plinii, 595, 600, 609, 612
  • Ptolemaeus, 612
  • Soranus, 571
  • Roussat, R., 116
  • Roux de Rochelle, 564
  • Rück, Plinius im Mittelalter, 51
  • Ruelle, 195, 291;
  • and see Berthelot and Ruelle et Poirée, 371
  • Ruellius, 600
  • Ruffer, M. A., 11
  • Rufinus, chap. xvii, 445
  • Rufus, Melancholia, 756
  • Ruska, J., 611
  • Sackur, Sibyl. Texte, 285
  • Sadan, 651
  • St. George Stock, 362
  • Salmon, G., 362
  • Salomon the archiater, 161
  • Samuel, First Book of, 448
  • Satyrus, 123
  • Sayce, A. H., 35
  • Schanz, 596
  • Schenkel, C., 483
  • Schepss, G., 381, 519
  • Schiaparelli, 16, 32, 35
  • Schiche, T., 268
  • Schlurick, H., 400
  • Schmertosch, R., 202
  • Schmid, W., 105, 108 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Schmidt, 188
  • Schmidt, C., 299, 361, 377-8
  • Schneider, J. G., 237
  • Schneider, O., 237
  • Schneidewin, 466
  • Schultze, V., 497
  • Schwab, M., 33
  • Schwartze und Petermann, 369, 377
  • Scientific Monthly, 194
  • Scribonius Largus, 600
  • Scylax, 256
  • Seeck, O., 540
  • Seleucus, 289
  • Seneca
  • Natural Questions, chap. in, 196, 542, 553
  • Apocryphal correspondence with the apostle Paul, 556
  • Septuagint, 453, 459
  • Serapion, 610
  • Serenus Sammonicus, 608
  • Seth, 365, 474
  • Sethe, 9
  • Sextus Empiricus, 116, 269, 275-6, 469
  • Sextus Papirius Placidus, 599
  • Shakespeare, 772
  • Shelley, 432
  • Sibylline Books, 272, 285
  • Sigebertus Gemblacensis, 613
  • Sijthoff, A. W., 607
  • Sikes, E. E., 21
  • Silvester II, pope, see Gerbert
  • Simon Cephas, Teaching of, 424
  • Simon Cordo of Genoa, 567, 610
  • Simon Papiensis, 525
  • Simon, the heretic, Great Declaration, 362;
  • and see Simon Magus in other index
  • Simonides, 574
  • Singer, Charles, 345, 597, 607, 609, 660, 674
  • Sitzungsberichte (Bavaria), 51
  • Sitzungsberichte (Berlin), 121
  • Sitzungsberichte (Erlangen), 763, 775
  • Sitzungsberichte (Heidelberg), 34, 524
  • Skutsch, see Kroll et
  • Smith, Dict. Greek and Roman Biography, 108
  • Smithsonian Report, 773
  • Smyly, J. G., 293
  • Societas Regia Scientiarum, 468
  • Solinus, 326-31, 510, 601, 625-7, 777
  • Solomon, 195, 451
  • Sophocles, 49
  • Sortes sanctorum, 630-1, 727
  • Spencer, Herbert, 5
  • Sphera cum commentis, 109
  • Sphere of Life and Death, 197, chap. xxix
  • Spiegel, Alexandersage, 552
  • Spon, J., 379
  • Sprengel, K., 606
  • Stadler, H., 613
  • Steele, R., Roger Bacon, 342, 602
  • Steinschneider, M., 669
  • Apollonius v. Thyana, 267
  • Constantinus Africanus, 657, 742-3, 745, 749, 756
  • Europäisch. Übersetz., 288, chap. xxviii, 711
  • Pseudepig. Lit., 578
  • Stephanus, alchemist, 196, 292
  • Stephanus, Medicae artis principes, 566ff.
  • Stephen of Alexandria, 569
  • Stephen of Athens, 607
  • Stephen of Pisa, 747-9
  • Stobaeus, 290
  • Stowe Missal, 640
  • Strabo, 213;
  • and see Walafrid
  • Strassmeier, J. N., see Epping and
  • Strzygowski, J., 497
  • Stubbs, W., 773
  • Stücken, 15, 35
  • Studi Romanzi, 499
  • Stumfall, B., 241
  • Sudhoff, K., 188, 683, 737
  • Suetonius, 244, 425, 601
  • Sulla, Memoirs, 201
  • Sulpicius Severus, 381, 423, 469
  • Sundevall, 73
  • Symeon Seth, 164
  • Symon, see Simon
  • Syncellus, 194, 196, 341
  • Synesius of Cyrene, 196, 320, 533, 540-4, 555
  • Tabit ben Corra, see Thebit ben Corat
  • Tacitus, 201, 241
  • Tallquist, K. L., 33
  • Talmud, 355
  • Taylor, H. O., 533
  • Taylor, T., 299, 307
  • Tennulius, 316
  • Tertullian, 447, 469, 476, 628
  • Anima, 463, 469
  • Apology, 463, 465
  • Cultu feminarum, 463
  • Idolatria, 421
  • Pallio, 493
  • Praescript., 369 [Pg 829]
  • Testaments of Twelve Patriarchs, 345
  • Texte und Untersuchungen, 299, Book II passim
  • Thabit ben Corra, see Thebit ben Corat
  • Thales, 97, 563
  • Thatcher, G. W., 383
  • Theatrum chemicum Britannicum, see Ashmole, E.
  • Thebit ben Corat, 661-6
  • Almagest, 109
  • Imaginibus, 664-6
  • Iudiciis, 664
  • Motu octave spere, 663
  • Ponderibus, 663
  • Theobald, 498, 500
  • Theocritus, 22, 266
  • Theodoret, 369, 423, 447
  • Theodorus Priscianus, 608
  • Theodosian Code, 536, 584
  • Theol. Quartalschrift, 540
  • Theon of Alexandria, 109
  • Theophilus, medical writer, 569
  • Theophilus of Alexandria, 461
  • Theophilus, To Autolycus, 483, 492
  • Theophilus, Schedula diversarum artium, chap. xxxiii
  • Theophilus Macer, see Macer
  • Theophrastus, 27, 29, 75, 81, 186, 236-8
  • Thessalus, 127
  • Thilo, J. C., 387, 476
  • Thomas, apostle,
  • Acts of, 374, 396
  • Gospel of, chap. xvi
  • Thomas of Cantimpré, 503, 578, 600, 636, 658
  • Thomas, W. I., 5, 17
  • Thompson, D’Arcy W.
  • Aristotle as Biologist, 29-30, 73, 146
  • Glossary of Greek Birds, 73, 130, 255, 265, 324
  • History of Animals, 26, 30, 73, 491
  • Thompson, C. J. S., 131
  • Thompson, H., 7, 27-8
  • Thompson, R. C., 15, 18, 33
  • Thorndike, L., 21, 26, 525
  • Thrasyllus, 99
  • Thucydides, 244
  • Tischendorf, chap. xvi
  • Tittel, K., 193
  • Tobit, Book of, 688
  • Todd, T. W., 10, 723
  • Torinus, A., 567, 577
  • Tozer, 131
  • Transactions of American Philological Association, 24, 28, 293
  • Transactions of Provincial Medical and Surgical Association, 147
  • Transactions of Society of Biblical Archaeology, 35
  • Treitel, L., 349
  • Tribonian, 568
  • Trithemius, 658, 702
  • Trotula, 740
  • Turner, S., 633
  • Twelve Tables, 234
  • Twysden, 690
  • Tycho Brahe, 457
  • Tychsen, O. G., 497
  • Tyrwhitt, 293
  • Unger, F., 76
  • University of Nebraska Studies, 24
  • Usener, 619
  • Valentinelli, J., 164
  • Valerius Soranus, 50;
  • and see Julius Valerius
  • Valois, N., 402
  • Valpy, 42
  • Varro, 50, 209, 239, 330, 625
  • Vedas, 251
  • Vergil, 97, 544, 601, 612, 691
  • Vettius Valens, 116
  • Vincent of Beauvais, 342, 389, 402-3, 503, 600, 658, 660, 669-70, 687, 744, 757
  • Vindanius Anatolius, 604
  • Virchow’s Archiv, 668, chap. xxxii
  • Virolleaud, C., 35
  • Vitruvius, 143, 183-8, 199, 601
  • Vogelstein, 552
  • Vogl, S., see Björnbo and
  • Voigt, H. G., 473
  • Volkmann, R., 299, 540
  • Vossius, I., 256
  • Vulgate, 688
  • Waitz, H., 400, 405, 663
  • Walafrid Strabo, 612-3, 615
  • Walker, A., 387
  • Waztalkora, 699
  • Webb, C. C. I., 303, 631, 684
  • Weber, C. F. and Caesar, J., 426
  • Weber, O., 33
  • Webster, H., 16, 686
  • Weissenberger, B., 202
  • Wellmann, M., 121, 138, 606, 608, 610 [Pg __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__]
  • Wendland, P., 348, 350
  • Wescher, C., 188
  • Wessely, C., 365, 607
  • Westenberger, 119
  • Westermann, A., 552
  • Westermarck, E., 73
  • Wickersheimer, E., 673-4, 683, 692, 698, 709
  • Wiedemann, A., 7-8, 14
  • Wiedemann, E., 649, 763
  • Wilcken, 12
  • William of Auvergne, 402, 725
  • William le Clerc, 497-9
  • William of Malmesbury, 690, 704-6, 710, 714
  • William of Moerbeke, 179
  • William de Saliceto, 601
  • Wimmer, see Aubert and
  • Winckler, 15, 35
  • Windelband, W., 26
  • Windisch, H., 349
  • Windischmann, 296
  • Winsor, J., 106
  • Withington, E., 520, 667-8
  • Wolf, C., 607
  • Wolf, H., 316
  • Wolff, G., 297
  • Woltmann and Woermann, 607
  • Woolston, T., 388
  • Wright, T., 556
  • Wünsch, R., 28, 366
  • Wuttke, M. H., 601
  • Wynkyn de Worde, 478
  • Wyttenbach, 299
  • Xanthus, 75
  • Xenocrates Aphrodisiensis, 167
  • Xenophanes, 180, 270
  • Xenophon, 22
  • Ya’kûb ibn Ishâk ibn Sabbâh, see Alkindi
  • Yonge, C. D., 349
  • Yuhanna ibn Masawaih, see Mesue
  • Yule, H., Marco Polo, 132, 214, 479
  • Zacher, J., chap. xxiv
  • Zeitschrift f. ægypt. Sprache, 10, 35
  • Zeitschrift f. deutsch. Morgendl. Gesell., 121, 267
  • Zeitschrift f. klass. Philol., 752
  • Zeitschrift f. Math., 661
  • Zeitschrift f. neutest. Wiss., 401
  • Zeitschrift f. wiss. Theol., 400
  • Zeller, E., 24, 316
  • Zervòs, S., 566
  • Ziegler, K., chap. xxiii
  • Zimmern, 19, 32, 34
  • Zopyrus, 460
  • Zoroaster, 58-9, 206, 235, 281, 295, 396, 415, 435, 605, 629
  • Zosimus, 131, 195, 198, 290, 292

[Pg 831]

[Pg 831]

INDEX OF MANUSCRIPTS

  • Additional 8928, p. 609
  • Additional 11035, p. 500
  • Additional 15236, pp. 694, 716
  • Additional 17808, chap. xxx
  • Additional 22398, p. 695
  • Additional 22719, p. 654
  • Additional 34111, p. 578
  • Alençon 10, p. 484
  • Amiens 222, p. 634
  • Amiens 481, p. 478
  • Amiens fonds Lescalopier 2, p. 676
  • Amiens fonds Lescalopier 30, p. 484
  • Amplon. Folio 41, p. 611
  • Amplon. Octavo 62, p. 747
  • Amplon. Octavo 62a, p. 612
  • Amplon. Octavo 62b, p. 612
  • Amplon. Quarto 12, p. 558
  • Amplon. Quarto 151, p. 643
  • Amplon. Quarto 174, p. 665
  • Amplon. Quarto 204, p. 578
  • Amplon. Quarto 312, p. 664
  • Amplon. Quarto 349, p. 643
  • Amplon. Quarto 352, p. 651
  • Amplon. Quarto 365, p. 650
  • Amplon. Quarto 380, p. 694
  • Amplon. Quarto 381, p. 340
  • Amplon. Math. 48, 643
  • Amplon. Math. 53, p. 340
  • Amplon. Math. 54, p. 267
  • Arsenal 880, p. 650
  • Arsenal 981, p. 106
  • Arsenal 1036, p. 650
  • Arundel 242, p. 556
  • Arundel 295, p. 615
  • Arundel 319, p. 683
  • Ashburnham (Florence) 130, p. 682
  • Ashmole 179, p. 648
  • Ashmole 189, p. 681
  • Ashmole 209, p. 648
  • Ashmole 346, p. 665
  • Ashmole 361, pp. 681, 688
  • Ashmole 369, pp. 648, 714
  • Ashmole 369-V, p. 650
  • Ashmole 393, p. 650
  • Ashmole 434, p. 648
  • Ashmole 1431, pp. 597, 599, 609
  • Ashmole 1462, p. 597
  • Avranches 235, p. 664
  • Balliol 124, p. 52
  • Balliol 146A, p. 52
  • Balliol 231, p. 121
  • Bamberg L-III-9, pp. 610, 747
  • Barberini (Rome) IX, 29, p. 609
  • Berlin 128, p. 634
  • Berlin 130, p. 634
  • Berlin 131, p. 695
  • Berlin 165, p. 720
  • Berlin 799, p. 477
  • Berlin 800, p. 477
  • Berlin 898, p. 748
  • Berlin 902, p. 163
  • Berlin 903, p. 163
  • Berlin 956, pp. 702, 774
  • Berlin 963, pp. 340, 665
  • Berlin 964, p. 665
  • Bernard 2325, p. 478
  • BN Greek 930, p. 401
  • BN Greek 2179, p. 607
  • BN Greek 2316, p. 578
  • BN nouv. acq. 229, pp. 677, 702, 725, 728ff.
  • BN nouv. acq. 490, p. 484
  • BN nouv. acq. 616, p. 643
  • BN nouv. acq. 1612, p. 634
  • BN nouv. acq. 1615, p. 634
  • BN nouv. acq. 1616, chap. xxix
  • BN nouv. acq. 1619, p. 571
  • BN nouv. acq. 1632, p. 634
  • BN 1701 and 1702, p. 484
  • BN 1718 to 1727, p. 484
  • BN 1787A, p. 484
  • BN 2200, p. 484
  • BN 2387, p. 484
  • BN 2598, p. 710
  • BN 2621, p. 776
  • BN 2633, p. 484
  • BN 2637, p. 484
  • BN 2638, p. 484
  • BN 2695A, p. 556
  • BN 2780, p. 500
  • BN 2874, p. 556
  • BN 3660A, pp. 681-2
  • BN 3836, p. 484
  • BN 4126, p. 556
  • BN 4161, p. 714
  • BN 4801 to 4804, p. 106
  • BN 4838, p. 106
  • BN 4877, p. 556
  • BN 4880, p. 556 [Pg 832]
  • BN 5062, p. 556
  • BN 5239, p. 692
  • BN 5543, p. 634
  • BN 6121, p. 556
  • BN 6186, p. 556
  • BN 6296, p. 657
  • BN 6319, p. 657
  • BN 6322, p. 657
  • BN 6323A, p. 657
  • BN 6325, p. 657
  • BN 6365, p. 556
  • BN 6385, p. 556
  • BN 6503, p. 556
  • BN 6514, pp. 664, 670
  • BN 6567A, p. 657
  • BN 6569, p. 657
  • BN 6811, p. 556
  • BN 6831, p. 556
  • BN 6880, pp. 567, 584
  • BN 6881, p. 577
  • BN 6882, p. 577
  • BN 6954, p. 600
  • BN 6957, p. 600
  • BN 6978, p. 648
  • BN 7028, pp. 674, 728
  • BN 7156, p. 670
  • BN 7195, p. 663
  • BN 7282, p. 665
  • BN 7299A, pp. 676, 679, 686, 696
  • BN 7316, pp. 647, 652
  • BN 7328, p. 647
  • BN 7329, p. 652
  • BN 7332, p. 647
  • BN 7337, pp. 664, 687
  • BN 7349, p. 716
  • BN 7351, P. 716
  • BN 7377B, p. 663
  • BN 7412, p. 699
  • BN 7418, pp. 463, 777
  • BN 7424, p. 663
  • BN 7440, p. 647
  • BN 7482, p. 647
  • BN 7486, pp. 693, 716
  • BN 7561, p. 556
  • BN 8247, p. 657
  • BN 8501A, p. 556
  • BN 8518, p. 556
  • BN 8521A, p. 556
  • BN 8607, p. 556
  • BN 9332, pp. 571, 576, 610
  • BN 10233, p. 571
  • BN 10260, p. 663
  • BN 10271, p. 715
  • BN 11624, p. 484
  • BN 12134, p. 484
  • BN 12135, p. 484
  • BN 12136, p. 484
  • BN 12995, p. 609
  • BN 13014, p. 340
  • BN 13336, p. 484
  • BN 13350, p. 445
  • BN 13951, p. 267
  • BN 14700, p. 744
  • BN 14847, p. 484
  • BN 15685, p. 634
  • BN 16082, p. 657
  • BN 16083, p. 657
  • BN 16088, p. 657
  • BN 16142, p. 657
  • BN 16204, p. 650
  • BN 16216, p. 696
  • BN 16490, p. 657
  • BN 16819, pp. 476, 478
  • BN 17868, p. 683, chap. xxx
  • Bodleian 26, p. 694
  • Bodleian 177, p. 694
  • Bodleian 266, pp. 664, 705, 710
  • Bodleian 463, pp. 652, 665
  • Bodleian 2060, p. 758
  • Bologna 952, p. 52
  • Bologna University Library 378, p. 610
  • Bruce Papyrus, p. 378
  • Brussels (Library of Dukes of Burgundy) 1782, p. 484
  • Brussels 2784, p. 657
  • Brussels 8890, p. 776
  • Brussels 10074, p. 498
  • Brussels 15489, p. 758
  • Cambrai 195, p. 696
  • Cambrai 229, p. 696
  • Cambrai 829, p. 696
  • Cambrai 861, p. 696
  • Cambrai 907, p. 758
  • Cambrai 914, p. 758
  • Cambrai 925, p. 633
  • Canon. Misc. 370, p. 643
  • Canon. Misc. 517, p. 682
  • Casin. 97, p. 577
  • Chalons-sur-Marne 7, p. 695
  • Chartres 63, p. 484
  • Chartres 113, p. 692
  • Chartres 342, p. 577
  • CLM 27, p. 665
  • CLM 51, p. 650
  • CLM 59, p. 665
  • CLM 161, pp. 749-50
  • CLM 168, p. 750
  • CLM 187, p. 750
  • CLM 215, p. 560
  • CLM 270, p. 750
  • CLM 337, p. 610
  • CLM 344, p. 377
  • CLM 392, p. 648
  • CLM 489, p. 648
  • CLM 527, p. 716
  • CLM 560, pp. 559, 698, 710 [Pg 833]
  • CLM 588, p. 664
  • CLM 621, p. 241
  • CLM 826, p. 651
  • CLM 1487, p. 650
  • CLM 1503, p. 650
  • CLM 2549, p. 484
  • CLM 3728, p. 484
  • CLM 6258, p. 484
  • CLM 6382, pp. 678, 680
  • CLM 9921, p. 678
  • CLM 11319, p. 556
  • CLM 13034, p. 749
  • CLM 13079, p. 484
  • CLM 14399, p. 484
  • CLM 14583, p. 106
  • CLM 14836, p. 701
  • CLM 18158, p. 634
  • CLM 18621, p. 477
  • CLM 18629, pp. 674, 693, 696
  • CLM 18764, p. 674
  • CLM 19417, p. 500
  • CLM 19544, p. 477
  • CLM 19648, p. 498
  • CLM 21557, p. 634
  • CLM 21627, p. 477
  • CLM 22307, p. 692
  • CLM 23390, p. 696
  • CLM 23479, p. 775
  • CLM 23535, p. 571
  • CLM 23787, p. 498
  • CLM 23839, p. 477
  • CLM 24571, p. 477
  • CLM 25073, p. 477
  • CLM 26688, p. 477
  • Corpus Christi 82, p. 555
  • Corpus Christi 114, p. 657
  • Corpus Christi 134, p. 476
  • Corpus Christi 154, p. 657
  • Corpus Christi 189, p. 578
  • Corpus Christi 233, p. 652
  • Corpus Christi 254, p. 648
  • Cortona 110, p. 164
  • Cotton Appendix VI, pp. 643, 646
  • Cotton Caligula A, XV, pp. 680, 695
  • Cotton Galba E, VIII, p. 477
  • Cotton Nero D, VIII, p. 556
  • Cotton Tiberius A, III, chap. xxix
  • Cotton Tiberius C, VI, p. 692
  • Cotton Titus D, XXVI, chap. xxix
  • Cotton Titus D, XXVII, p. 681
  • Cotton Vespasian B, X, p. 601
  • Cotton Vitellius A, XII, p. 695
  • Cotton Vitellius C, III, pp. 597, 612
  • Cotton Vitellius C, VIII, p. 695
  • CUL 213, p. 602
  • CUL 768, p. 775
  • CUL 1338, p. 678
  • CUL 1429, p. 558
  • CUL 1687, p. 679
  • CUL 1767, pp. 110, 663
  • CUL Ii-i-13, p. 652
  • CU Clare 15, p. 647
  • CU Corpus 193, p. 484
  • CU Jesus 44, p. 610
  • CU Trinity 884, p. 498
  • CU Trinity 906, p. 748
  • CU Trinity 936, p. 643
  • CU Trinity 945, p. 695
  • CU Trinity 987, p. 680
  • CU Trinity 1041, pp. 401, 557
  • CU Trinity 1044, p. 724
  • CU Trinity 1064, p. 749
  • CU Trinity 1109, pp. 678, 693
  • CU Trinity 1152, pp. 597, 599
  • CU Trinity 1365, p. 753
  • CU Trinity 1369, pp. 686, 692, 695
  • CU Trinity 1446, p. 564
  • Digby 30, p. 428
  • Digby 40, p. 646
  • Digby 43, p. 600
  • Digby 51, p. 110
  • Digby 58, p. 693
  • Digby 63, pp. 686, 695
  • Digby 67, pp. 340, 647
  • Digby 68, pp. 647, 652
  • Digby 79, p. 578
  • Digby 83, pp. 705-7
  • Digby 86, p. 678
  • Digby 88, p. 681
  • Digby 91, pp. 643, 646, 648
  • Digby 92, p. 647
  • Digby 93, p. 647
  • Digby 147, p. 647
  • Digby 174, pp. 701-2
  • Digby 176, p. 647
  • Digby 183, pp. 643, 646
  • Digby 194, pp. 652, 665
  • Dijon 448, p. 695
  • Dijon 1045, p. 650
  • Edwin Smith Papyrus, p. 12
  • Egerton 821, pp. 677-81, 684, 726-9
  • Egerton 823, p. 699
  • Escorial Q-I-4, pp. 52-3
  • Escorial R-I-5, pp. 52-3
  • Escorial &-II-9, p. 745
  • Eton 133, Bl.4.6, p. 556
  • Eton 134, Bl.4.7, p. 52
  • Exon. 23, p. 658
  • Florence II, iii, 214, pp. 653, 665 [Pg 834]
  • Gonville and Caius 109, p. 658
  • Gonville and Caius 345, p. 599
  • Gonville and Caius 400, p. 577
  • Gonville and Caius 411, p. 742
  • Grenoble 208, p. 506
  • Grenoble 258, p. 484
  • Gubbio 25, p. 499
  • Harleian 1, p. 650
  • Harleian 13, pp. 643, 663
  • Harleian 80, pp. 340, 665
  • Harleian 527, p. 557
  • Harleian 1585, pp. 597, 609, 696
  • Harleian 1612, p. 340
  • Harleian 1735, p. 684
  • Harleian 2258, p. 677
  • Harleian 3017, pp. 677, 680, 695
  • Harleian 3099, p. 623
  • Harleian 3271, p. 695
  • Harleian 3647, pp. 663, 665
  • Harleian 3859, p. 601
  • Harleian 3969, p. 241
  • Harleian 4346, p. 612
  • Harleian 4986, pp. 597, 608
  • Harleian 5294, p. 609
  • Harleian 5311, p. 694
  • Hatton 76, p. 776
  • Hunterian 44, p. 667
  • Ivrea 3, p. 634
  • Ivrea 6, p. 634
  • Ivrea 19, p. 692
  • Laon 407, p. 692
  • Laud. Misc. 247, pp. 498, 556
  • Laud. Misc. 567, pp. 749, 751
  • Laud. Misc. 594, pp. 650-1
  • Laud. Misc. 658, pp. 444, 477
  • Laurentianus xxxviii, 24, p. 683
  • Laurentianus Plut. 68, 2, p. 241
  • Lincoln College 34, p. 351
  • Lucca I, L, p. 764
  • Lucca 236, pp. 597, 695
  • Lyons 328, p. 664
  • Madrid 10016, p. 693
  • Magliabech. IV, 63, p. 499
  • Magliabech. XI, 117, p. 663
  • Magliabech. XX, 20, p. 665
  • Le Mans 15, p. 484
  • Le Mans 263, p. 52
  • Merton 219, p. 125
  • Monte Cassino 97, p. 577
  • Montpellier 277, pp. 600, 611, 776
  • Munich, Latin MSS., see CLM
  • New College MS., unnumbered, p. 52
  • Novara 40, p. 484
  • Orléans 35, p. 484
  • Orléans 192, p. 484
  • Orléans 276, p. 692
  • Ottobon. 443, p. 401
  • Palat. Lat. 487, p. 673
  • Pembroke 278, p. 676
  • Perugia 736, p. 598
  • Rawlinson C-117, p. 643
  • Rawlinson C-328, pp. 597, 600, 746
  • Riccard. 119, p. 670
  • Riccard. 1228, p. 776
  • Royal 2-C-XII, p. 498
  • Royal 4-A-XIII, p. 65
  • Royal 12-B-XVI, p. 577
  • Royal 12-C-IV, pp. 554, 556
  • Royal 12-C-XVIII, pp. 267, 340, 664
  • Royal 12-E-XX, p. 577
  • Royal 12-F-X, p. 65
  • Royal 13-A-I, pp. 554-5, 564-5
  • Royal 15-B-II, p. 601
  • Royal 15-B-IX, p. 701
  • Royal 15-C-IV, p. 601
  • Royal 15-C-VI, pp. 554, 556
  • Royal 17-A-I, p. 705
  • St. Augustine’s Canterbury 1166, p. 643
  • St. Augustine’s Canterbury 1172, p. 714
  • St. Gall 751, p. 596
  • Ste. Geneviève 2240, p. 643
  • St. John’s 17, p. 680
  • St. John’s 85, p. 747
  • St. John’s 128, p. 349
  • S. Marco 179, p. 658
  • S. Marco XI, 102, p. 665
  • S. Marco XI, 111, p. 694
  • S. Marco XIV, 7, p. 164
  • S. Marco XIV, 26, p. 164
  • Savile 15, p. 652
  • Schlestadt MS., pp. 765, 769
  • Selden 3467, p. 643
  • Selden supra 76, p. 643
  • Semur 10, p. 484
  • Sloane 475, chap. xxix, pp. 723-6
  • Sloane 1305, p. 665
  • Sloane 1571, p. 599
  • Sloane 1619, p. 556
  • Sloane 1734, p. 291
  • Sloane 1975, pp. 597, 609, 696
  • Sloane 2030, p. 652
  • Sloane 2454, p. 657
  • Sloane, 2461, pp. 681, 696
  • Sloane 2472, p. 716
  • Sloane 2839, pp. 723-4
  • Sloane 3554, p. 716 [Pg 835]
  • Sloane 3821, p. 340
  • Sloane 3826, p. 267
  • Sloane 3846, p. 665
  • Sloane 3847, pp. 340, 665
  • Sloane 3848, pp. 267, 611
  • Sloane 3857, p. 716
  • Sloane 3883, p. 665
  • Soissons 121, p. 484
  • Tanner 192, p. 663
  • Turin K-IV-3, p. 609
  • University College 33, p. 477
  • University College 89, p. 750
  • Vatican 180 to 185, p. 349
  • Vatican 269 to 273, p. 484
  • Vatican 642, p. 693
  • Vatican 644, pp. 693, 695
  • Vatican 645, p. 674
  • Vatican Palat. Lat. 176, p. 692
  • Vatican Palat. Lat. 235, chap. xxix
  • Vatican Palat. Lat. 485, chap. xxix
  • Vatican Palat. Lat. 859, p. 477
  • Vatican Urb. Lat. 290, p. 693
  • Vendôme 109, pp. 577-8
  • Vendôme 122, p. 484
  • Vendôme 129, p. 484
  • Vendôme 172, p. 577
  • Vendôme 175, p. 577
  • Vienna 303, p. 499
  • Vienna 2245, p. 679
  • Vienna 2272, p. 604
  • Vienna 2378, p. 665
  • Vienna 2385, p. 647
  • Vienna 2436, pp. 647, 650
  • Vienna 2511, p. 499
  • Vienna 2532, pp. 615, 681, 693
  • Vienna 3124, p. 267
  • Vienna 3207, p. 613
  • Vienna 3255, p. 332
  • Vienna 5203, p. 663
  • Vienna 5216, p. 340
  • Vienna 5371, p. 609
  • Vienna 10583, p. 651
  • Vind. Med. 29, p. 499
  • Westcar Papyrus, p. 8
  • Wolfenbüttel 2725, p. 340
  • Wolfenbüttel 2885, p. 668
  • Wolfenbüttel 3266, p. 477
  • Wolfenbüttel 4435, p. 498
  • Wolfenbüttel palimpsest, p. 121

FOOTNOTES:

[1] H. Cotton, Five Books of Maccabees, 1832, pp. ix-x.

[1] H. Cotton, Five Books of Maccabees, 1832, pp. ix-x.

[2] But Professor Haskins’ recent article in Isis on “Michael Scot and Frederick II” and my chapter on Michael Scot were written quite independently.

[2] But Professor Haskins' recent article in Isis about “Michael Scot and Frederick II” and my chapter on Michael Scot were written independently of each other.

[3] Lectures on the Philosophy of Religion; quoted by Sir James Frazer, The Magic Art (1911), I, 426.

[3] Lectures on the Philosophy of Religion; cited by Sir James Frazer, The Magic Art (1911), I, 426.

[4] That field has already been treated by Joseph Hansen, Zauberwahn, Inquisition und Hexenprozess im Mittelalter, 1900, and will be further illuminated by A History of Witchcraft in Europe, soon to be edited by Professor George L. Burr from H. C. Lea’s materials. See also a work just published by Miss M. A. Murray, The Witch-Cult in Western Europe, Oxford, 1921.

[4] That field has already been explored by Joseph Hansen, Zauberwahn, Inquisition und Hexenprozess im Mittelalter, 1900, and will be further clarified by A History of Witchcraft in Europe, soon to be edited by Professor George L. Burr from H. C. Lea’s materials. Also, check out a recently published work by Miss M. A. Murray, The Witch-Cult in Western Europe, Oxford, 1921.

[5] Some of my scientific friends have urged me to begin with Aristotle, as being a much abler scientist than Pliny, but this would take us rather too far back in time and I have not felt equal to a treatment of the science of the genuine Aristotle per se, although in the course of this book I shall say something of his medieval influence and more especially of the Pseudo-Aristotle.

[5] Some of my science friends have suggested I start with Aristotle, since he was a much better scientist than Pliny, but that would take us too far back in time, and I haven't felt capable of covering the science of the real Aristotle per se. However, in this book, I will discuss his medieval influence and especially the Pseudo-Aristotle.

[6] Frazer has, of course, repeatedly made the point that modern science is an outgrowth from primitive magic. Carveth Read, The Origin of Man, 1920, in his chapter on “Magic and Science” contends that “in no case ... is Science derived from Magic” (p. 337), but this is mainly a logical and ideal distinction, since he admits that “for ages” science “is in the hands of wizards.”

[6] Frazer has, of course, repeatedly pointed out that modern science comes from primitive magic. Carveth Read, The Origin of Man, 1920, in his chapter on “Magic and Science,” argues that “in no case ... is Science derived from Magic” (p. 337), but this is mostly a logical and theoretical distinction, since he acknowledges that “for ages” science “is in the hands of wizards.”

[7] I am glad to see that other writers on magic are taking this view; for instance, E. Doutté, Magie et religion dans l’Afrique du Nord, Alger, 1909, p. 351.

[7] I'm pleased to see that other authors on magic share this perspective; for example, E. Doutté, Magie et religion dans l’Afrique du Nord, Algiers, 1909, p. 351.

[8] Golden Bough, 1894, I, 420. W. I. Thomas, “The Relation of the Medicine-Man to the Origin of the Professional Occupations” (reprinted in his Source Book for Social Origins, 4th edition, pp. 281-303), in which he disputes Herbert Spencer’s “thesis that the medicine-man is the source and origin of the learned and artistic occupations,” does not really conflict with Frazer’s statement, since for Thomas the medicine-man is a priest rather than a magician. Thomas remarks later in the same book (p. 437), “Furthermore, the whole attempt of the savage to control the outside world, so far as it contained a theory or a doctrine, was based on magic.”

[8] Golden Bough, 1894, I, 420. W. I. Thomas, “The Relation of the Medicine-Man to the Origin of the Professional Occupations” (reprinted in his Source Book for Social Origins, 4th edition, pp. 281-303), argues against Herbert Spencer’s claim that the medicine-man is the source of learned and artistic professions. However, this doesn't really contradict Frazer’s view, as Thomas sees the medicine-man more as a priest than a magician. Later in the same book (p. 437), Thomas states, “Furthermore, the entire effort of the primitive person to control the outside world, in so far as it involved a theory or doctrine, was based on magic.”

[9] Chaldean Magic and Sorcery, 1878, p. 70.

[9] Chaldean Magic and Sorcery, 1878, p. 70.

[10] Jules Combarieu, La musique et la magie, Paris, 1909, p. v.

[10] Jules Combarieu, Music and Magic, Paris, 1909, p. v.

[11] Ibid., pp. 13-14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., pp. 13-14.

[12] Among the early Arabs “poetry is magical utterance” (Macdonald (1909) p. 16), and the poet “a wizard in league with spirits” (Nicholson, A Literary History of the Arabs, 1914, p. 72).

[12] Among the early Arabs, “poetry is a magical expression” (Macdonald (1909) p. 16), and the poet is “a wizard connected with spirits” (Nicholson, A Literary History of the Arabs, 1914, p. 72).

[13] See S. Reinach, “L’Art et la Magie,” in L’Anthropologie, XIV (1903), and Y. Hirn, Origins of Art, London, 1900, Chapter xx, “Art and Magic.” J. Capart, Primitive Art in Egypt.

[13] See S. Reinach, “Art and Magic,” in Antrhopology, XIV (1903), and Y. Hirn, Origins of Art, London, 1900, Chapter xx, “Art and Magic.” J. Capart, Primitive Art in Egypt.

[14] P. Huvelin, Magie et droit individuel, Paris, 1907, in Année Sociologique, X, 1-471; see too his Les tablettes magiques et le droit romain, Mâcon, 1901.

[14] P. Huvelin, Magic and Individual Rights, Paris, 1907, in Sociological Yearbook, X, 1-471; also check out his The Magical Tablets and Roman Law, Mâcon, 1901.

[15] R. R. Marett, Psychology and Folk-Lore, 1920, Chapter iii on “Primitive Values.”

[15] R. R. Marett, Psychology and Folk-Lore, 1920, Chapter iii on “Primitive Values.”

[16] E. A. Wallis Budge, Egyptian Magic, 1899, p. vii. Some other works on magic in Egypt are: Groff, Études sur la sorcellerie, mémoires présentés à l’institut égyptien, Cairo, 1897; G. Busson, Extrait d’un mémoire sur l’origine égyptienne de la Kabbale, in Compte Rendu du Congrès Scientifique International des Catholiques, Sciences Religieuses, Paris, 1891, pp. 29-51. Adolf Erman, Life in Ancient Egypt, English translation, 1894, “describes vividly the magical conceptions and practices.” F. L. Griffith, Stories of the High Priests of Memphis, Oxford, 1900, contains some amusing demotic tales of magicians. Erman, Zaubersprüche für Mutter und Kind, 1901. F. L. Griffith and H. Thompson, The Demotic Magical Papyrus of London and Leiden, 1904. See also J. H. Breasted, Development of Religion and Thought in Ancient Egypt, New York, 1912.

[16] E. A. Wallis Budge, Egyptian Magic, 1899, p. vii. Here are some other works on magic in Egypt: Groff, Études sur la sorcellerie, mémoires présentés à l’institut égyptien, Cairo, 1897; G. Busson, Extrait d’un mémoire sur l’origine égyptienne de la Kabbale, in Compte Rendu du Congrès Scientifique International des Catholiques, Sciences Religieuses, Paris, 1891, pp. 29-51. Adolf Erman, Life in Ancient Egypt, English translation, 1894, “describes vividly the magical conceptions and practices.” F. L. Griffith, Stories of the High Priests of Memphis, Oxford, 1900, includes some entertaining demotic tales of magicians. Erman, Zaubersprüche für Mutter und Kind, 1901. F. L. Griffith and H. Thompson, The Demotic Magical Papyrus of London and Leiden, 1904. See also J. H. Breasted, Development of Religion and Thought in Ancient Egypt, New York, 1912.

The following later but briefer treatments add little to Budge: Alfred Wiedemann, Magie und Zauberei im Alten Ægypten, Leipzig, 1905, and Die Amulette der alten Ægypter, Leipzig, 1910, both in Der Alte Orient; Alexandre Moret, La magie dans l’Egypte ancienne, Paris, 1906, in Musée Guimet, Annales, Bibliothèque de vulgarisation. XX. 241-81.

The following later but shorter treatments add little to Budge: Alfred Wiedemann, Magic and Sorcery in Ancient Egypt, Leipzig, 1905, and The Amulets of the Ancient Egyptians, Leipzig, 1910, both in The Ancient Orient; Alexandre Moret, Magic in Ancient Egypt, Paris, 1906, in Musée Guimet, Annales, Popularization Library. XX. 241-81.

[17] Budge (1899), p. 19. At pp. 7-10 Budge dates the Westcar Papyrus about 1550 B. C. and Cheops, of whom the tale is told, in 3800 B. C. It is now customary to date the Fourth Dynasty, to which Cheops belonged, about 2900-2750 B. C. Breasted, History of Egypt, pp. 122-3, speaks of a folk tale preserved in the Papyrus Westcar some nine (?) centuries after the fall of the Fourth Dynasty.

[17] Budge (1899), p. 19. At pp. 7-10 Budge estimates that the Westcar Papyrus dates back to around 1550 B.C., and the story's main character, Cheops, lived around 3800 B.C. It's now standard to date the Fourth Dynasty, which Cheops was a part of, to approximately 2900-2750 B.C. Breasted, in History of Egypt, pp. 122-3, mentions a folk tale preserved in the Papyrus Westcar about nine (?) centuries after the Fourth Dynasty ended.

[18] Budge, p. ix.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, p. 9.

[19] Budge, pp. xiii-xiv.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, pp. xiii-xiv.

[20] For magical myths see E. Naville, The Old Egyptian Faith, English translation by C. Campbell, 1909, p. 233 et seq.

[20] For magical myths, refer to E. Naville, The Old Egyptian Faith, translated into English by C. Campbell, 1909, p. 233 and following.

[21] Budge, pp. 3-4; Lenormant, Chaldean Magic, p. 100; Wiedemann (1905), pp. 12, 14, 31.

[21] Budge, pp. 3-4; Lenormant, Chaldean Magic, p. 100; Wiedemann (1905), pp. 12, 14, 31.

[22] So labelled in the Egyptian Museum at Cairo.

[22] This is the label found in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo.

[23] Budge, p. 185.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, p. 185.

[24] Breasted (1912), pp. 84-5, 93-5. “Systematic study” of the Pyramid Texts has been possible “only since the appearance of Sethe’s great edition,”—Die Altægyptischen Pyramidentexte, Leipzig, 1908-1910, 2 vols.

[24] Breasted (1912), pp. 84-5, 93-5. "Systematic study" of the Pyramid Texts has been possible "only since the appearance of Sethe's great edition,"—Die Altägyptischen Pyramidentexte, Leipzig, 1908-1910, 2 vols.

[25] Budge, pp. 104-7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, pp. 104-7.

[26] Many of them are to enable the dead man to leave his tomb at will; hence the Egyptian title, “The Chapters of Going Forth by Day,” Breasted, History of Egypt, p. 175.

[26] Many of them are meant to allow the dead person to leave their tomb whenever they want; hence the Egyptian title, “The Chapters of Going Forth by Day,” Breasted, History of Egypt, p. 175.

[27] Budge, p. 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, p. 28.

[28] History of Egypt, p. 175; pp. 249-50 for the further increase in mortuary magic after the Middle Kingdom, and pp. 369-70, 390, etc., for Ikhnaton’s vain effort to suppress this mortuary magic. See also Breasted (1912), pp. 95-6, 281, 292-6, etc.

[28] History of Egypt, p. 175; pp. 249-50 for the further increase in mortuary magic after the Middle Kingdom, and pp. 369-70, 390, etc., for Ikhnaton’s futile attempt to suppress this mortuary magic. See also Breasted (1912), pp. 95-6, 281, 292-6, etc.

[29] Breasted (1912), pp. 290-1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Breasted (1912), pp. 290-1.

[30] Budge, pp. xi, 170-1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, pp. xi, 170-1.

[31] Budge, p. 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, p. 4.

[32] Budge, pp. 67-70, 73, 77.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, pp. 67-70, 73, 77.

[33] Budge, pp. 27-28, 41, 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, pp. 27-28, 41, 60.

[34] From the abstract of a paper on The History of Egyptian Medicine, read by T. Wingate Todd at the annual meeting of the American Historical Association, 1919. See also B. Holmes and P. G. Kitterman, Medicine in Ancient Egypt; the Hieratic Material, Cincinnati, 1914, 34 pp., reprinted from The Lancet-Clinic.

[34] From the abstract of a paper on The History of Egyptian Medicine, presented by T. Wingate Todd at the annual meeting of the American Historical Association in 1919. See also B. Holmes and P.G. Kitterman, Medicine in Ancient Egypt; the Hieratic Material, Cincinnati, 1914, 34 pages, reprinted from The Lancet-Clinic.

[35] See H. L. Lüring, Die über die medicinischen Kenntnisse der alten Ægypter berichtenden Papyri verglichen mit den medic. Schriften griech. u. römischer Autoren, Leipzig, 1888. Also Joret, I (1897) 310-11, and the article there cited by G. Ebers, Ein Kyphirecept aus dem Papyrus Ebers, in Zeitschrift f. ægypt. Sprache, XII (1874), p. 106. M. A. Ruffer, Palaeopathology of Egypt, 1921.

[35] See H. L. Lüring, The Papyri Reporting on the Medical Knowledge of the Ancient Egyptians Compared with the Medical Writings of Greek and Roman Authors, Leipzig, 1888. Also Joret, I (1897) 310-11, and the article cited there by G. Ebers, A Kyphosis Recipe from the Ebers Papyrus, in Journal of Egyptian Language, XII (1874), p. 106. M. A. Ruffer, Palaeopathology of Egypt, 1921.

[36] History of Egypt, p. 101.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ History of Egypt, p. 101.

[37] Ibid, p. 102.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid, p. 102.

[38] Budge, p. 206.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, p. 206.

[39] History of Egypt, p. 101.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ History of Egypt, p. 101.

[40] Archéologie et Histoire des Sciences, Paris, 1906, pp. 232-3.

[40] Archaeology and History of Sciences, Paris, 1906, pp. 232-3.

[41] Professor Breasted, however, feels that the contents of the new Edwin Smith Papyrus will raise our estimate of the worth of Egyptian medicine and surgery: letter to me of Jan. 20, 1922.

[41] Professor Breasted, however, thinks that the information in the new Edwin Smith Papyrus will improve our view of the value of Egyptian medicine and surgery: letter to me of Jan. 20, 1922.

[42] Petrie, “Egypt,” in EB, p. 73.

[42] Petrie, “Egypt,” in EB, p. 73.

[43] Berthelot (1885), p. 235. See E. B. Havell, A Handbook of Indian Art, 1920, p. 11, for a combination of “exact science,” ritual, and “magic power” in the work of the ancient Aryan craftsmen.

[43] Berthelot (1885), p. 235. See E. B. Havell, A Handbook of Indian Art, 1920, p. 11, for a mix of “exact science,” ritual, and “magic power” in the work of the ancient Aryan craftsmen.

[44] Berthelot (1889), pp. vi-vii.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1889), pp. vi-vii.

[45] Berthelot (1885), pp. 247-78; E. O. v. Lippmann (1919), pp. 118-43.

[45] Berthelot (1885), pp. 247-78; E. O. v. Lippmann (1919), pp. 118-43.

[46] Budge, pp. 19-20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, pp. 19-20.

[47] Berthelot (1885), p. 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1885), p. 10.

[48] Lippmann (1919), pp. 181-2, and the authorities there cited.

[48] Lippmann (1919), pp. 181-2, and the sources mentioned there.

[49] Budge, pp. 214-5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, pp. 214-5.

[50] Budge, pp. 225-8; Wiedemann (1905), p. 9.

[50] Budge, pp. 225-8; Wiedemann (1905), p. 9.

[51] Wiedemann (1905), pp. 7, 8, 11. See also G. Daressy, Une ancienne liste des décans égyptiens, in Annales du service des antiquités de l’Egypte, I (1900), 79-90.

[51] Wiedemann (1905), pp. 7, 8, 11. See also G. Daressy, An Ancient List of Egyptian Decans, in Annals of the Egyptian Antiquities Service, I (1900), 79-90.

[52] F. Boll in Neue Jahrb. (1908), p. 108.

[52] F. Boll in Neue Jahrb. (1908), p. 108.

[53] Budge, pp. 222-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, pp. 222-3.

[54] Budge, p. 229.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Budge, p. 229.

[55] Some works on the subject of magic and religion, astronomy and astrology in Babylonia and Assyria will be found in Appendix I at the close of this chapter.

[55] You can find some writings on the topics of magic and religion, astronomy and astrology in Babylonia and Assyria in Appendix I at the end of this chapter.

[56] Thompson, Semitic Magic, pp. xxxvi-xxxvii; Fossey, pp. 17-20.

[56] Thompson, Semitic Magic, pp. xxxvi-xxxvii; Fossey, pp. 17-20.

[57] Farnell, Greece and Babylon, p. 102.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Farnell, *Greece and Babylon*, p. 102.

[58] Prince, “Sumer and Sumerians,” in EB.

[58] Prince, “Sumer and Sumerians,” in EB.

[59] Webster, Rest Days, pp. 215-22, with further bibliography. See Orr (1913), 28-38, for an interesting discussion in English of the problem of the origin of solar and lunar zodiac.

[59] Webster, Rest Days, pp. 215-22, with additional references. Check out Orr (1913), 28-38, for an engaging discussion in English about the origins of the solar and lunar zodiac.

[60] Lippmann (1919), pp. 168-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lippmann (1919), pp. 168-9.

[61] Although Schiaparelli, Astronomy in the Old Testament, 1905, pp. v, 5, 49-51, 135, denies that “the frequent use of the number seven in the Old Testament is in any way connected with the planets.” I have not seen F. von Andrian, Die Siebenzahl im Geistesleben der Völker, in Mitteil, d. anthrop. Gesellsch. in Wien, XXI (1901), 225-74; see also Hehn, Siebenzahl und Sabbat bei den Babyloniern und im alten Testament, 1907. J. G. Frazer (1918), I, 140, has an interesting passage on the prominence of the number seven “alike in the Jehovistic and in the Babylonian narrative” of the flood.

[61] Although Schiaparelli, Astronomy in the Old Testament, 1905, pp. v, 5, 49-51, 135, argues that “the frequent use of the number seven in the Old Testament is not connected to the planets at all.” I haven’t come across F. von Andrian, Die Siebenzahl im Geistesleben der Völker, in Mitteil, d. anthrop. Gesellsch. in Wien, XXI (1901), 225-74; see also Hehn, Siebenzahl und Sabbat bei den Babyloniern und im alten Testament, 1907. J. G. Frazer (1918), I, 140, includes an interesting section on the significance of the number seven “in both the Jehovistic and the Babylonian accounts” of the flood.

[62] Webster, Rest Days, pp. 211-2. Professor Webster, who kindly read this chapter in manuscript, stated in a letter to me of 2 July 1921 that he remained convinced that “the mystic properties ascribed to the number seven” can only in part be accounted for by the seven planets; “Our American Indians, for example, hold seven in great respect, yet have no knowledge of seven planets.” But it may be noted that the poet-philosophers of ancient Peru composed verses on the subject of astrology, according to Garcilasso (cited by W. I. Thomas, Source Book for Social Origins, 1909, p. 293).

[62] Webster, Rest Days, pp. 211-2. Professor Webster, who kindly read this chapter in draft form, mentioned in a letter to me on July 2, 1921, that he still believed “the mystical properties associated with the number seven” can only be partially explained by the seven planets; “Our American Indians, for example, highly regard seven, yet have no knowledge of the seven planets.” However, it’s worth noting that the poet-philosophers of ancient Peru wrote verses about astrology, as indicated by Garcilasso (cited by W. I. Thomas, Source Book for Social Origins, 1909, p. 293).

[63] L. W. King, History of Babylon, 1915, p. 299.

[63] L. W. King, History of Babylon, 1915, p. 299.

[64] Fossey (1902), pp. 2-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fossey (1902), pp. 2-3.

[65] Farnell, Greece and Babylon, pp. 301-2. On liver divination see Frothingham, “Ancient Orientalism Unveiled,” American Journal of Archaeology, XXI (1917) 55, 187, 313, 420.

[65] Farnell, Greece and Babylon, pp. 301-2. For liver divination, see Frothingham, “Ancient Orientalism Unveiled,” American Journal of Archaeology, XXI (1917) 55, 187, 313, 420.

[66] Fossey, p. 66.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fossey, p. 66.

[67] Fossey, p. 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fossey, p. 16.

[68] Lenormant, pp. 35, 147, 158.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lenormant, pp. 35, 147, 158.

[69] Thompson, Semitic Magic, pp. xxxviii-xxxix.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Thompson, Semitic Magic, pp. xxxviii-xxxix.

[70] Greece and Babylon, p. 296.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Greece and Babylon, p. 296.

[71] Lenormant, pp. 146-7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lenormant, pp. 146-7.

[72] Ibid., p. 158.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 158.

[73] Jastrow, Religion of Babylon and Assyria, pp. 283-4.

[73] Jastrow, Religion of Babylon and Assyria, pp. 283-4.

[74] Zimmern, Beiträge, p. 173.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Zimmern, Contributions, p. 173.

[75] Ibid., p. 161.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 161.

[76] Fossey, p. 399.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fossey, p. 399.

[77] Fossey, p. 83.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fossey, p. 83.

[78] Ibid., pp. 89-91. F. Küchler, Beiträge zur Kenntnis der Assyr.-Babyl. Medizin; Texte mit Umschrift, Uebersetzung und Kommentar, Leipzig, 1904, treats of twenty facsimile pages of cuneiform.

[78] Ibid., pp. 89-91. F. Küchler, Contributions to the Knowledge of Assyrian-Babylonian Medicine; Texts with Transcription, Translation, and Commentary, Leipzig, 1904, discusses twenty facsimile pages of cuneiform.

[79] Lenormant, p. 190.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lenormant, p. 190.

[80] Ibid., p. 159.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 159.

[81] So enlightened in fact that they spoke with some scorn of the “levity” and “lies” of the Greeks.

[81] So enlightened, in fact, that they talked with some disdain about the “lightheartedness” and “falsehoods” of the Greeks.

[82] Oriental Religions in Roman Paganism, Chicago, 1911, p. 189.

[82] Oriental Religions in Roman Paganism, Chicago, 1911, p. 189.

[83] Thorndike (1905), p. 63.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Thorndike (1905), p. 63.

[84] E. E. Sikes, Folk-lore in the Works and Days of Hesiod, in The Classical Review, VII (1893). 390.

[84] E. E. Sikes, Folk-lore in the Works and Days of Hesiod, in The Classical Review, VII (1893). 390.

[85] Freeman, History of Sicily, I, 101-3, citing Herodotus VII, 153.

[85] Freeman, History of Sicily, I, 101-3, citing Herodotus VII, 153.

[86] Butler and Owen, Apulei Apologia, note on 30, 30.

[86] Butler and Owen, Apulei Apologia, note on 30, 30.

[87] For details concerning operative or vulgar magic among the ancient Greeks see Hubert, Magia, in Daremberg-Saglio; Abt, Die Apologie des Apuleius von Madaura und die antike Zauberei, Giessen, 1908; and F. B. Jevons, “Græco-Italian Magic,” p. 93-, in Anthropology and the Classics, ed. R. Marett; and the article “Magic” in ERE.

[87] For details about practical or common magic among the ancient Greeks, see Hubert, Magia, in Daremberg-Saglio; Abt, Die Apologie des Apuleius von Madaura und die antike Zauberei, Giessen, 1908; and F. B. Jevons, “Græco-Italian Magic,” p. 93-, in Anthropology and the Classics, ed. R. Marett; and the article “Magic” in ERE.

[88] I think that this sentence is an approximate quotation from some ancient author, possibly Diogenes Laertius, but I have not been able to find it.

[88] I believe this sentence is a rough quote from some old author, maybe Diogenes Laertius, but I haven't been able to locate it.

[89] J. E. Harrison, Themis, Cambridge, 1912. The chapter headings briefly suggest the argument: “1. Hymn of the Kouretes; 2. Dithyramb, Δρώμενον, and Drama; 3. Kouretes, Thunder-Rites and Mana; 4. a. Magic and Tabu, b. Medicine-bird and Medicine-king; 5. Totemism, Sacrament, and Sacrifice; 6. Dithyramb, Spring Festival, and Hagia Triada Sarcophagus; 7. Origin of the Olympic Games (about a year-daimon); 8. Daimon and Hero, with Excursus on Ritual Forms preserved in Greek tragedy; 9. Daimon to Olympian; 10. The Olympians; 11. Themis.”

[89] J. E. Harrison, Themis, Cambridge, 1912. The chapter titles provide a brief overview of the argument: “1. Hymn of the Kouretes; 2. Dithyramb, Δρώμενον, and Drama; 3. Kouretes, Thunder Rites, and Mana; 4. a. Magic and Taboo, b. Medicine Bird and Medicine King; 5. Totemism, Sacrament, and Sacrifice; 6. Dithyramb, Spring Festival, and Hagia Triada Sarcophagus; 7. Origin of the Olympic Games (about a year-daimon); 8. Daimon and Hero, with a look at Ritual Forms preserved in Greek tragedy; 9. Daimon to Olympian; 10. The Olympians; 11. Themis.”

[90] F. M. Cornford, Origin of Attic Comedy, 1914, see especially pp. 10, 13, 55, 157, 202, 233.

[90] F. M. Cornford, Origin of Attic Comedy, 1914, see especially pp. 10, 13, 55, 157, 202, 233.

[91] A. B. Cook, Zeus, Cambridge, 1914, pp. 134-5, 12-14, 66-76.

[91] A. B. Cook, Zeus, Cambridge, 1914, pp. 134-5, 12-14, 66-76.

[92] Rendel Harris, Picus who is also Zeus, 1916; The Ascent of Olympus, 1917.

[92] Rendel Harris, Picus who is also Zeus, 1916; The Ascent of Olympus, 1917.

[93] Farnell, Greece and Babylon, pp. 292, 178-9.

[93] Farnell, Greece and Babylon, pp. 292, 178-9.

[94] See Ernest Riess, Superstitions and Popular Beliefs in Greek Tragedy, in Transactions of the American Philological Association, vol. 27 (1896), pp. 5-34; and On Ancient superstition, ibid. 26 (1895), 40-55. Also J. G. Frazer, Some Popular Superstitions of the Ancients, in Folk-lore, 1890, and E. H. Klatsche, The Supernatural in the Tragedies of Euripides, in University of Nebraska Studies, 1919.

[94] See Ernest Riess, Superstitions and Popular Beliefs in Greek Tragedy, in Transactions of the American Philological Association, vol. 27 (1896), pp. 5-34; and On Ancient Superstition, ibid. 26 (1895), 40-55. Also J. G. Frazer, Some Popular Superstitions of the Ancients, in Folk-lore, 1890, and E. H. Klatsche, The Supernatural in the Tragedies of Euripides, in University of Nebraska Studies, 1919.

[95] See Zeller, Pre-Socratic Philosophy, II (1881), 119-20, for further boasts by Empedocles himself and other marvels attributed to him by later authors.

[95] See Zeller, Pre-Socratic Philosophy, II (1881), 119-20, for more claims by Empedocles himself and other wonders credited to him by later writers.

[96] Laws, XI, 933 (Steph.).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Laws, 11, 933 (Steph.).

[97] Timaeus, p. 71 (Steph.).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Timaeus, p. 71 (Steph.).

[98] Symposium, p. 188 (Steph.); in Jowett’s translation, I, 558.

[98] Symposium, p. 188 (Steph.); in Jowett’s translation, I, 558.

[99] Timaeus, p. 40 (Steph.); Jowett, III, 459.

[99] Timaeus, p. 40 (Steph.); Jowett, III, 459.

[100] Ibid., pp. 41-42 (Steph.).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., pp. 41-42 (Steph.).

[101] Timaeus, p. 39 (Steph.); Jowett, III, 458.

[101] Timaeus, p. 39 (Steph.); Jowett, III, 458.

[102] W. Windelband, History of Philosophy, English translation by J. H. Tufts, 1898, p. 147.

[102] W. Windelband, History of Philosophy, English translation by J. H. Tufts, 1898, p. 147.

[103] Windelband, History of Ancient Philosophy, English translation by H. E. Cushman, 1899.

[103] Windelband, History of Ancient Philosophy, English translation by H. E. Cushman, 1899.

[104] For a number of examples, which might be considerably multiplied if books VII-X are not rejected as spurious, see Thorndike (1905), pp. 62-3. T. E. Lones, Aristotle’s Researches in Natural Science, London, 1912, 274 pp., discusses “Aristotle’s method of investigating the natural sciences,” and a large number of Aristotle’s specific statements showing whether they were correct or incorrect. The best translation of the History of Animals is by D’Arcy W. Thompson, Oxford 1910, with valuable notes.

[104] For several examples, which could be greatly increased if books VII-X aren't dismissed as fake, see Thorndike (1905), pp. 62-3. T. E. Lones, Aristotle’s Researches in Natural Science, London, 1912, 274 pp., discusses “Aristotle’s method of investigating the natural sciences” and a lot of Aristotle’s specific claims indicating whether they were right or wrong. The best translation of the History of Animals is by D’Arcy W. Thompson, Oxford 1910, with helpful notes.

[105] See the edition of the History of Animals by Dittmeyer (1907), p. vii, where various monographs will be found mentioned.

[105] Check the edition of the History of Animals by Dittmeyer (1907), p. vii, where you'll find references to various monographs.

[106] Perhaps pure literature was over-emphasized in the Museum at Alexandria, and magic texts in the library of Assurbanipal.

[106] Maybe pure literature was given too much importance in the Museum at Alexandria, and magic texts in the library of Assurbanipal.

[107] A list of magic papyri and of publications up to about 1900 dealing with the same is given in Hubert’s article on Magia in Daremberg-Saglio, pp. 1503-4. See also Sir Herbert Thompson and F. L. Griffith, The Magical Demotic Papyrus of London and Leiden, 3 vols., 1909-1921; Catalogue of Demotic Papyri in the John Rylands Library, Manchester, with facsimiles and complete translations, 1909, 3 vols. Grenfell (1921), p. 159, says, “A corpus of the magical papyri was projected in Germany by K. Preisendanz before the war, and a Czech scholar, Dr. Hopfner, is engaged upon the difficult task of elucidating them.”

[107] A list of magic papyri and publications up to around 1900 that discuss the same is found in Hubert’s article on Magia in Daremberg-Saglio, pp. 1503-4. Also, check out Sir Herbert Thompson and F. L. Griffith, The Magical Demotic Papyrus of London and Leiden, 3 vols., 1909-1921; Catalogue of Demotic Papyri in the John Rylands Library, Manchester, with facsimiles and complete translations, 1909, 3 vols. Grenfell (1921), p. 159, states, “A corpus of the magical papyri was planned in Germany by K. Preisendanz before the war, and a Czech scholar, Dr. Hopfner, is working on the challenging task of clarifying them.”

[108] W. C. Battle, Magical Curses Written on Lead Tablets, in Transactions of the American Philological Association, XXVI (1895), pp. liv-lviii, a synopsis of a Harvard dissertation. Audollent, Defixionum tabulae, etc., Paris, 1904, 568 pp. R. Wünsch, Defixionum Tabellae Atticae, 1897, and Sethianische Verfluchungstafeln aus Rom (390-420 A.D.), Leipzig, 1898.

[108] W. C. Battle, Magical Curses Written on Lead Tablets, in Transactions of the American Philological Association, XXVI (1895), pp. liv-lviii, a summary of a Harvard dissertation. Audollent, Defixionum tabulae, etc., Paris, 1904, 568 pp. R. Wünsch, Defixionum Tabellae Atticae, 1897, and Sethianische Verfluchungstafeln aus Rom (390-420 A.D.), Leipzig, 1898.

[109] Since 1898 various volumes and parts have appeared under the editorship of Cumont, Kroll, Boll, Olivieri, Bassi, and others. Much of the material noted is of course post-classical and Byzantine, and of Christian authorship or Arabic origin.

[109] Since 1898, various volumes and sections have been released under the guidance of Cumont, Kroll, Boll, Olivieri, Bassi, and others. A lot of the material mentioned is obviously post-classical and Byzantine, and comes from Christian authors or has Arabic roots.

[110] For example, see R. Wünsch, Antikes Zaubergerät aus Pergamon, in Jahrb. d. kaiserl. deutsch. archæol. Instit., suppl. VI (1905), p. 19.

[110] For example, see R. Wünsch, Ancient Magic Device from Pergamon, in Yearbook of the Imperial German Archaeological Institute, Suppl. VI (1905), p. 19.

[111] T. L. Heath, The Works of Archimedes, Cambridge, 1897, pp. xxxix-xl.

[111] T. L. Heath, The Works of Archimedes, Cambridge, 1897, pp. xxxix-xl.

[112] On “Aristotle as a Biologist” see the Herbert Spencer lecture by D’Arcy W. Thompson, Oxford, 1913, 31 pp. Also T. E. Lones, Aristotle’s Researches in Natural Science, London, 1912. Professor W. A. Locy, author of Biology and Its Makers, writes me (May 9, 1921) that in his opinion G. H. Lewes, Aristotle; a Chapter from the History of Science, London, 1864, “dwells too much on Aristotle’s errors and imperfections, and in several instances omits the quotation of important positive observations, occurring in the chapters from which he makes his quotations of errors.” Professor Locy also disagrees with Lewes’ estimate of De generatione as Aristotle’s masterpiece and thinks that “naturalists will get more satisfaction out of reading the Historia animalium” than either the De generatione or De partibus. Thompson (1913), p. 14, calls Aristotle “a very great naturalist.”

[112] On “Aristotle as a Biologist” see the Herbert Spencer lecture by D’Arcy W. Thompson, Oxford, 1913, 31 pp. Also T. E. Lones, Aristotle’s Researches in Natural Science, London, 1912. Professor W. A. Locy, author of Biology and Its Makers, wrote to me (May 9, 1921) that he believes G. H. Lewes, Aristotle; a Chapter from the History of Science, London, 1864, “dwells too much on Aristotle’s errors and imperfections, and in several cases omits quoting important positive observations found in the chapters from which he makes his quotations of errors.” Professor Locy also disagrees with Lewes’ view of De generatione as Aristotle’s masterpiece and thinks that “naturalists will derive more satisfaction from reading the Historia animalium” than either the De generatione or De partibus. Thompson (1913), p. 14, calls Aristotle “a very great naturalist.”

[113] This quotation is from Professor Locy’s letter of May 9, 1921.

[113] This quote is from Professor Locy's letter dated May 9, 1921.

[114] The quotations are from a note by Professor D’Arcy W. Thompson on his translation of the Historia animalium, III, 3. The note gives so good a glimpse of both the merits and defects of the Aristotelian text as it has reached us that I will quote it here more fully:

[114] The quotes are from a note by Professor D’Arcy W. Thompson on his translation of the Historia animalium, III, 3. The note provides a clear view of both the strengths and weaknesses of the Aristotelian text as it has come down to us, so I will quote it here in full:

“The Aristotelian account of the vascular system is remarkable for its wealth of details, for its great accuracy in many particulars, and for its extreme obscurity in others. It is so far true to nature that it is clear evidence of minute inquiry, but here and there so remote from fact as to suggest that things once seen have been half forgotten, or that superstition was in conflict with the result of observation. The account of the vessels connecting the left arm with the liver and the right with the spleen ... is a surviving example of mystical or superstitious belief. It is possible that the ascription of three chambers to the heart was also influenced by tradition or mysticism, much in the same way as Plato’s notion of the three corporeal faculties.”

“The Aristotelian description of the vascular system is notable for its abundance of details, its high accuracy in many aspects, and its extreme lack of clarity in others. It is so true to nature that it serves as clear evidence of thorough investigation, yet at times it strays so far from fact that it suggests some observations were either half-forgotten or that superstition clashed with what was actually observed. The description of the vessels linking the left arm to the liver and the right to the spleen... is a lasting example of mystical or superstitious belief. It’s also possible that the idea of the heart having three chambers was influenced by tradition or mysticism, similar to Plato’s concept of the three bodily faculties.”

[115] Professor Locy called my attention to it in a letter of May 17, 1921. See also Thompson (1913), p. 14.

[115] Professor Locy pointed it out to me in a letter dated May 17, 1921. Also, check Thompson (1913), p. 14.

[116] Thompson (1913), p. 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Thompson (1913), p. 19.

[117] L. C. Karpinski, “Hindu Science,” in The American Mathematical Monthly, XXVI (1919), 298-300.

[117] L. C. Karpinski, “Hindu Science,” in The American Mathematical Monthly, XXVI (1919), 298-300.

[118] Sir Thomas Heath, Aristarchus of Samos, the Ancient Copernicus: a history of Greek astronomy to Aristarchus together with Aristarchus’s treatise, “On the Sizes and Distances of the Sun and Moon,” a new Greek text with translation and notes, Oxford, 1913, admits that “our treatise does not contain any suggestion of any but the geocentric view of the universe, whereas Archimedes tells us that Aristarchus wrote a book of hypotheses, one of which was that the sun and the fixed stars remain unmoved and that the earth revolves round the sun in the circumference of a circle.” Such evidence seems scarcely to warrant applying the title of “The Ancient Copernicus” to Aristarchus. And Heath thinks that Schiaparelli (I precursori di Copernico nell’antichità, and other papers) went too far in ascribing the Copernican hypothesis to Heraclides of Pontus. On Aristotle’s answer to Pythagoreans who denied the geocentric theory see Orr (1913), pp. 100-2.

[118] Sir Thomas Heath, Aristarchus of Samos, the Ancient Copernicus: a history of Greek astronomy to Aristarchus together with Aristarchus’s treatise, “On the Sizes and Distances of the Sun and Moon,” a new Greek text with translation and notes, Oxford, 1913, acknowledges that “our treatise does not present any suggestion of anything other than the geocentric view of the universe, while Archimedes informs us that Aristarchus wrote a book of hypotheses, one of which was that the sun and the fixed stars remain motionless and that the earth revolves around the sun in a circular path.” Such evidence hardly seems sufficient to justify calling Aristarchus “The Ancient Copernicus.” Additionally, Heath believes that Schiaparelli (I precursori di Copernico nell’antichità, and other papers) went too far in attributing the Copernican hypothesis to Heraclides of Pontus. For Aristotle's response to the Pythagoreans who rejected the geocentric theory, see Orr (1913), pp. 100-2.

[119] “Farewell, Nature, parent of all things, and in thy manifold multiplicity bless me who, alone of the Romans, has sung thy praise.”

[119] “Goodbye, Nature, the mother of everything, and in your many forms, bless me, the only one among the Romans who has sung your praises.”

[120] For the Latin text of the Naturalis Historia I have used the editions of D. Detlefsen, Berlin, 1866-1882, and L. Janus, Leipzig, 1870, 6 vols. in 3; 5 vols. in 3. There is, however, a good English translation of the Natural History, with an introductory essay, by J. Bostock and H. T. Riley, London, 1855, 6 vols. (Bohn Library), which is superior to both the German editions in its explanatory notes and subject index, and which also apparently antedates them in some readings suggested for doubtful passages in the text. Three modes of dividing the Natural History into chapters are indicated in the editions of Janus and Detlefsen. I shall employ that found in the earlier editions of Hardouin, Valpy, Lemaire, and Ajasson, and preferred in the English translation of Bostock and Riley.

[120] For the Latin text of the Naturalis Historia, I used the editions by D. Detlefsen, Berlin, 1866-1882, and L. Janus, Leipzig, 1870, 6 vols. in 3; 5 vols. in 3. There's also a great English translation of the Natural History, with an introductory essay, by J. Bostock and H. T. Riley, London, 1855, 6 vols. (Bohn Library), which is better than both the German editions in its explanatory notes and subject index. It also seems to predate them in some readings suggested for uncertain passages in the text. Three ways to divide the Natural History into chapters are shown in the editions by Janus and Detlefsen. I'll use the division found in the earlier editions by Hardouin, Valpy, Lemaire, and Ajasson, which is also preferred in the English translation by Bostock and Riley.

[121] Bostock and Riley (1855), I, xvi.

[121] Bostock and Riley (1855), I, xvi.

[122] NH, Preface.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, Intro.

[123] NH, Preface.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, Introduction.

[124] NH, XXII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, 22, 7.

[125] NH, II, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, II, 6.

[126] NH, II, 46.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, II, 46.

[127] NH, II, 5. “Deus est mortali iuvare mortalem....”

[127] NH, II, 5. “God helps humans by helping other humans....”

[128] NH, VII, 56.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, VII, 56.

[129] Letter to Macer, Ep. III, 5, ed. Keil. Leipzig, 1896.

[129] Letter to Macer, Ep. III, 5, ed. Keil. Leipzig, 1896.

[130] NH, VII, 1; XXIII, 60; XXV, 1; XXVII, 1.

[130] NH, VII, 1; XXIII, 60; XXV, 1; XXVII, 1.

[131] XXVI, 76.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXVI, 76.

[132] XXXVII, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 11.

[133] XXI, 88.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 88.

[134] XXXII, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 24.

[135] Yet C. W. King, Natural History of Precious Stones, p. 2, deplores the loss of Juba’s treatise, which he says, “considering his position and opportunities for exact information, is perhaps the greatest we have to deplore in this sad catalogue of desiderata.”

[135] Yet C. W. King, Natural History of Precious Stones, p. 2, regrets the loss of Juba’s treatise, which he states, “given his position and access to accurate information, is probably the biggest loss we have to mourn in this unfortunate list of desiderata.”

[136] NH, XXXII, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, 32, 4.

[137] XXX, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 30.

[138] Bouché-Leclercq (1899), p. 519, notes, however, that Aulus Gellius (X, 12) protested against Pliny’s credulity in accepting such works as genuine and that “Columelle (VII, 5) cite un certain Bolus de Mendes comme l’auteur des ὑπομνήματα attribués à Démocrite.” Bouché-Leclercq adds, however, “Rien n’y fit: Démocrite devint le grand docteur de la magie.”

[138] Bouché-Leclercq (1899), p. 519, points out that Aulus Gellius (X, 12) criticized Pliny for believing in the authenticity of such works and that “Columella (VII, 5) mentions a certain Bolus of Mendes as the author of the ὑπομνήματα attributed to Democritus.” Bouché-Leclercq also mentions, “Nothing changed: Democritus became the great doctor of magic.”

[139] NH, VII, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, VII, 21.

[140] G. H. Lewes, Aristotle; a Chapter from the History of Science, London. 1864.

[140] G. H. Lewes, Aristotle; a Chapter from the History of Science, London. 1864.

[141] Letters of Pliny the Younger, III, 5, ed. Keil, Leipzig, 1896.

[141] Letters of Pliny the Younger, III, 5, ed. Keil, Leipzig, 1896.

[142] NH, VIII, 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, VIII, 34.

[143] XXVIII, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 1.

[144] Rück, Die Naturalis Historia des Plinius im Mittelalter, in Sitzb. Bayer. Akad. Philos-Philol. Classe (1908) pp. 203-318. For citations of Pliny by writers of the late Roman empire and early middle ages, see Panckoucke, Bibliothèque Latine-Française, vol. CVI.

[144] Rück, The Natural History of Pliny in the Middle Ages, in Proceedings of the Bavarian Academy of Sciences - Philosophical and Philological Class (1908) pp. 203-318. For citations of Pliny by authors from the late Roman Empire and early Middle Ages, see Panckoucke, Latin-French Library, vol. CVI.

[145] Concerning the MSS see Detlefsen’s prefaces in each of his first five volumes and his fuller dissertations in Jahn’s Neue Jahrb., 77, 653ff, Rhein. Mus., XV, 265ff; XVIII, 227ff, 327.

[145] For information on the MSS, refer to Detlefsen’s introductions in each of his first five volumes and his more detailed essays in Jahn’s Neue Jahrb., 77, 653ff, Rhein. Mus., XV, 265ff; XVIII, 227ff, 327.

Detlefsen seems to have made no use of English MSS, but a folio of the close of the 12th century at New College, Oxford, contains the first nineteen books of the Natural History and is described by Coxe as “very well written and preserved.”

Detlefsen doesn’t seem to have used any English manuscripts, but a folio from the end of the 12th century at New College, Oxford, contains the first nineteen books of the Natural History and is described by Coxe as “very well written and preserved.”

Nor does Detlefsen mention Le Mans 263, 12th century, containing all 37 books except that the last book is incomplete, and with a full page miniature (fol. 10v) showing Pliny in the act of presenting his work to Vespasian. Escorial Q-I-4 and R-I-5 are two other practically complete texts of the fourteenth century which Detlefsen failed to use.

Nor does Detlefsen mention Le Mans 263, 12th century, which contains all 37 books except that the last one is incomplete, and it includes a full-page miniature (fol. 10v) showing Pliny presenting his work to Vespasian. Escorial Q-I-4 and R-I-5 are two other nearly complete texts from the fourteenth century that Detlefsen did not use.

[146] See M. R. James, Eton Manuscripts, p. 63, MS 134, Bl. 4. 7., Roberti Crikeladensis Prioris Oxoniensis excerpta ex Plinii Historia Naturali, 12-13th century, in a large English hand, giving extracts extending from Book II to Book IX.

[146] See M. R. James, Eton Manuscripts, p. 63, MS 134, Bl. 4. 7., Roberti Crikeladensis Prioris Oxoniensis excerpts from Pliny's Natural History, 12-13th century, in a large English hand, providing extracts from Book II to Book IX.

Of Balliol 124, fols. 1-138, Cosmographia mundi, by John Free, born at Bristol or London, fellow at Balliol College, Oxford, later professor of medicine at Padua and a doctor at Rome, also well instructed in civil law and Greek, Coxe writes, “This work is nothing but a series of excerpts from Pliny’s Natural History, beginning with the second and leaving off with the twentieth.” I wonder if John Free may not have used the very MS of the first nineteen books mentioned in the foregoing note, since the second book of the Natural History is often reckoned as the first.

Of Balliol 124, fols. 1-138, Cosmographia mundi, by John Free, born in Bristol or London, was a fellow at Balliol College, Oxford, and later became a professor of medicine in Padua and a doctor in Rome. He was also well-versed in civil law and Greek. Coxe writes, “This work is simply a collection of excerpts from Pliny’s Natural History, starting with the second and ending with the twentieth.” I wonder if John Free might have used the actual manuscript of the first nineteen books mentioned in the previous note, since the second book of the Natural History is often considered the first.

In Balliol 146A, 15th century, fol. 3-, the Natural History appears in epitome, with a prologue opening, “I, Reginald (Retinaldus), servant of Christ, perusing the books of Pliny....”

In Balliol 146A, 15th century, fol. 3-, the Natural History is summarized, starting with a prologue that opens, “I, Reginald (Retinaldus), servant of Christ, reading the books of Pliny....”

[147] Bologna, 952, 15th century, fols. 157-60, “Tractatus optimus in quo exposuit et aperte declaravit plinius philosophus quid sit lapis philosophicus et ex qua materia debet fieri et quomodo.”

[147] Bologna, 952, 15th century, fols. 157-60, “Best Treatise in Which the Philosopher Pliny Clearly Explained What the Philosopher’s Stone Is, What Material It Should Be Made From, and How It Is Created.”

[148] Fossi, Catalogus codicum saeculo XV impressorum qui in publica Bibliotheca Magliabechiana Florentiae adservantur, 1793-1795, II, 374-81.

[148] Fossi, Catalog of 15th Century Printed Books Held in the Magliabechiana Public Library in Florence, 1793-1795, II, 374-81.

[149] De erroribus Plinii et aliorum in medicina, Ferrara, 1492.

[149] On the Mistakes of Pliny and Others in Medicine, Ferrara, 1492.

[150] Pliniana defensio, 1494.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pliniana defensio, 1494.

[151] Escorial Q-I-4, and R-I-5, both of the 14th century.

[151] Escorial Q-I-4 and R-I-5, both from the 14th century.

[152] NH, V, 1, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, V, 1, 12.

[153] XXVI, 6, “usu efficacissimo rerum omnium magistro”; XVII, 2, 12, “quare experimentis optime creditur.”

[153] XXVI, 6, “as the most effective teacher of all things”; XVII, 2, 12, “for it is best trusted through experience.”

[154] II, 66.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 66.

[155] XXIX, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 23.

[156] XXIX, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 11.

[157] XXV, 54, “coramque nobis”; XXV, 106, “nos eam Romanis experimentis per usus digeremus.”

[157] XXV, 54, “in our presence”; XXV, 106, “we will organize it through Roman experiences by means of practice.”

[158] Sometimes another term, as usus in note 2 above, is employed.

[158] Sometimes another term, like usus in note 2 above, is used.

[159] See II, 41, 1-2; II, 108; VII, 41; VII, 56; VIII, 7; XIV, 8; XVI, 1; XVI, 64; XVII, 2; XVII, 35; XXII, 1; XXII, 43; XXII, 49; XXII, 51; XXV, 7; XXXIV, 39 and 51. Experience is also the idea in the two following passages, although the word experimentum could not smoothly be rendered as “experience” in a literal translation: VII, 50, “Accedunt experimenta et exempla recentissimi census ...”; XXVIII, 45, “Nec uros aut bisontes habuerunt Graeci in experimentis.”

[159] See II, 41, 1-2; II, 108; VII, 41; VII, 56; VIII, 7; XIV, 8; XVI, 1; XVI, 64; XVII, 2; XVII, 35; XXII, 1; XXII, 43; XXII, 49; XXII, 51; XXV, 7; XXXIV, 39 and 51. Experience is also the idea in the two following passages, although the word experimentum could not be smoothly translated as “experience” in a literal way: VII, 50, “Accedunt experimenta et exempla recentissimi census ...”; XXVIII, 45, “Nec uros aut bisontes habuerunt Graeci in experimentis.”

[160] XVI, 24; XXII, 57; XXVI, 60.

[160] XVI, 24; XXII, 57; XXVI, 60.

[161] X, 75.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 75.

[162] XXXV, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 35, 30.

[163] VII, 35

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 35

[164] XIII, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 3.

[165] XIV, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 14, 25.

[166] XVII, 4; XX, 3 and 76; XXII, 23; XXIX, 12; XXXIII, 19 and 43 and 44 and 57; XXXIV, 26 and 48; XXXVI, 38 and 55; XXXVII, 22 and 76; such phrases as sinceri experimentum and veri experimentum are used for “test of genuineness.”

[166] XVII, 4; XX, 3 and 76; XXII, 23; XXIX, 12; XXXIII, 19 and 43 and 44 and 57; XXXIV, 26 and 48; XXXVI, 38 and 55; XXXVII, 22 and 76; terms like sinceri experimentum and veri experimentum are used to mean “test of genuineness.”

[167] XXIII, 31; XXXI, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 23, 31; 31, 28.

[168] XXXI, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 31, 27.

[169] XVII, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 17, 26.

[170] II, 75.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 75.

[171] IX, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 7.

[172] XXVIII, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 6.

[173] XXVIII, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 14.

[174] XXIX, 8. “Discunt periculis nostris et experimenta per mortes agunt.” Bostock and Riley translate the last clause, “And they experimentalize by putting us to death.” Another possible translation is, “And their experiments cost lives.“

[174] XXIX, 8. “They learn from our dangers and conduct their experiments through death.” Bostock and Riley translate the last clause as, “And they experiment by putting us to death.” Another possible translation is, “And their experiments cost lives.”

[175] XXV, 17. ” ... adeo nullo omnia experiendi fine ut cogerentur etiam venena prodesse.“

[175] XXV, 17. ” ... there was no limit to the experience of everything that even poisonous substances had to offer.“

[176] XXIX, 4 ” ... ab experimentis se cognominans empiricen.“

[176] XXIX, 4 ” ... by experiments calling himself an empiricist.“

[177] IX, 86.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 86.

[178] XXXVII, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 15.

[179] According to Galen, as we shall hear later, the Empirics relied a good deal upon chance experience and dreams.

[179] According to Galen, as we will discuss later, the Empirics often depended on random experiences and dreams.

[180] XXV, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 6.

[181] XX, 52.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XX, 52.

[182] XXV, 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 20.

[183] XXIII, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 23, 27.

[184] Among other virtues of vinegar, besides its supposed property of breaking rocks, Pliny mentions that if one holds some in the mouth, it will prevent one from feeling the heat in the baths.

[184] Besides its other benefits, like supposedly being able to break rocks, Pliny notes that if you hold some vinegar in your mouth, it will help you not feel the heat in the baths.

[185] XXV, 6 and 21 and 50; XXVII, 2.

[185] XXV, 6 and 21 and 50; XXVII, 2.

[186] XVI, 24; XXVI, 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XVI, 24; XXVI, 60.

[187] XXIII, 59.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 23, 59.

[188] XXVIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 7.

[189] In the opening chapters of Book XXX, unless otherwise indicated by specific citation.

[189] In the first chapters of Book XXX, unless stated differently by specific citation.

[190] Aulus Gellius, X, 12, and Columella, VII, 5, dispute this (Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque, p. 519). Berthelot (Origines de l’alchimie, p. 145) believes in a Democritan school at the beginning of the Christian era which wrote the works of alchemy attributed to Democritus as well as the books of medical and magical recipes which are quoted in the Geoponica and the Natural History.

[190] Aulus Gellius, X, 12, and Columella, VII, 5, argue about this (Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque, p. 519). Berthelot (Origines de l’alchimie, p. 145) suggests there was a Democritan school at the start of the Christian era that wrote the alchemical works attributed to Democritus, along with the medical and magical recipes mentioned in the Geoponica and the Natural History.

[191] XVI, 95.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 16, 95.

[192] XXX, 2. ” ... quamquam animadverto summam litterarum claritatem gloriamque ex ea scientia antiquitus et paene semper petitam.”

[192] XXX, 2. ” ... although I notice that the highest clarity and glory of literature have always been sought from that knowledge since ancient times.”

[193] Examples are: XXV, 59, “Sed magi utique circa hanc insaniunt”; XXIX, 20, “magorum mendacia”; XXXVII, 60, “magorum inpudentiae vel manifestissimum ... exemplum”; XXXVII, 73, “dira mendacia magorum.”

[193] Examples are: XXV, 59, “But the magicians are definitely going crazy around this”; XXIX, 20, “the lies of the magicians”; XXXVII, 60, “the shamelessness of the magicians is a very clear ... example”; XXXVII, 73, “the terrible lies of the magicians.”

[194] See XXII, 9; XXVI, 9; XXVII, 65; XXVIII, 23 and 27; XXIX, 26; XXX, 7; XXXVII, 14.

[194] See XXII, 9; XXVI, 9; XXVII, 65; XXVIII, 23 and 27; XXIX, 26; XXX, 7; XXXVII, 14.

[195] XXXVII, 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 40.

[196] XXX, 5-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 5-6.

[197] XXX, 6. “Proinde ita persuasum sit, intestabilem, inritam, inanem esse, habentem tamen quasdam veritatis umbras, sed in his veneficas artis pollere, non magicas.”

[197] XXX, 6. “Therefore, it should be understood that it is untrustworthy, deceptive, and empty, yet it possesses certain shadows of truth, but in these, it is the craft of sorcery that flourishes, not magic.”

[198] XXV, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 7.

[199] XXVIII, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 23.

[200] XXVIII, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 2.

[201] XXX, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 4.

[202] XXVIII, 19; XXX, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 19; 30, 6.

[203] XXVIII, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 29.

[204] XXX, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 7.

[205] XXIX, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIX, 26.

[206] For instance, XXX, 27, he mentions the magi, but not in XXX, 28. Nor are they mentioned in XXX, 29, but in XXX, 30 “plura eorum remedia ponemus” seems to refer to them, although we must look back three chapters for the antecedent of eorum.

[206] For example, in XXX, 27, he talks about the magi, but not in XXX, 28. They aren't mentioned in XXX, 29 either, but in XXX, 30, “plura eorum remedia ponemus” seems to refer to them, although we need to look back three chapters to find the antecedent of eorum.

[207] XXXVII, 14, he says that he is going to confute “the unspeakable nonsense of the magicians” concerning gems, but makes no specific citation from them until the thirty-seventh chapter on jasper.

[207] XXXVII, 14, he says that he is going to debunk “the ridiculous nonsense of the magicians” about gems, but he doesn’t provide any specific quotes from them until the thirty-seventh chapter on jasper.

[208] XXX, 47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 47.

[209] XXXVII, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 11.

[210] XX, 30; XXI, 38, 94, 104; XXII, 24, 29.

[210] XX, 30; XXI, 38, 94, 104; XXII, 24, 29.

[211] XXI, 36; XXIV, 99.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 36; 24, 99.

[212] XXV, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXV, 5.

[213] XXIV, 99-102.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIV, 99-102.

[214] See XX, 30; XXI, 36, 38, 94, 104; XXII, 9, 24, 29; XXIV, 99, 102; XXV, 59, 65, 80-81; XXVI, 9.

[214] See XX, 30; XXI, 36, 38, 94, 104; XXII, 9, 24, 29; XXIV, 99, 102; XXV, 59, 65, 80-81; XXVI, 9.

[215] XXI, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 38.

[216] XXI, 104; XXII, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 104; 22, 24.

[217] XXI, 94.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 94.

[218] XXII, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 22, 29.

[219] XX, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XX, 30.

[220] XXI, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 38.

[221] XXIV, 99 and 102.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 99 and 102.

[222] XXV, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 5.

[223] XXV, 59.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 59.

[224] XXVI, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 26, 9.

[225] XXX, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 6.

[226] XXX, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 7.

[227] XXVIII, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 27.

[228] XXVIII, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 25.

[229] XXX, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 24.

[230] XXIX, 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 39.

[231] XXIX, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 12.

[232] XXX, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 6.

[233] XXVIII, 57; XXX, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 57; 30, 17.

[234] Use of goat, XXVIII, 56, 63, 78-79; cat, XXVIII, 66; puppy, XXIX, 38; dog, XXX, 24.

[234] Use of goat, XXVIII, 56, 63, 78-79; cat, XXVIII, 66; puppy, XXIX, 38; dog, XXX, 24.

[235] XXVIII, 60, 66, 77; XXIX, 26.

[235] XXVIII, 60, 66, 77; XXIX, 26.

[236] XXVIII, 66; XXIX, 15; XXX, 7; XXX, 27; XXXII, 38.

[236] XXVIII, 66; XXIX, 15; XXX, 7; XXX, 27; XXXII, 38.

[237] XXX, 8 and 36; see also XXVIII, 60; XXXII, 19 and 24.

[237] XXX, 8 and 36; see also XXVIII, 60; XXXII, 19 and 24.

[238] XXIX, 23; XXX, 18, 20, 30, 49; XXXII, 14, 18, 24.

[238] XXIX, 23; XXX, 18, 20, 30, 49; XXXII, 14, 18, 24.

[239] XXX, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 27.

[240] XXX, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 24.

[241] XXX, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 24.

[242] XXVIII, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 27.

[243] XXVIII, 66; and see XXIX, 12.

[243] XXVIII, 66; and see XXIX, 12.

[244] XXVIII, 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 60.

[245] XXVIII, 68.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 68.

[246] XXVIII, 78.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 78.

[247] XXX, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 17.

[248] XXX, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 18.

[249] XXXII, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 38.

[250] XXIX, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 26.

[251] XXVIII, 63.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 63.

[252] XXVIII, 56; XXIX, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 56; 29, 15.

[253] XXIX, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 19.

[254] XXIX, 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 20.

[255] XXIX, 26; XXX, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIX, 26; XXX, 7.

[256] Pliny ascribes statements concerning stones to the magi in the following chapters: XXXVI, 34; XXXVII, 37, 40, 49, 51, 54, 56, 60, 70, 73.

[256] Pliny attributes comments about stones to the magi in the following chapters: XXXVI, 34; XXXVII, 37, 40, 49, 51, 54, 56, 60, 70, 73.

[257] XXXVII, 54 and 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 54 and 40.

[258] XXXVII, 40, 60, 56, 73.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 40, 60, 56, 73.

[259] XXVIII, 12, “Magorum haec commenta sunt....“

[259] XXVIII, 12, “These are the statements of the magicians....“

[260] XXVIII, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 23.

[261] Some works upon animals in antiquity and Greece are:

[261] Some works about animals in ancient times and Greece are:

Aubert und Wimmer, Aristoteles Thierkunde, 2 vols., Leipzig, 1868.

Aubert and Wimmer, Aristotle's Animal Science, 2 vols., Leipzig, 1868.

Baethgen, De vi et significatione galli in religione et artibus Graecorum et Romanorum, Diss. Inaug., Göttingen, 1887.

Baethgen, The Strength and Significance of Roosters in the Religion and Arts of the Greeks and Romans, Inaugural Dissertation, Göttingen, 1887.

Bernays, Theophrasts Schrift über Frömmigkeit.

Bernays, Theophrastus' Treatise on Piety.

Bikélas, O., La nomenclature de la Faune grecque, Paris, 1879.

Bikélas, O., The Nomenclature of Greek Fauna, Paris, 1879.

Billerbeck, De locis nonnullis Arist. Hist. Animal. difficilioribus, Hildesheim, 1806.

Billerbeck, De locis nonnullis Arist. Hist. Animal. difficilioribus, Hildesheim, 1806.

Dryoff, A., Die Tierpsychologie des Plutarchs, Progr. Würzburg, 1897. Über die stoische Tierpsychologie, in Bl. f. bayr. Gymn., 33 (1897) 399ff.; 34 (1898) 416.

Dryoff, A., The Animal Psychology of Plutarch, Progr. Würzburg, 1897. On Stoic Animal Psychology, in Journal for Bavarian Gymnasiums, 33 (1897) 399ff.; 34 (1898) 416.

Erhard, Fauna der Cykladen, Leipzig, 1858.

Erhard, *Fauna of the Cyclades*, Leipzig, 1858.

Fowler, W. W., A Year with the Birds, 1895.

Fowler, W. W., A Year with the Birds, 1895.

Hopf, L., Thierorakel und Orakelthiere in alter und neuer Zeit, Stuttgart, 1888.

Hopf, L., Thierorakel und Orakelthiere in alter und neuer Zeit, Stuttgart, 1888.

Hopfner, T., Der Tierkult der alten Ægypter nach den griechisch-römischen Berichten und den wichtigen Denkmälern, in Denkschr. d. Akad. Wien, 1913, ii Abh.

Hopfner, T., The Animal Cult of the Ancient Egyptians Based on Greek and Roman Accounts and Important Monuments, in Proceedings of the Academy of Vienna, 1913, ii Abh.

Imhoof-Blumer, F., und Keller, O., Tier-und Pflanzenbilder auf Münzen und Gemmen des klassischen Altertums. illustrated, 1889.

Imhoof-Blumer, F., and Keller, O., Animal and Plant Images on Coins and Gems of Classical Antiquity. illustrated, 1889.

Keller, O., Thiere des class. Altertums.

Keller, O., *Animals of Antiquity*.

Krüper, Zeiten des Gehens und Kommens und des Brütens der Vögel in Griechenland und Ionien, in Mommsen’s Griech. Jahreszeiten, 1875.

Krüper, Times of Coming and Going and the Nesting of Birds in Greece and Ionia, in Mommsen’s Greek Seasons, 1875.

Küster, E., Die Schlange in der griechischen Kunst und Religion, Giessen, 1913.

Küster, E., The Snake in Greek Art and Religion, Giessen, 1913.

Lebour, Zoologist, 1866.

Lebour, Zoologist, 1866.

Lewysohn, Zoologie des Talmuds.

Lewysohn, *Zoology of the Talmud*.

Lindermayer, A., Die Vögel Griechenlands, Passau, 1860.

Lindermayer, A., The Birds of Greece, Passau, 1860.

Locard, Histoire des mollusques dans l’antiquité, Lyon, 1884.

Locard, History of Mollusks in Antiquity, Lyon, 1884.

Lorenz, Die Taube im Alterthume, 1886.

Lorenz, The Dove in Antiquity, 1886.

Marx, A., Griech. Märchen von dankbaren Tieren, Stuttgart, 1889.

Marx, A., Greek Tales of Grateful Animals, Stuttgart, 1889.

Mühle, H. v. d., Beiträge zur Ornithologie Griechenlands, Leipzig, 1844.

Mühle, H. v. d., Contributions to the Ornithology of Greece, Leipzig, 1844.

Sundevall, Thierarten des Aristoteles, Stockholm, 1863.

Sundevall, Species of Aristotle, Stockholm, 1863.

Thompson, D’Arcy W., A Glossary of Greek Birds, 1895. Aristotle as a Biologist, 1913. Also the notes to his translation of the Historia animalium.

Thompson, D’Arcy W., A Glossary of Greek Birds, 1895. Aristotle as a Biologist, 1913. Also the notes to his translation of the Historia animalium.

Westermarck, E., The Origin and Development of Moral Ideas, I (1906) 251-60, gives further bibliography on the subjects of animals as witnesses and the punishment of animal culprits.

Westermarck, E., The Origin and Development of Moral Ideas, I (1906) 251-60, provides additional bibliography on the topics of animals as witnesses and the punishment of animal offenders.

[262] VIII, 1-12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 1-12.

[263] VIII, 17-21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 17-21.

[264] XXXII, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 5.

[265] VIII, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 37.

[266] VIII, 11-12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 11-12.

[267] XXVII, 2; XVIII, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXVII, 2; XVIII, 1.

[268] XXVII, 2; VIII, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 27, 2; 8, 41.

[269] XX, 51 and 61; XXII, 37 and 45.

[269] XX, 51 and 61; XXII, 37 and 45.

[270] XX, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XX, 26.

[271] VIII, 41; XX, 95.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 41; XX, 95.

[272] XXIX, 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIX, 39.

[273] XXV, 50.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 50.

[274] XXV, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 5.

[275] VIII, 40; XXVIII, 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 40; XXVIII, 31.

[276] For further remedies used by animals see VIII, 41; XXIX, 14, 38; XXV, 52-53; XXVIII, 81.

[276] For more treatments used by animals, see VIII, 41; XXIX, 14, 38; XXV, 52-53; XXVIII, 81.

[277] XXVII, 2. “ ... quod certe casu repertum quis dubitet et quotiens fiat etiam nunc ut novom nasci quoniam feris ratio et usus inter se tradi non possit?” Perhaps Pliny would have denied the inheritance of acquired characteristics.

[277] XXVII, 2. “ ... Who could doubt that it’s certainly found by chance, and how often does it happen even now that something new is born when reason and experience can’t be passed down from one to another among wild animals?” Maybe Pliny would have rejected the idea of inheriting acquired characteristics.

[278] XXV, 51.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 51.

[279] XXXVII, 57.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 57.

[280] VIII, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 4.

[281] VIII, 33.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 33.

[282] XXIX, 34; XXX, 10, 19; XXVIII, 46; XXIX, 11; XXX, 16.

[282] XXIX, 34; XXX, 10, 19; XXVIII, 46; XXIX, 11; XXX, 16.

[283] XXX, 46.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 46.

[284] XXXII, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 14.

[285] XXVIII, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 37.

[286] A recent work on the general theme is Joret, Les plantes dans l’antiquité, Paris, 1904; see also F. Mentz, De plantis quas ad rem magicam facere crediderunt veteres, Leipzig, 1705, 28 pp.; F. Unger, Die Pflanze als Zaubermittel, Vienna, 1859.

[286] A recent publication on this general topic is Joret, Plants in Antiquity, Paris, 1904; also check out F. Mentz, About Plants Believed by the Ancients to Have Magical Properties, Leipzig, 1705, 28 pp.; F. Unger, The Plant as a Magical Tool, Vienna, 1859.

[287] XXII, 3; XXV, 59; XXVII, 28.

[287] XXII, 3; XXV, 59; XXVII, 28.

[288] XXI, 105. “Halicacabi radicem bibunt qui vaticinari gallantesque vere ad confirmandas superstitiones aspici se volunt.”

[288] XXI, 105. “They drink from the root of Halicacabi who want to predict and confidently uphold superstitions.”

[289] XXV, 43-44.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXV, 43-44.

[290] XXI, 21, 84.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21st, 21, 84.

[291] XXV, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 5.

[292] XXIII, 64.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 23, 64.

[293] XXV, 35.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 35.

[294] XXII, 36.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 22, 36.

[295] XXIV, 94.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 94.

[296] XXV, 46.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 46.

[297] XXV, 54.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 54.

[298] XXV, 78.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 78.

[299] XXIII, 75.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 23, 75.

[300] XXIV, 56-57.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIV, 56-57.

[301] XXV, 18; XXVII, 100.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 18; 27, 100.

[302] XX, 14; XXIV, 82; XXV, 92.

[302] XX, 14; XXIV, 82; XXV, 92.

[303] XXV, 10; XXVII, 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 10; 27, 60.

[304] XXIV, 6, 93.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 6, 93.

[305] XXV, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 6.

[306] XX, 49; XXI, 83; XXIII, 54; XXIV, 63; XXV, 59; XXVI, 12.

[306] XX, 49; XXI, 83; XXIII, 54; XXIV, 63; XXV, 59; XXVI, 12.

[307] XXIII, 59.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 23, 59.

[308] XXIV, 62.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 62.

[309] XXV, 21, 94.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 21, 94.

[310] XXIV, 63 and 118.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 63 and 118.

[311] XXI, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 19.

[312] XXIV, 62; XXIII, 59.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 62; 23, 59.

[313] XXIII, 81; XXIV, 6, 62, 116.

[313] XXIII, 81; XXIV, 6, 62, 116.

[314] XXVI, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 26, 12.

[315] XXI, 19; XXV, 21, 94.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 19; 25, 21, 94.

[316] XXIII, 71, 81; XXIV, 6; XXVII, 62.

[316] XXIII, 71, 81; XXIV, 6; XXVII, 62.

[317] XXI, 83; XXV, 109; XXVI, 12.

[317] XXI, 83; XXV, 109; XXVI, 12.

[318] XXII, 16; XXIII, 54; XXIV, 82; XXVII, 113.

[318] XXII, 16; XXIII, 54; XXIV, 82; XXVII, 113.

[319] XXIV, 116.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 116.

[320] XXV, 92.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 92.

[321] XXI, 19; XXV, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 19; 25, 11.

[322] XXIV, 62; XXV, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 62; 25, 21.

[323] XXIV, 62-63.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIV, 62-63.

[324] XVI, 95.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 16, 95.

[325] See XXIV, 6, for other methods of plucking the mistletoe.

[325] See XXIV, 6, for other ways to gather the mistletoe.

[326] XVIII, 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 18, 45.

[327] See also XXV, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See also 25, 6.

[328] XIX, 58.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 19, 58.

[329] XVIII, 70.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 18th, 70.

[330] XVIII, 73.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 18, 73.

[331] XXVIII, 81.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 81.

[332] XVIII, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 18, 8.

[333] XXXVII, 14, 73.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 14, 73.

[334] XXXVII, 55-56.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 55-56.

[335] XXXVII, 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 13.

[336] For instance, XXXVII, 12 amber, 37 jasper, 39 aetites, 55 “baroptenus.”

[336] For example, XXXVII, 12 amber, 37 jasper, 39 aetites, 55 “baroptenus.”

[337] XXXVI, 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 36, 31.

[338] XXXVII, 15, 58, 67.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 15, 58, 67.

[339] XXXVI, 25, 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 36, 25, 39.

[340] XVI, 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 16, 20.

[341] XXXIII, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 33, 25.

[342] XXX, 12, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 12, 25.

[343] XX, 3; XXVIII, 6, 9; etc.

[343] XX, 3; XXVIII, 6, 9; etc.

[344] II, 63; XXIX, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 63; XXIX, 23.

[345] XXXIII, 34

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 33, 34

[346] XX, 51; XXVIII, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XX, 51; XXVIII, 21.

[347] VII, 13; XXVIII, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 13; XXVIII, 23.

[348] XX, 33; XXII, 30; XXVIII, 18-19.

[348] XX, 33; XXII, 30; XXVIII, 18-19.

[349] XXVIII, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 8.

[350] XXVIII, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 9.

[351] XXVIII, 9-11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 9-11.

[352] XXVIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 7.

[353] VII, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 2.

[354] XXVIII, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 6.

[355] XXII, 49.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 22, 49.

[356] XXIV, 102.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 102.

[357] In this paragraph I have combined views expressed by Pliny in three different passages: XXII, 49 and 56; XXIV, 1.

[357] In this paragraph, I've put together ideas from Pliny found in three different sections: XXII, 49 and 56; XXIV, 1.

[358] IX, 88; XXIV, 1; XXVIII, 23; XXXII, 12; XXXVII, 15; etc.

[358] IX, 88; XXIV, 1; XXVIII, 23; XXXII, 12; XXXVII, 15; etc.

[359] XXIV, 1; XXIX, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 1; 29, 17.

[360] VIII, 50; XXVIII, 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 50; XXVIII, 42.

[361] XXIX, 17 and 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 17 and 23.

[362] XXVIII, 43.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 43.

[363] XX, 1. “Odia amicitiaque rerum surdarum ac sensu carentium ... quod Graeci sympathiam appellavere.” XXIV, 1. “Surdis etiam rerum sua cuique sunt venena ac minimis quoque ... Concordia valent.”

[363] XX, 1. “Friendship and the bond of things that are deaf and lack perception ... which the Greeks called sympathy.” XXIV, 1. “Even the deaf have their own poisons in everything and even in the smallest things ... Harmony is powerful.”

[364] XXVIII, 41; XXXVII, 15. Yet a note in Bostock and Riley’s translation, IV, 207, asserts, “Pliny is the only author who makes mention of this singularly absurd notion.”

[364] XXVIII, 41; XXXVII, 15. Yet a note in Bostock and Riley’s translation, IV, 207, states, “Pliny is the only author who mentions this ridiculously absurd idea.”

[365] “Nunc quod totis voluminibus his docere conati summus de discordia rerum concordiaque quam antipathiam Graeci vocavere ac sympathiam non aliter clarius intelligi potest.”

[365] “Now that we have tried to teach about the discord of things in whole volumes, and the harmony that the Greeks called antipathy and sympathy, it can be understood no more clearly.”

[366] XXIV, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 41.

[367] XXI, 47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 47.

[368] XX, 36.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XX, 36.

[369] XVI, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 16, 24.

[370] XXV, 55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 55.

[371] XXXVII, 54.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 54.

[372] XXIII, 62; XXIV, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 23, 62; 24, 1.

[373] XXVIII, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 41.

[374] XXIX, 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 32.

[375] XXVIII, 61.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 61.

[376] XXIX, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 27.

[377] XXVII, 74.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 27, 74.

[378] XXXVI, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 36, 11.

[379] XXV, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 3.

[380] XXII, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 22, 29.

[381] XXVIII, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 9.

[382] XXVIII, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 17.

[383] XXVIII, 47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 47.

[384] XXIX, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIX, 38.

[385] XXX, 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 20.

[386] XXVIII, 49.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 49.

[387] XXXII, 52.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 52.

[388] XXIX, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 27.

[389] XXX, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 7.

[390] XXXII, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 14.

[391] XXX, 20 and 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 20 and 14.

[392] XXXII, 29; XXX, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 29; 30, 11.

[393] XXVIII, 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 42.

[394] XXII, 65.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 22, 65.

[395] XXII, 72.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXII, 72.

[396] XXII, 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 22, 32.

[397] XXX, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 12.

[398] XXV, 106.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 106.

[399] XX, 81.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XX, 81.

[400] XXVIII, 47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 47.

[401] XXX, 12, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 12, 15.

[402] XXVII, 62.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 27, 62.

[403] XXIX, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIX, 17.

[404] XXIX, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIX, 24.

[405] XXVI, 89.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 26, 89.

[406] XXXII, 16; also XX, 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 16; also 20, 39.

[407] XXII, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 22, 30.

[408] XXIV, 32, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 32, 38.

[409] XX, 72, 82.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XX, 72, 82.

[410] XXVI, 69.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 26, 69.

[411] XXIX, 36.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIX, 36.

[412] XXX, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 8.

[413] XXVIII, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 10.

[414] XXXII, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 24.

[415] XXX, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 18.

[416] See also XXX, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See also XXX, 8.

[417] XXIV, 106 and 109.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIV, 106 and 109.

[418] XXIV, 107 and 110.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 107 and 110.

[419] Some examples are: XVIII, 75, 79; XXII, 72; XXIII, 71; XXVIII, 47; XXIX, 36; XXXII, 14, 25, 38, 46.

[419] Some examples are: 18, 75, 79; 22, 72; 23, 71; 28, 47; 29, 36; 32, 14, 25, 38, 46.

[420] XXXII, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 14.

[421] XXX, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 12.

[422] XXIV, 112.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 112.

[423] VIII, 50.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 50.

[424] XXVIII, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 6.

[425] XXIV, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 24, 17.

[426] XXX, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 15.

[427] XXIX, 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 34.

[428] XXXII, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 24.

[429] XXXII, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 38.

[430] XVII, 47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 17, 47.

[431] XIX, 36.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 19, 36.

[432] XVIII, 35.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 18, 35.

[433] XXVI, 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 26, 60.

[434] XXVIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 7.

[435] XXVII, 75.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 27, 75.

[436] XXVII, 106.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 27, 106.

[437] XXVIII, 3-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 3-4.

[438] XXVII, 35. “Catanancen Thessalam herbam qualis sit describi a nobis supervacuum est, cum sit usus eius ad amatoria tantum.” XXVII, 99. “Phyteuma quale sit describere supervacuum habeo cum sit usus eius tantum ad amatoria.”

[438] XXVII, 35. “Catanancen It's pointless to describe the Thessalam herb, since its only use is for love.” XXVII, 99. “Phyteuma It's unnecessary to describe what it is since its use is solely for love.”

[439] XXV, 7. “Ego nec abortiva dico ac ne amatoria quidem, memor Lucullum imperatorem clarissimum amatorio perisse....”

[439] XXV, 7. “I don't talk about abortions or even love affairs, remembering that the famous commander Lucullus perished due to his romantic pursuits....”

[440] A few examples are: XX, 15, 84, 92; XXIV, 11, 42; XXVI, 64; XXVII, 42, 99; XXVIII, 77, 80; XXX, 49; XXXII, 50.

[440] A few examples are: XX, 15, 84, 92; XXIV, 11, 42; XXVI, 64; XXVII, 42, 99; XXVIII, 77, 80; XXX, 49; XXXII, 50.

[441] XXII, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 22, 9.

[442] XXV, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 7.

[443] XXIX, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 29, 27.

[444] XXX, 1. On the general attitude to astrology of the preceding Augustan Age and its poets see H. W. Garrod, Manili Astronomicon Liber II, Oxford, 1911, pp. lxv-lxxiii, but I think he overestimates the probable effect of the edict of 16 A.D. upon the poem of Manilius.

[444] XXX, 1. For the overall perspective on astrology during the earlier Augustan Age and its poets, refer to H. W. Garrod, Manili Astronomicon Liber II, Oxford, 1911, pp. lxv-lxxiii, but I believe he overstates the likely impact of the edict from 16 A.D. on Manilius's poem.

[445] II, 5. “Astroque suo eventus adsignat nascendi legibus semelque in omnes futuros umquam deo decretum in reliquom vero otium datur.”

[445] II, 5. “Astrology indicates that the outcomes of our lives are determined by the laws of birth, and a divine decree is set for all that is to come, granting us peace in the long run.”

[446] VII, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 37.

[447] VII, 50.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 50.

[448] VII, 57.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 57.

[449] II, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 24.

[450] II, 6, “Non tanta caelo societas nobiscum est ut nostro fato mortalis sit ibi quoque siderum fulgor.”

[450] II, 6, “The connection between us and the heavens is not so great that the shine of the stars also experiences our mortal fate.”

[451] II, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 9.

[452] II, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 18.

[453] II, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 23.

[454] II, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 30.

[455] XXV, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 25, 5.

[456] II, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 1.

[457] II, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 4.

[458] II, 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 16.

[459] II, 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 13.

[460] II, 6; and see II, 39.

[460] II, 6; and see II, 39.

[461] II, 6. “Potentia autem ad terram magnopere eorum pertinens.”

[461] II, 6. “The power that greatly pertains to the land.”

[462] II, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 6.

[463] XVIII, 5, 57, 69.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 18, 5, 57, 69.

[464] XVIII, 68. Other authorities tell the story of Thales; see Cicero, De divinatione, II, 201; Aristotle, Polit. I, 7; and Diogenes Laertius.

[464] XVIII, 68. Other sources share the story of Thales; see Cicero, De divinatione, II, 201; Aristotle, Polit. I, 7; and Diogenes Laertius.

[465] XVIII, 78.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 18, 78.

[466] II, 81.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 81.

[467] XXXVII, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 28.

[468] XXXVII, 59.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 37, 59.

[469] XXIX, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXIX, 5.

[470] XXX, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXX, 29.

[471] II, 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 40.

[472] II, 102.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 102.

[473] II, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 41.

[474] XXXII, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 32, 19.

[475] L. Annaei Senecae Naturalium Quaestionum Libri Septem, VI, 4, “Aliquando de motu terrarum volumen iuvenis ediderim.” The edition by G. D. Koeler, Göttingen, 1819, devotes several hundred pages to a Disquisitio and Animadversiones upon Seneca’s work. I have also used the more recent Teubner edition, ed. Haase, 1881, and the English translation in Clark and Geikie, Physical Science in the Time of Nero, 1910. In Panckoucke’s Library, vol. 147, a French translation accompanies the text.

[475] L. Annaei Senecae Naturalium Quaestionum Libri Septem, VI, 4, “At some point, I’ll publish a volume on the movement of the Earth.” The edition by G. D. Koeler, Göttingen, 1819, includes several hundred pages of a Disquisitio and Animadversiones on Seneca’s work. I have also referenced the more recent Teubner edition, edited by Haase, 1881, and the English translation in Clark and Geikie, Physical Science in the Time of Nero, 1910. In Panckoucke’s Library, vol. 147, a French translation comes with the text.

[476] VII, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 25.

[477] VII, 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 31.

[478] III, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 26.

[479] V, 6, for animals generated in flames; II, 31, for snakes struck by lightning; III, passim for marvelous fountains.

[479] V, 6, for animals born from flames; II, 31, for snakes hit by lightning; III, passim for amazing fountains.

[480] III, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 25.

[481] IV, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 7.

[482] II, 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 32.

[483] II, 46.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 46.

[484] I, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 1.

[485] VII, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 30.

[486] II, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 10.

[487] VII, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 28.

[488] That is to say, five in addition to the sun and the moon.

[488] In other words, five more besides the sun and the moon.

[489] II, 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 32.

[490] III, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 29.

[491] II, 31-50.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 31-50.

[492] II, 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 32.

[493] A complete edition of Ptolemy’s works has been in process of publication since 1898 in the Teubner library by J. L. Heiberg and Franz Boll. They are also the authors of the most important recent researches concerning Ptolemy. See Heiberg’s discussion of the MSS in the volumes of the above edition which have thus far appeared; his articles on the Latin translations of Ptolemy in Hermes XLV (1910) 57ff, and XLVI (1911) 206ff; but especially Boll, Studien über Claudius Ptolemäus. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der griechischen Philosophie und Astrologie, 1894, in Jahrb. f. Philol. u. Pädagogik, Neue Folge, Suppl. Bd. 21. A recent summary of investigation and bibliography concerning Ptolemy is W. Schmid, Die Nachklassische Periode der Griechischen Litteratur, 1913, pp. 717-24, in the fifth edition of Christ, Gesch. d. Griech. Litt.

[493] A complete edition of Ptolemy's works has been in the process of publication since 1898 in the Teubner library by J. L. Heiberg and Franz Boll. They are also the authors of the most significant recent research regarding Ptolemy. See Heiberg's discussion of the manuscripts in the volumes of the above edition that have been published so far; his articles on the Latin translations of Ptolemy in Hermes XLV (1910) 57ff, and XLVI (1911) 206ff; but especially Boll, Studien über Claudius Ptolemäus. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der griechischen Philosophie und Astrologie, 1894, in Jahrb. f. Philol. u. Pädagogik, Neue Folge, Suppl. Bd. 21. A recent summary of investigation and bibliography concerning Ptolemy is W. Schmid, Die Nachklassische Periode der Griechischen Litteratur, 1913, pp. 717-24, in the fifth edition of Christ, Gesch. d. Griech. Litt.

[494] Some strictures upon Ptolemy as a geographer are made by Sir W. M. Ramsay, The Historical Geography of Asia Minor, 1890, pp. 69-73.

[494] Some criticisms of Ptolemy as a geographer are presented by Sir W. M. Ramsay, The Historical Geography of Asia Minor, 1890, pp. 69-73.

[495] Schmid would appear to be mistaken in saying that the Geography was already known in Latin and Arabic translation in the time of Frederick II (p. 718, “Seine in erster Linie die Astronomie, dann auch die Geographie und Harmonik betreffenden Schriften haben sich nicht bloss im Originaltext erhalten; sie wurden auch frühzeitig von den Arabern übersetzt und sind dann, ähnlich wie die Werke des Aristoteles, schon zur Zeit des Kaisers Friedrich II, noch ehe man sie im Urtext kennen lernte, durch lateinische, nach dem Arabischen gemachte Übersetzungen ins Abendland gelangt”), for in his own bibliography (p. 723) we read, “Geographie ... Frühste latein. Übersetzung des Jacobus Angelus gedruckt Bologna, 1462.” Apparently Schmid did not know the date of Angelus’ translation.

[495] Schmid seems to be wrong in claiming that the Geography was already known in Latin and Arabic translations during the time of Frederick II (p. 718, “Primarily, the writings concerning astronomy, then also geography and harmonics, have not only been preserved in the original text; they were also translated early on by the Arabs and, like the works of Aristotle, reached the West through Latin translations made from Arabic before they were known in their original text during the time of Emperor Frederick II.”), because in his own bibliography (p. 723) we read, “Geographie ... Earliest Latin translation by Jacobus Angelus printed in Bologna, 1462.” Clearly, Schmid was unaware of the date of Angelus' translation.

However, Duhem, III (1915) 417, also speaks as if the Geography were known in the thirteenth century: “les considérations empruntées à la Géographie de Ptolémée fournissent à Robert de Lincoln une objection contre le mouvement de précession des équinoxes tel qu’il est définé dans l’Almageste.” See also C. A. Nallino, Al-Huwarizmi e il suo rifacimento della geografia di Tolomeo, 1894, cited by Suter (1914) viii-ix, for a geography in Arabic preserved at Strasburg which is based on Ptolemy’s Geography.

However, Duhem, III (1915) 417, also suggests that the Geography was known in the thirteenth century: “the considerations taken from Ptolemy's Geography provide Robert of Lincoln with an objection to the movement of the precession of the equinoxes as defined in the Almagest.” See also C. A. Nallino, Al-Huwarizmi e il suo rifacimento della geografia di Tolomeo, 1894, cited by Suter (1914) viii-ix, for a geography in Arabic preserved at Strasburg that is based on Ptolemy’s Geography.

[496] In this Latin translation it is often entitled Cosmographia. Some MSS are: CLM 14583, 15th century, fols. 81-215, Cosmographia Ptolomei a Jacobo Angelo translata. Also BN 4801, 4802, 4803, 4804, 4838. Arsenal 981, in an Italian hand, is presumably incorrectly dated as of the 14th century.

[496] In this Latin translation, it’s often called Cosmographia. Some manuscripts include: CLM 14583, 15th century, fols. 81-215, Cosmographia Ptolomei a Jacobo Angelo translata. Also, BN 4801, 4802, 4803, 4804, 4838. Arsenal 981, written in an Italian style, is probably misdated to the 14th century.

This Jacobus Angelus was chancellor of the faculty of Montpellier in 1433 and is censured by Gerson in a letter for his superstitious observance of days.

This Jacobus Angelus was the chancellor of the faculty of Montpellier in 1433 and is criticized by Gerson in a letter for his superstitious practices regarding certain days.

[497] The several editions printed before 1500 seem to have consisted simply of this Latin translation, such as that of Bologna, 1462, and Vincentiae, 1475, and the Greek text to have been first published in 1507. See Justin Winsor, A Bibliography of Ptolemy’s Geography, 1884, in Library of Harvard University, Bibliographical Contributions, No. 18:—a bibliography which deals only with printed editions and not with the MSS. According to Schmid, however, the editio princeps of the Greek text was that of Basel, 1533. C. Müller’s modern edition (Didot, 1883 and 1901) gives an unsatisfactory bare list of 38 MSS. See also G. M. Raidel, Commentatio critico-literaria de Claudii Ptolemaei Geographia eiusque codicibus, 1737.

[497] The various editions printed before 1500 seem to have consisted simply of this Latin translation, like the one from Bologna in 1462 and Vincentiae in 1475, while the Greek text was first published in 1507. See Justin Winsor, A Bibliography of Ptolemy’s Geography, 1884, in Library of Harvard University, Bibliographical Contributions, No. 18:—a bibliography that only covers printed editions and not the manuscripts. However, according to Schmid, the editio princeps of the Greek text was the one from Basel in 1533. C. Müller’s modern edition (Didot, 1883 and 1901) provides an unsatisfactory, minimal list of 38 manuscripts. See also G. M. Raidel, Commentatio critico-literaria de Claudii Ptolemaei Geographia eiusque codicibus, 1737.

[498] L’ottica di Claudio Tolomeo da Eugenio ammiraglio di Sicilia ridotta in latino, ed. Gilberto Govi, Turin, 1885.

[498] The Optics of Claudius Ptolemy by Eugenio Admiral of Sicily translated into Latin, ed. Gilberto Govi, Turin, 1885.

[499] Schmid (1913) still cites it without qualification. Hammer-Jensen has an article, Ptolemaios und Heron, in Hermes, XLVIII (1913) 224, et seq.

[499] Schmid (1913) still references it without any qualifications. Hammer-Jensen has an article, Ptolemaios und Heron, in Hermes, XLVIII (1913) 224, et seq.

[500] Haskins and Lockwood, The Sicilian Translators of the Twelfth Century, in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, XXI (1910), 89.

[500] Haskins and Lockwood, The Sicilian Translators of the Twelfth Century, in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, XXI (1910), 89.

[501] Ibid., 89-94.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, 89-94.

[502] A. Heller, Geschichte der Physik von Aristoteles bis auf die neueste Zeit, 2 vols., Stuttgart, 1882-1884. The statement sounds a trifle improbable in view of the number of MSS still in existence.

[502] A. Heller, History of Physics from Aristotle to Modern Times, 2 vols., Stuttgart, 1882-1884. The claim seems a bit unlikely considering the number of manuscripts still around.

[503] Opus Maius, II, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Opus Maius, Vol. II, Ch. 7.

[504] The Dioptra of Hero is really geodetical.

[504] The Dioptra by Hero is truly about geodesy.

[505] Govi (1885), p. 151.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Govi (1885), p. 151.

[506] Ptolemy in Smith’s Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography.

[506] Ptolemy in Smith’s Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography.

[507] It was also so printed in Sphera cum commentis, 1518: “Explicit secundus et ultimus liber Ptolomei de Speculis. Completa fuit eius translatio ultimo Decembris anno Christi 1269.”

[507] It was also printed in Sphera cum commentis, 1518: “End of the second and last book of Ptolemy on the Spheres. The translation was completed in late December in the year 1269 AD.”

[508] C. H. Haskins and D. P. Lockwood, The Sicilian Translators of the Twelfth Century and the First Latin Version of Ptolemy’s Almagest, in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, XXI (1910) 75-102.

[508] C. H. Haskins and D. P. Lockwood, The Sicilian Translators of the Twelfth Century and the First Latin Version of Ptolemy’s Almagest, in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, XXI (1910) 75-102.

C. H. Haskins, Further Notes on Sicilian Translations of the Twelfth Century, Ibid., XXIII, 155-66.

C. H. Haskins, Further Notes on Sicilian Translations of the Twelfth Century, Ibid., XXIII, 155-66.

J. L. Heiberg, Eine mittelalterliche Uebersetzung der Syntaxis des Ptolemaios, in Hermes XLV (1910) 57-66; and Noch einmal die mittelalterliche Ptolemaios-Uebersetzung, Ibid., XLVI, 207-16.

J. L. Heiberg, A Medieval Translation of the Syntax of Ptolemy, in Hermes XLV (1910) 57-66; and Once Again the Medieval Ptolemy Translation, Ibid., XLVI, 207-16.

[509] Digby 51, 13th Century, fols. 79-114, “Liber iiii tractatuum Batolomei Alfalisobi in sciencia judiciorum astrorum.... Et perfectus est eius translatio de Arabico in Latinum a Tiburtino Platone cui Deus parcat die Veneris hora tertia XXa die mensis Octobris anno Domini MCXXVIII (sic) XV die mensis Saphar anno Arabum DXXXIII (sic) in civitate Barchinona....” The date of translation is given as October 2, 1138, in CUL 1767, 1276 A.D., fols. 240-76, “Liber 4 Partium Ptholomei Auburtino Palatone.”

[509] Digby 51, 13th Century, fols. 79-114, “Book of four treatises by Bartholomew Alfalisobi on the science of judgments of the stars.... And the translation from Arabic to Latin by Tiburtino Platone, may God have mercy on him, was completed on Friday at the third hour, the 20th day of October in the year of our Lord 1128 (sic), the 15th day of the month of Saphar in the year 533 of the Arabs (sic) in the city of Barcelona....” The date of translation is given as October 2, 1138, in CUL 1767, 1276 A.D., fols. 240-76, “Book 4 of the Parts of Ptolemy Auburtino Palatone.”

[510] It is found in an edition printed at Venice in 1493, “per Bonetum locatellum impensis nobilis viri Octaviani scoti civis Modoetiensis.”

[510] It is in an edition printed in Venice in 1493, “by Bonetum Locatellum, published at the expense of the noble man Octavian Scot, a citizen of Modoetius.”

[511] In the British Museum are editions of Venice, 1484, 1493, 1519; Paris, 1519; Basel, 1533; Louvain, 1548; it was also printed in 1551, 1555, 1578.

[511] The British Museum has editions from Venice, 1484, 1493, 1519; Paris, 1519; Basel, 1533; Louvain, 1548; it was also printed in 1551, 1555, 1578.

[512] In the British Museum are but three editions of the Greek text, all with an accompanying Latin translation: Nürnberg, 1535; Basel, 1553; and 1583.

[512] In the British Museum, there are only three editions of the Greek text, each with a Latin translation: Nürnberg, 1535; Basel, 1553; and 1583.

[513] Studien über Claudius Ptolemäus, 1894.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Studies on Claudius Ptolemy, 1894.

[514] “C’était la capitulation de la science.” Bouché-Leclercq in Rev. Hist., LXV, 257, note 3.

[514] “It was the surrender of science.” Bouché-Leclercq in Rev. Hist., LXV, 257, note 3.

[515] In the medieval Latin translation the Slavs replace the Scythians of Ptolemy’s text.

[515] In the medieval Latin translation, the Slavs take the place of the Scythians in Ptolemy’s text.

[516] Indeed, Hephaestion’s first two books are nothing but Ptolemy repeated. About contemporary with Ptolemy seems to have been Vettius Valens whose astrological work is extant: Vettius Valens, Anthologiarum libri primum edidit Guilelmus Kroll, Berlin, 1908. See also CCAG passim concerning both Hephaestion and Vettius Valens, and Engelbrecht, Hephästion von Theben und sein astrologisches Compendium, Vienna, 1887.

[516] Indeed, Hephaestion’s first two books are just a repetition of Ptolemy. Vettius Valens seems to have been a contemporary of Ptolemy, and his astrological work is still available: Vettius Valens, Anthologiarum libri primum edidit Guilelmus Kroll, Berlin, 1908. See also CCAG passim regarding both Hephaestion and Vettius Valens, and Engelbrecht, Hephästion von Theben und sein astrologisches Compendium, Vienna, 1887.

[517] James Finlayson, Galen: Two Bibliographical Demonstrations in the Library of the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow, 1895. Since then I believe that the only work of Galen to be translated into English is On the Natural Faculties, ed. A. J. Brock, 1916 (Loeb Library).

[517] James Finlayson, Galen: Two Bibliographical Demonstrations in the Library of the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow, 1895. Since then, I believe that the only work of Galen to be translated into English is On the Natural Faculties, ed. A. J. Brock, 1916 (Loeb Library).

[518] J. F. Payne, The Relation of Harvey to his Predecessors and especially to Galen: Harveian Oration of 1896, in The Lancet, Oct. 24, 1896, p. 1136.

[518] J. F. Payne, The Relationship of Harvey to His Predecessors and Especially to Galen: Harveian Oration of 1896, in The Lancet, Oct. 24, 1896, p. 1136.

[519] In the Teubner texts: Scriptora minora, 1-3, ed. I. Marquardt, I. Mueller, G. Helmreich, 1884-1893; De victu, ed. Helmreich, 1898; De temperamentis, ed. Helmreich, 1904; De usu partium, ed. Helmreich, 1907, 1909.

[519] In the Teubner texts: Scriptora minora, 1-3, edited by I. Marquardt, I. Mueller, G. Helmreich, 1884-1893; De victu, edited by Helmreich, 1898; De temperamentis, edited by Helmreich, 1904; De usu partium, edited by Helmreich, 1907, 1909.

In Corpus Medicorum Graecorum, V, 9, 1-2, 1914-1915, The Hippocratic Commentaries, ed. Mewaldt, Helmreich, Westenberger, Diels, Hieg.

In Corpus Medicorum Graecorum, V, 9, 1-2, 1914-1915, The Hippocratic Commentaries, ed. Mewaldt, Helmreich, Westenberger, Diels, Hieg.

[520] Carolus Gottlob Kühn, Claudii Galeni Opera Omnia, Leipzig, 1821-1833, 21 vols. My citations will be to this edition, unless otherwise specified. An older edition which is often cited is that of Renatus Charterius, Paris, 1679, 13 vols.

[520] Carolus Gottlob Kühn, Claudii Galeni Opera Omnia, Leipzig, 1821-1833, 21 vols. I will refer to this edition unless noted otherwise. A frequently cited older edition is by Renatus Charterius, Paris, 1679, 13 vols.

[521] The article on Galen in PW regards some of the treatises as printed in Kühn as almost unreadable.

[521] The article on Galen in PW considers some of the treatises printed in Kühn to be nearly unreadable.

[522] Although Kühn’s Index fills a volume, it is far from dependable.

[522] Although Kühn’s Index takes up a whole volume, it is hardly reliable.

[523] Liddell and Scott often fail to allude to germane passages in Galen’s works, even when they include, with citation of some other author, the word he uses.

[523] Liddell and Scott often overlook relevant passages in Galen’s works, even when they include, citing another author, the word he uses.

[524] Perhaps at this point a similarly candid confession by the present writer is in order. I have tried to do a little more than Dr. Payne in his modesty seems ready to admit of himself, and to look over carefully enough not to miss anything of importance those works which seemed at all likely to bear upon my particular interest, the history of science and magic. In consequence I have examined long stretches of text from which I have got nothing. For the most part, I thought it better not to take time to read the Hippocratic commentaries. At first I was inclined to depend upon others for Galen’s treatises on anatomy and physiology, but finally I read most of them in order to learn at first hand of his argument from design and his attitude towards dissection. Further than this the reader can probably judge for himself from my citations as to the extent and depth of my reading. My first draft was completed before I discovered that Puschmann had made considerable use of Galen for medical conditions in the Roman Empire in his History of Medical Education, English translation, London, 1891, pp. 93-113. For the sake of a complete and well-rounded survey I have thought it best to retain those passages where I cover about the same ground. I have been unable to procure T. Meyer-Steineg, Ein Tag im Leben des Galen, Jena, 1913. 63 pp.

[524] At this point, I think it's fair to share my own honest confession. I've tried to explore a bit more than Dr. Payne seems willing to acknowledge about himself, carefully examining works that might relate to my specific interest in the history of science and magic. As a result, I've gone through long sections of text that yielded nothing. For the most part, I decided it was better not to spend time reading the Hippocratic commentaries. Initially, I thought I would rely on other sources for Galen’s writings on anatomy and physiology, but in the end, I read most of them myself to understand his arguments for design and his views on dissection. Beyond that, the reader can likely gauge the breadth and depth of my reading from my citations. I completed my first draft before realizing that Puschmann had extensively referenced Galen regarding medical conditions in the Roman Empire in his History of Medical Education, English translation, London, 1891, pp. 93-113. To ensure a thorough and comprehensive overview, I’ve decided to keep those sections where I cover similar material. I haven’t been able to obtain T. Meyer-Steineg's Ein Tag im Leben des Galen, Jena, 1913. 63 pp.

[525] For an account of the MSS see H. Diels, Berl. Akad. Abh. (1905), 58ff. Some fragments of Galen’s work on medicinal simples exist in a fifth century MS of Dioscorides at Constantinople and have been reproduced by M. Wellmann in Hermes, XXXVIII (1903), 292ff. The first two books of his περὶ τῶν ἐν ταῖς τροφαῖς δυνάμεων were discovered in a Wolfenbüttel palimpsest of the fifth or sixth century by K. Koch; see Berl. Akad. Sitzb. (1907), 103ff.

[525] For details on the MSS, see H. Diels, Berl. Akad. Abh. (1905), 58ff. Some fragments of Galen’s work on medicinal plants are found in a fifth-century manuscript of Dioscorides in Constantinople and were published by M. Wellmann in Hermes, XXXVIII (1903), 292ff. The first two books of his περὶ τῶν ἐν ταῖς τροφαῖς δυνάμεων were found in a fifth or sixth-century palimpsest in Wolfenbüttel by K. Koch; see Berl. Akad. Sitzb. (1907), 103ff.

[526] Lancet (1896), p. 1135.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lancet (1896), p. 1135.

[527] For these see V. Rose, Analecta Graeca et Latina, Berlin, 1864. As a specimen of these medieval Latin translations may be mentioned a collection of some twenty-six treatises in one huge volume which I have seen in the library of Balliol College, Oxford: Balliol 231, a large folio, early 14th century (a note of ownership was added in 1334 at Canterbury) fols. 437, double columned pages. For the titles and incipits of the individual treatises see Coxe (1852).

[527] For these, see V. Rose, Analecta Graeca et Latina, Berlin, 1864. As an example of these medieval Latin translations, there is a collection of about twenty-six treatises in one large volume that I have seen in the library of Balliol College, Oxford: Balliol 231, a large folio from the early 14th century (a note of ownership was added in 1334 at Canterbury), fols. 437, double-column pages. For the titles and incipits of the individual treatises, see Coxe (1852).

[528] A. Merx, “Proben der syrischen Uebersetzung von Galenus’ Schrift über die einfachen Heilmittel,” Zeitsch. d. Deutsch. Morgendl. Gesell. XXXIX (1885), 237-305.

[528] A. Merx, “Samples of the Syrian Translation of Galen's Work on Simple Remedies,” Journal of the German Oriental Society. XXXIX (1885), 237-305.

[529] Payne, Lancet (1896), p. 1136.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Payne, *The Lancet* (1896), p. 1136.

[530] Ch. V. Daremberg, Exposition des connaissances de Galien sur l’anatomie, la physiologie, et la pathologie du système nerveux, Paris, 1841.

[530] Ch. V. Daremberg, Exposition des connaissances de Galien sur l’anatomie, la physiologie, et la pathologie du système nerveux, Paris, 1841.

[531] Lancet (1896), p. 1140.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lancet (1896), p. 1140.

[532] Brock (1916), p. xvi, says in 131 A.D. Clinton, Fasti Romani, placed it in 130.

[532] Brock (1916), p. xvi, mentions that in 131 A.D. Clinton, Fasti Romani, dated it to 130.

[533] These details are from the De cognoscendis curandisque animi morbis, cap. 8, Kühn, V, 40-44.

[533] These details are from the On Diagnosing and Treating Mental Disorders, chapter 8, Kühn, V, 40-44.

[534] De naturalibus facultatibus, III, 10, Kühn, II, 179.

[534] On Natural Abilities, III, 10, Kühn, II, 179.

[535] Kühn, X, 609 (De methodo medendi); also XVI, 223; and XIX, 59.

[535] Kühn, X, 609 (De methodo medendi); also XVI, 223; and XIX, 59.

[536] De anatom. administ., Kühn, II, 217, 224-25, 660. See also XV, 136; XIX, 57.

[536] De anatom. administ., Kühn, II, 217, 224-25, 660. See also XV, 136; XIX, 57.

[537] His recorded astronomical observations extend from 127 to 151 A.D.

[537] His recorded astronomical observations span from 127 to 151 A.D.

[538] Kühn, X, 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, X, 16.

[539] Fragments du commentaire de Galien sur le Timée de Platon, were published for the first time, both in Greek and a French translation, together with an Essai sur Galien considéré comme philosophe, by Ch. Daremberg, Paris, 1848.

[539] Fragments from Galen's Commentary on Plato's Timaeus were published for the first time, both in Greek and in a French translation, along with an Essay on Galen as a Philosopher by Ch. Daremberg, Paris, 1848.

[540] Kühn, XIII, 599-600.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, XIII, 599-600.

[541] Clinton, Fasti Romani, I, 151 and 155, speaks of a first visit of Galen to Rome in 162 and a second in 164, but he has misinterpreted Galen’s statements. When Galen speaks of his second visit to Rome, he means his return after the plague.

[541] Clinton, Fasti Romani, I, 151 and 155, talks about Galen's first visit to Rome in 162 and a second visit in 164, but he has misunderstood Galen's comments. When Galen refers to his second trip to Rome, he's actually talking about returning after the plague.

[542] Kühn, XIX, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kuhn, 19, 15.

[543] Kühn, XIV, 622, 625, 648; see also I, 54-57. and XII, 263.

[543] Kühn, XIV, 622, 625, 648; see also I, 54-57 and XII, 263.

[544] Kühn, XIV, 649-50.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, XIV, 649-50.

[545] R. M. Briau, L’Archiatrie Romaine, Paris, 1877, however, held that Galen never received the official title, archiater; see p. 24, “il est difficile de comprendre pourquoi le médecin de Pergame qui donnait des soins à l’empereur Marc Aurèle, ne fut jamais honoré de ce titre.” But he is given the title in at least one medieval MS—Merton 219, early 14th century, fol. 36v—“Incipit liber Galieni archistratos medicorum de malitia complexionis diversae.”

[545] R. M. Briau, L'Archiatrie Romaine, Paris, 1877, however, argued that Galen never officially held the title, archiater; see p. 24, “it is difficult to understand why the physician from Pergamum, who treated Emperor Marcus Aurelius, was never granted this title.” But he is referred to with the title in at least one medieval manuscript—Merton 219, early 14th century, fol. 36v—“Incipit liber Galieni archistratos medicorum de malitia complexionis diversae.”

[546] De venae sectione, Kühn, XIX, 524.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On bloodletting, Kühn, 19, 524.

[547] Kühn, XIII, 362-63; for another allusion to this fire see XIV, 66. Also II, 216; XIX, 19 and 41.

[547] Kühn, XIII, 362-63; for another reference to this fire see XIV, 66. Also II, 216; XIX, 19 and 41.

[548] For the statements of this paragraph see Kühn, XIV, 603-5, 620-23.

[548] For the statements in this paragraph, refer to Kühn, XIV, 603-5, 620-23.

[549] Kühn, X, 114.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, X, 114.

[550] Kühn, XIV, 599-600.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, 14, 599-600.

[551] Kühn, X, 1, 76.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, X, 1, 76.

[552] Kühn, X, 609.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, X, 609.

[553] Kühn, X, 4-5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, X, 4-5.

[554] Kühn, X, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, X, 10.

[555] Kühn, XII, 909, 916, and in vol. XIV the entire treatise De remediis parabilibus.

[555] Kühn, XII, 909, 916, and in vol. XIV the whole work De remediis parabilibus.

[556] Kühn, X, 560.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, X, 560.

[557] Kühn, X, 1010-11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, X, 1010-11.

[558] Kühn, XIII, 571-72.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, XIII, 571-72.

[559] Kühn, XIV, 62, and see Puschmann, History of Medical Education (1891), p. 108.

[559] Kühn, XIV, 62, and see Puschmann, History of Medical Education (1891), p. 108.

[560] Kühn, XIV, 10, 30, 79; and see Puschmann (1891), 109-11, where there is bibliography of the subject.

[560] Kühn, XIV, 10, 30, 79; and see Puschmann (1891), 109-11, where there is a bibliography on the topic.

[561] Kühn, X, 792.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, X, 792.

[562] Kühn, XIV, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, 14, 26.

[563] The meaning of the word “apothecary” is explained as follows in a fourteenth century manuscript at Chartres which is a miscellany of religious treatises with a bestiary and lapidary and bears the title, “Apothecarius moralis monasterii S. Petri Carnotensis.”

[563] The meaning of the word “apothecary” is explained as follows in a 14th-century manuscript at Chartres, which is a collection of religious writings, a bestiary, and a lapidary, and is titled “Apothecarius moralis monasterii S. Petri Carnotensis.”

“Apothecarius est, secundum Hugucium, qui nonnullas diversarum rerum species in apothecis suis aggregat.. .. Apothecarius dicitur is qui species aromaticas et res quacunque arti medicine et cirurgie necessarias habet penes se et venales exponit,” fol. 3. “According to Hugutius an apothecary is one who collects samples of various commodities in his stores. An apothecary is called one who has at hand and exposes for sale aromatic species and all sorts of things needful in medicine and surgery.”

“According to Hugutius, an apothecary is someone who collects various types of goods in their shops. An apothecary is someone who has and sells aromatic substances and everything necessary for medicine and surgery.”

[564] The nest of the fabled cinnamon bird was supposed to contain supplies of the spice, which Herodotus (III, 111) tells us the Arabian merchants procured by leaving heavy pieces of flesh for the birds to carry to their nests, which then broke down under the excessive weight. In Aristotle’s History of Animals (IX, 13) the nests are shot down with arrows tipped with lead. For other allusions to the cinnamon bird in classical literature see D’Arcy W. Thompson, A Glossary of Greek Birds, Oxford, 1895, p. 82.

[564] The nest of the legendary cinnamon bird was said to hold supplies of the spice, which Herodotus (III, 111) tells us Arabian merchants acquired by leaving heavy pieces of meat for the birds to bring back to their nests, causing them to fall apart under the heavy load. In Aristotle’s History of Animals (IX, 13), the nests are shot down with lead-tipped arrows. For additional references to the cinnamon bird in classical literature, see D’Arcy W. Thompson, A Glossary of Greek Birds, Oxford, 1895, p. 82.

[565] Kühn, XIV, 64-66.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, XIV, 64-66.

[566] Ad Pisonem de theriaca, Kühn, XIV, 217.

[566] On Theriac to Piso, Kühn, XIV, 217.

[567] Kühn, XIII, 704.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, XIII, 704.

[568] Kühn, XII, 168-78.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, XII, 168-78.

[569] M. Berthelot, “Sur les voyages de Galien et de Zosime dans l’Archipel et en Asie, et sur la matière médicale dans l’antiquité,” in Journal des Savants (1895), pp. 382-7. The article is chiefly devoted to showing that an alchemistic treatise attributed to Zosimus copies Galen’s account of his trips to Lemnos and Cyprus. Of such future copying of Galen we shall encounter many more instances.

[569] M. Berthelot, “On the Travels of Galen and Zosimus in the Archipelago and Asia, and on Medical Material in Antiquity,” in Journal des Savants (1895), pp. 382-7. The article mainly focuses on demonstrating that an alchemical treatise attributed to Zosimus replicates Galen’s description of his journeys to Lemnos and Cyprus. We will come across many more examples of this future imitation of Galen.

As for the terra sigillata, C. J. S. Thompson, in a paper on “Terra Sigillata, a famous medicament of ancient times,” published in the Proceedings of the Seventeenth International Congress of Medical Sciences, London, 1913, Section XXIII, pp. 433-44, tells of various medieval substitutes for the Lemnian earth from other places, and of the interesting religious ceremony, performed in the presence of the Turkish officials on only one day in the year by Greek monks who had replaced the priestess of Diana. Pierre Belon witnessed it on August 6th, 1533. By that time there were many varieties of the tablets, “because each lord of Lemnos had a distinct seal.” When Tozer visited Lemnos in 1890 the ceremony was still performed annually on August sixth and must be completed before sunrise or the earth would lose its efficacy. Mohammedan khodjas now shared in the religious ceremony, sacrificing a lamb. But in the twentieth century the entire ceremony was abandoned. Through the early modern centuries the terra sigillata continued to be held in high esteem in western Europe also, and was included in pharmacopeias as late as 1833 and 1848. Thompson gives a chemical analysis of a sixteenth century tablet of the Lemnian earth and finds no evidence therein of its possessing any medicinal property. Agricola in the sixteenth century wrote in his work on mining (De re metal., ed. Hoover, 1912, II, 31), “It is, however, very little to be wondered at that the hill in the Island of Lemnos was excavated, for the whole is of a reddish-yellow color which furnishes for the inhabitants that valuable clay so especially beneficial to mankind.”

As for the terra sigillata, C. J. S. Thompson, in a paper titled “Terra Sigillata, a Famous Medicament of Ancient Times,” published in the Proceedings of the Seventeenth International Congress of Medical Sciences, London, 1913, Section XXIII, pp. 433-44, discusses various medieval substitutes for the Lemnian earth from other locations, as well as an interesting religious ceremony performed only once a year in front of Turkish officials by Greek monks who took the place of the priestess of Diana. Pierre Belon observed it on August 6th, 1533. By that time, there were many different types of tablets, “because each lord of Lemnos had a distinct seal.” When Tozer visited Lemnos in 1890, the ceremony was still held annually on August sixth and had to be completed before sunrise; otherwise, the earth would lose its effectiveness. Mohammedan khodjas now participated in the religious ceremony, making a lamb sacrifice. However, by the twentieth century, the entire ceremony had been abandoned. Throughout the early modern centuries, the terra sigillata remained well-respected in western Europe and was included in pharmacopeias as late as 1833 and 1848. Thompson provides a chemical analysis of a sixteenth-century tablet of the Lemnian earth and finds no evidence of any medicinal properties. Agricola wrote in his mining work (De re metal., ed. Hoover, 1912, II, 31), “It is, however, very little to be wondered at that the hill in the Island of Lemnos was excavated, for the whole is of a reddish-yellow color which furnishes for the inhabitants that valuable clay so especially beneficial to mankind.”

[570] Kühn, XIV, 72.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, 14, 72.

[571] Kühn, XII, 226-9. See the article of Berthelot just cited in a preceding note for an explanation of the three names and of Galen’s experience. Mr. Hoover, in his translation of Agricola’s work on metallurgy (1912), pp. 573-4, says, “It is desirable here to enquire into the nature of the substances given by all of the old mineralogists under the Latinized Greek terms, chalcitis, misy, sory, and melanteria.” He cites Dioscorides (V, 75-77) and Pliny (NH, XXXIV, 29-31) on the subject, but not Galen. Yule (1903) I, 126, notes that Marco Polo’s account of Tutia and Spodium “reads almost like a condensed translation of Galen’s account of Pompholyx and Spodos.”

[571] Kühn, XII, 226-9. See the article by Berthelot mentioned in a previous note for an explanation of the three names and Galen’s experience. Mr. Hoover, in his translation of Agricola’s work on metallurgy (1912), pp. 573-4, says, “It’s useful to look into the nature of the substances referred to by all the old mineralogists using the Latinized Greek terms, chalcitis, misy, sory, and melanteria.” He references Dioscorides (V, 75-77) and Pliny (NH, XXXIV, 29-31) on the topic, but not Galen. Yule (1903) I, 126, notes that Marco Polo’s account of Tutia and Spodium “reads almost like a condensed translation of Galen’s account of Pompholyx and Spodos.”

[572] Kühn, XIV, 7-8; XIII, 411-2; XII, 215-6.

[572] Kühn, XIV, 7-8; XIII, 411-2; XII, 215-6.

[573] Kühn, XIV, 22-23, 77-78; XIII, 119.

[573] Kühn, XIV, 22-23, 77-78; XIII, 119.

[574] Kühn, XIV, 255-56. The beasts of course were also in demand for the arena.

[574] Kühn, XIV, 255-56. The animals were definitely desired for the arena.

[575] Kühn, X, 456-57, opening passage of the seventh book.

[575] Kühn, X, 456-57, opening passage of the seventh book.

[576] περὶ τῶν ἰδίων βιβλίων, Kühn, XIX, 8ff.; and περὶ τῆς τάξεως τῶν ἰδίων βιβλίων, XIX, 49 ff.

[576] about the individual books, Kühn, XIX, 8ff.; and about the order of the individual books, XIX, 49 ff.

[577] See, for instance, in the De methodo medendi itself, X, 895-96 and 955.

[577] For example, check out the De methodo medendi on pages X, 895-96 and 955.

[578] Kühn, XIV, 651: henceforth this text will generally be cited without name.

[578] Kühn, XIV, 651: from now on this text will usually be referred to without a name.

[579] XIX, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 19, 8.

[580] II, 217.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 217.

[581] XIX, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 19, 9.

[582] XIX, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 19, 41.

[583] II, 283.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 283.

[584] XIV, 630.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 630.

[585] XIX, 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 19, 34.

[586] XV, 109.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 15, 109.

[587] XIII, 995-96; XIV, 31-32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 995-96; XIV, 31-32.

[588] X, 633. Duruy refers to the passage in his History of Rome (ed. J. P. Mahaffy, Boston, 1886, V, i, 273), but says, “Extensive sanitary works were undertaken throughout all Italy, and the celebrated Galen, who was almost a contemporary, extols their happy effects upon the public health.” But Galen does not have sanitary considerations especially in mind, since he mentions Trajan’s road-building only by way of illustration, comparing his own systematic treatment of medicine to the emperor’s great work in repairing and improving the roads, straightening them by cut-offs that saved distance, but sometimes abandoning an old road that went straight over hills for an easier route that avoided them, filling in wet and marshy spots with stone or crossing them by causeways, bridging impassable rivers, and altering routes that led through places now deserted and beset by wild beasts so that they would pass through populous towns and more frequented areas. The passage thus bears witness to a shifting of population.

[588] X, 633. Duruy mentions the passage in his History of Rome (ed. J. P. Mahaffy, Boston, 1886, V, i, 273), but notes, “Extensive sanitation projects were carried out all over Italy, and the famous Galen, who lived around the same time, praises their positive impact on public health.” However, Galen doesn't specifically focus on sanitation, as he brings up Trajan’s road construction merely as an example, comparing his own systematic approach to medicine with the emperor’s major effort in repairing and upgrading the roads. He straightened them using shortcuts to save distance but sometimes chose easier routes that avoided the hills, filling in wet and marshy areas with stone or crossing them with causeways, bridging impossible rivers, and changing paths that went through now-abandoned areas plagued by wild animals to ensure they passed through thriving towns and busier regions. This passage thus reflects a change in population distribution.

[589] V, 49.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 49.

[590] V, 17-19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Vol. 17-19.

[591] Mentioned in Acts, xviii, 18, “ ... having shorn his head in Cenchrea: for he had a vow.”

[591] Mentioned in Acts, xviii, 18, “... he cut his hair in Cenchrea because he had made a vow.”

[592] V, 46-47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 46-47.

[593] X, 3-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 3-4.

[594] X, 831-36; XIII, 513; XIV, 27-29, and 14-19 on the heating and storage of wine.

[594] X, 831-36; XIII, 513; XIV, 27-29, and 14-19 about the warming and storage of wine.

[595] IV, 777-79.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 777-79.

[596] Similarly Milward (1733), p. 102, wrote of Alexander of Tralles, “He has in most distempers a separate article concerning wine and I much doubt whether there be in all nature a more excellent medicine than this in the hands of a skillful and judicious practitioner.”

[596] Similarly, Milward (1733), p. 102, wrote about Alexander of Tralles, “He has a separate section on wine for most ailments, and I seriously doubt there is a better remedy in all of nature than this in the hands of a skilled and wise practitioner.”

[597] IV, 821.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 821.

[598] Kühn, VIII, 579, ὡς εἰς Μωϋσοῦ καὶ Χριστοῦ διατριβὴν ἀφιγμένος νόμων ἀναποδεἍκίτων ἀκούη

[598] Kühn, VIII, 579, as for the teachings of Moses and Christ, having arrived at the study of laws, unbroken and complete in understanding.

[599] Ibid., p. 657, θᾶττον γὰρ ἄν τις τοὺς ἀπὸ Μωϋσοῦ καὶ Χριστοῦ μεταδιδάξειεν I have been unable to find a passage in which, according to Moses Maimonides of the twelfth century in his Aphorisms from Galen, Galen said that the wealthy physicians and philosophers of his time were not prepared for discipline as were the followers of Moses and Christ. Perhaps it is a mistranslation of one of the above passages. Particula 24 (56), “medici et philosophi cum aere augmentati non sunt preparati ad disciplinam sicut parati fuerunt ad disciplinam moysis et christi socii predictorum. decimotercio megapulsus.”

[599] Ibid., p. 657, for it is quicker for someone to teach those from Moses and Christ. I have been unable to find a passage where, according to Moses, Maimonides of the twelfth century in his Aphorisms referenced Galen, who claimed that the wealthy doctors and philosophers of his time weren’t as ready for discipline as the followers of Moses and Christ. Maybe it’s a mistranslation of one of the passages mentioned above. Particula 24 (56), “the wealthy doctors and philosophers are not prepared for discipline as the companions of Moses and Christ were prepared for discipline. Tenth of the thirteenth mega pulse.”

[600] Kühn, III, 905-7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, III, 905-7.

[601] Kühn, XI, 690-4; XII, 372-5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, XI, 690-4; XII, 372-5.

[602] Finlayson (1895); pp. 8-9; Harnack, Medicinisches aus der ältesten Kirchengeschichte, Leipzig, 1892.

[602] Finlayson (1895); pp. 8-9; Harnack, Medical Insights from Early Church History, Leipzig, 1892.

[603] Wellmann (1914), p. 16 note.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Wellmann (1914), p. 16 note.

[604] Kühn, IV, 816.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, IV, 816.

[605] Kühn, IV, 815.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, IV, 815.

[606] Quoted by Eusebius, V, 28, and reproduced by Harnack, Medicinisches aus der ältesten Kirchengeschichte, 1892, p. 41, and by Finlayson (1895), pp. 9-10.

[606] Quoted by Eusebius, V, 28, and reproduced by Harnack, Medical Insights from the Earliest Church History, 1892, p. 41, and by Finlayson (1895), pp. 9-10.

[607] Kühn, X, 16-17. J. Leminne, Les quatre éléments, in Mémoires couronnés par l’Académie de Belgique, vol. 65, Brussels, 1903, traces the influence of the theory in medieval thought.

[607] Kühn, X, 16-17. J. Leminne, The Four Elements, in Memoirs Awarded by the Academy of Belgium, vol. 65, Brussels, 1903, outlines the impact of the theory on medieval thinking.

[608] Kuhn, XIII, 763-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kuhn, XIII, 763-764.

[609] Kühn, I, 428.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, I, 428.

[610] Kühn, X, 111.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, X, 111.

[611] Kühn, XII, 166.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, 12, 166.

[612] I, 417.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 417.

[613] XIV, 250-53.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 250-53.

[614] XIII, 948.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 13, 948.

[615] X, 657.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 657.

[616] X, 872.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 872.

[617] XIX, 344-45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 19, 344-45.

[618] More recently Galen’s Materia medica has been treated of in a German doctoral dissertation by L. Israelson, Die materia medica des Klaudios Galenos, 1894, 204 pp.

[618] More recently, Galen’s Materia medica has been discussed in a German doctoral dissertation by L. Israelson, Die materia medica des Klaudios Galenos, 1894, 204 pp.

[619] X, 624.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 624.

[620] XIV, 253-54.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 253-54.

[621] V, 911.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 911.

[622] X, 817-19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 817-19.

[623] X, 843.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 843.

[624] XIV, 281.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 281.

[625] XII, 270-71.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 270-71.

[626] X, 368-71.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 368-71.

[627] Kühn, VIII, 363. Finlayson (1895), pp. 39-40, gives an English translation of Galen’s full account of the case.

[627] Kühn, VIII, 363. Finlayson (1895), pp. 39-40, provides an English translation of Galen’s complete account of the case.

[628] Puschmann (1891), pp. 105-6. Vitruvius, too, however (V, iii), states that sound spreads in waves like eddies in a pond.

[628] Puschmann (1891), pp. 105-6. Vitruvius also mentions (V, iii) that sound travels in waves like ripples in a pond.

[629] XIII, 435, 893, are two instances.

[629] XIII, 435, 893, are two examples.

[630] V, 80; XIV, 670.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 80; XIV, 670.

[631] Various treatises on the pulse by Galen will be found in vols. V, IX, and X of Kühn’s edition.

[631] You'll find different writings on the pulse by Galen in volumes V, IX, and X of Kühn’s edition.

[632] Galen’s contributions to the arts of clock-making and time-keeping have been dealt with in an article which I have not had access to and of which I cannot now find even the author and title.

[632] I haven’t had access to an article about Galen’s contributions to clock-making and time-keeping, and I can’t even find the author or title now.

[633] XIV, 631-34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 631-34.

[634] C. V. Daremberg, Exposition des connaissances de Galien sur l’anatomie, la physiologie, et la pathologie du système nerveux, Paris, 1841. J. S. Milne discussed “Galen’s Knowledge of Muscular Anatomy” at the International Congress of Medical Sciences held at London in 1913; see pp. 389-400 of the volume devoted to the history of medicine, Section XXIII.

[634] C. V. Daremberg, Exposition des connaissances de Galien sur l’anatomie, la physiologie, et la pathologie du système nerveux, Paris, 1841. J. S. Milne talked about “Galen’s Knowledge of Muscular Anatomy” at the International Congress of Medical Sciences in London in 1913; see pp. 389-400 of the volume focused on the history of medicine, Section XXIII.

[635] Lancet (1896), p. 1139.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lancet (1896), p. 1139.

[636] I have failed to obtain K. F. H. Mark, Herophilus, ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Medizin, Carlsruhe, 1838.

[636] I have not been able to get K. F. H. Mark, Herophilus, a Contribution to the History of Medicine, Carlsruhe, 1838.

[637] D’Arcy W. Thompson (1913), 22-23, thinks that the precedence of the heart over all other organs in appearing in the embryo of the chick led Aristotle to locate in it the central seat of the soul.

[637] D’Arcy W. Thompson (1913), 22-23, believes that the heart's early development compared to other organs in the chick embryo made Aristotle regard it as the main place of the soul.

[638] XIV, 626-30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 626-30.

[639] II, 683, 696. This and the other quotations in this paragraph are from Dr. Payne’s Harveian Oration as printed in The Lancet (1896), pp. 1137-39.

[639] II, 683, 696. This and the other quotes in this paragraph are from Dr. Payne’s Harveian Oration as printed in The Lancet (1896), pp. 1137-39.

[640] Kühn, V, 216, cited by Payne.

[640] Kühn, V, 216, cited by Payne.

[641] Kühn, II, 642-49; IV, 703-36, “An in arteriis natura sanguis contineatur.” J. Kidd, A Cursory Analysis of the Works of Galen so far as they relate to Anatomy and Physiology, in Transactions of the Provincial Medical and Surgical Association, VI (1837), 299-336.

[641] Kühn, II, 642-49; IV, 703-36, “In the arteries, the blood is contained by nature.” J. Kidd, A Cursory Analysis of the Works of Galen so far as they relate to Anatomy and Physiology, in Transactions of the Provincial Medical and Surgical Association, VI (1837), 299-336.

[642] Lancet (1896), p. 1137, where Payne states that Colombo (De re anatomica, Venet. 1559, XIV, 261) was the first to prove by experiment on the living heart that these veins conveyed blood from the lungs.

[642] Lancet (1896), p. 1137, where Payne states that Colombo (De re anatomica, Venet. 1559, XIV, 261) was the first to experimentally demonstrate on a living heart that these veins carried blood from the lungs.

[643] II, 146-47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 146-47.

[644] II, 384-86.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 384-86.

[645] II, 220-21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 220-21.

[646] Augustine testifies in two passages of his De anima et eius origine (Migne PL 44, 475-548), that vivisection of human beings was practiced as late as his time, the early fifth century: IV, 3, “Medici tamen qui appellantur anatomici per membra per venas per nervos per ossa per medullas per interiora vitalia etiam vivos homines quamdiu inter manus rimantium vivere potuerunt dissiciendo scrutati sunt ut naturam corporis nossent”; and IV, 6 (Migne, PL 44, 528-9).

[646] Augustine mentions in two sections of his De anima et eius origine (Migne PL 44, 475-548) that vivisection of human beings was still being done during his time, in the early fifth century. In IV, 3, he states, “However, the doctors known as anatomists examined living humans by cutting through their limbs, veins, nerves, bones, marrow, and vital organs for as long as those who were being dissected could survive, in order to understand the nature of the body”; and in IV, 6 (Migne, PL 44, 528-9).

[647] II, 537.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 537.

[648] II, 619-20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 619-20.

[649] II, 701.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 701.

[650] II, 631 ff.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 631 ff.

[651] XIII, 599-600. Galen states that the pontifex’s term of office was seven months, a fact which perhaps had some astrological bearing.

[651] XIII, 599-600. Galen mentions that the pontifex served for seven months, which might have had some astrological significance.

[652] X, 454-55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 454-55.

[653] II, 682.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 682.

[654] II, 291.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 291.

[655] IV, 360, et passim.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 360, and various places.

[656] IV, 687.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 687.

[657] IV, 694, 696.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 694, 696.

[658] IV, 688.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 688.

[659] IV, 700.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 700.

[660] IV, 692; II, 537. Others contend, he says (IV, 693), that one soul constructs the parts and another soul incites them to voluntary motion.

[660] IV, 692; II, 537. Others argue, he says (IV, 693), that one soul creates the parts while another soul drives them to move voluntarily.

[661] IV, 701.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 701.

[662] II, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 28.

[663] XVIII B, 17ff.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XVIII B, 17ff.

[664] De usu partium, XI, 14 (Kühn, III, 905-7). The passage seems to me an integral part of the work and not a later interpolation. Moses Maimonides in the twelfth century took exception at some length, in the 25th Particula of his Aphorisms from Galen, to this criticism of his national law-giver.

[664] On the Use of Parts, XI, 14 (Kühn, III, 905-7). This passage seems to me to be an essential part of the work and not a later addition. Moses Maimonides in the twelfth century responded at some length, in the 25th Particula of his Aphorisms from Galen, to this criticism of his national lawgiver.

[665] IV, 513; see also II, 55, ὡς ἔγωγε πρῶτον μὲν ἀκούσας τὸ γινόμενον, ἐθαύμασα καὶ αὐτὸς ἐβουλήθην αὐτόπτης αὐτοῦ καταστῆναι.

[665] IV, 513; see also II, 55, as I first heard about what was happening, I was amazed and wanted to see it for myself.

[666] X, 608; XIII, 887-88.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 608; XIII, 887-88.

[667] XIII, 964.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 964.

[668] II, 136; X, 385; XII, 311; he credited Plato with the same attitude, see II, 581.

[668] II, 136; X, 385; XII, 311; he credited Plato with the same attitude, see II, 581.

[669] II, 659-60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 659-60.

[670] XII, 446.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 446.

[671] II, 141, 179.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 141, 179.

[672] II, 179; X, 609.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 179; X, 609.

[673] II, 621.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 621.

[674] XIII, 891.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 891.

[675] XIII, 430-31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 430-31.

[676] XIII, 717.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 717.

[677] XI, 794; also XIII, 658; XIV, 61-62, and many other passages of the Antidotes.

[677] XI, 794; also XIII, 658; XIV, 61-62, and many other passages of the Antidotes.

[678] XII, 203. Pliny, NH XXXVI, 34, makes the same statement as Dioscorides.

[678] XII, 203. Pliny, NH XXXVI, 34, makes the same statement as Dioscorides.

[679] XII, 272.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 272.

[680] Pliny, NH XXVIII, 35, however, both tells how butter is made and of its use as food among the barbarians.

[680] Pliny, NH XXVIII, 35, however, describes how butter is made and its use as food among the uncivilized people.

[681] X, 40-41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 40-41.

[682] X, 127, 962.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 127, 962.

[683] X, 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 31.

[684] X, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 29.

[685] X, 668.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 668.

[686] X, 123.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 123.

[687] X, 915-16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 915-16.

[688] I, 75-76; XIV, 367.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 75-76; XIV, 367.

[689] I, 145; II, 41-43; X, 30-31, 782-83; XIII, 188, 366, 375, 463, 579, 594, 892; XIV, 245, 679.

[689] I, 145; II, 41-43; X, 30-31, 782-83; XIII, 188, 366, 375, 463, 579, 594, 892; XIV, 245, 679.

[690] X, 159.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 159.

[691] XIV, 675-76.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 675-76.

[692] I, 144-55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 144-55.

[693] XVI, 82.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XVI, 82.

[694] I, 135.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 135.

[695] XIV, 680.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 680.

[696] I, 131.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 131.

[697] I, 134.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 134.

[698] XVI, 82.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XVI, 82.

[699] II, 288.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 288.

[700] IX, 842; XIII, 887.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 842; XIII, 887.

[701] XIII, 116-17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 116-17.

[702] X, 28-29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 28-29.

[703] X, 684.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 684.

[704] X, 454-55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 454-55.

[705] XI, 420.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI, 420.

[706] XI, 434-35.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI, 434-35.

[707] XI, 456.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI, 456.

[708] XII, 246.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 246.

[709] XII, 336.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 336.

[710] XII, 365.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 365.

[711] XII, 258, 262, 269, 331.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 258, 262, 269, 331.

[712] XII, 334.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 334.

[713] VI, 453-55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 453-55.

[714] XIII, 463.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 463.

[715] XII, 895.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 895.

[716] XIV, 222.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 222.

[717] XIII, 700-701.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 700-701.

[718] XIII, 706-707.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 706-707.

[719] XIII, 467.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 467.

[720] XIII, 867.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 13, 867.

[721] XII, 392-93, 884; XIII, 116-17, 123, 125, 128-29, 354, 485, 502-503, 582, 656.

[721] XII, 392-93, 884; XIII, 116-17, 123, 125, 128-29, 354, 485, 502-503, 582, 656.

[722] XII, 968, 988.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 968, 988.

[723] See XII, 988; XIII, 960-61; XIV, 12, 60, 341.

[723] See XII, 988; XIII, 960-61; XIV, 12, 60, 341.

[724] XIV, 82.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 82.

[725] XIII, 570.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 570.

[726] XII, 350.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 350.

[727] XVI, 86-87; XI, 518.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XVI, 86-87; XI, 518.

[728] XI, 485.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI, 485.

[729] XVI, 85.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 16, 85.

[730] IX, 842.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 842.

[731] II, 206.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 206.

[732] I, 138.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 138.

[733] XVI, 80.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 16, 80.

[734] There would seem to be something wrong, at least with its arrangement as it now stands, for the first book ends (XIV, 389) with the words, “This my fourth book, O Glaucon, ends thus. If it has been useful to you, you will readily follow what I’ve written to Salomon the archiater.” But then the present second book opens with the words (XIV, 390), “Since you’ve asked me to write you about easily procurable remedies, O dearest Solon,” and goes on to say that the author will state what he has learned from experience beginning with the hair and closing with the feet.

[734] There seems to be something off, at least with the way it's arranged right now, because the first book ends (XIV, 389) with the words, “This my fourth book, O Glaucon, ends here. If it has been helpful to you, you will easily follow what I’ve written to Salomon the archiater.” But then, the second book starts with the words (XIV, 390), “Since you’ve asked me to write about easily available remedies, O dearest Solon,” and continues by saying that the author will share what he has learned from experience, starting with hair and ending with feet.

[735] XIV, 378.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 378.

[736] XIV, 462.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 462.

[737] XIV, 534.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 14, 534.

[738] XI, 205.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI, 205.

[739] John of St. Amand, Expositio in Antidotarium Nicolai, fol. 231, in Mesuae medici clarissimi opera, Venice, 1568. Pietro d’Abano, Conciliator, Venice, 1526, Diff. X, fol. 15; Diff. LX, fol. 83. Arnald of Villanova, Repetitio super Canon “Vita brevis,” fol. 276, in his Opera, Lyons, 1532.

[739] John of St. Amand, Exposition in Antidotarium Nicolai, page 231, in Mesuae medici clarissimi opera, Venice, 1568. Pietro d’Abano, Conciliator, Venice, 1526, Diff. X, page 15; Diff. LX, page 83. Arnald of Villanova, Repetition on Canon “Vita brevis,” page 276, in his Works, Lyons, 1532.

[740] Gilbertus Anglicus, Compendium medicinae, Lyons, 1510, fol. 328v., “Experimenta ex libro experimentorum Gal. experta.”

[740] Gilbertus Anglicus, Compendium medicinae, Lyons, 1510, fol. 328v., “Experiments from the book of experiments Gal. tested.”

[741] In his Expositio in Antidotarium Nicolai, as cited above (note 5).

[741] In his Expositio in Antidotarium Nicolai, as mentioned earlier (note 5).

[742] J. L. Pagel, Die Concordanciae des Johannes de Sancto Amando, Berlin, 1894, pp. 102-104. John also wrote commentaries on Galen, (Histoire Littéraire de la France, XXI, 263-65).

[742] J. L. Pagel, Die Concordanciae des Johannes de Sancto Amando, Berlin, 1894, pp. 102-104. John also wrote commentaries on Galen, (Histoire Littéraire de la France, XXI, 263-65).

[743] ed. Lyons, 1515, fols. 19v-2Ov.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ ed. Lyons, 1515, pp. 19-20.

[744] Berlin, 902, 14th century, fol. 175; Berlin 903, 1342 A.D., fol. 2.

[744] Berlin, 902, 14th century, fol. 175; Berlin 903, 1342 A.D., fol. 2.

[745] Boncompagni (1851), pp. 3-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Boncompagni (1851), pp. 3-4.

[746] Moses ben Maimon, Aphorisms, 1489. “Incipiunt aphorismi excellentissimi Raby Moyses secundum doctrinam Galieni medicorum principis ... collegi eos ex verbis Galieni de omnibus libris suis.... Et ego protuli super his afforismis quedam dicta que circumspexi et ea meo nomine nominavi et similiter protuli aliquos aphorismos aliquorum modernorum quos denominavi eorum nomine.”

[746] Moses ben Maimon, Aphorisms, 1489. “The excellent aphorisms of Rabbi Moses begin according to the teachings of Galen, the chief of physicians... I gathered them from Galen's words from all his works.... And I have presented certain statements regarding these aphorisms that I considered, and I named them in my own name, and similarly, I presented some aphorisms from certain modern thinkers which I named in their respective names.”

[747] Ed. C. V. Daremberg, Notices et Extraits des manuscrits médicaux, 1853, pp. 44-47, Greek text; pp. 229-33, French translation.

[747] Ed. C. V. Daremberg, Notices et Extraits des manuscrits médicaux, 1853, pp. 44-47, Greek text; pp. 229-33, French translation.

[748] Garrison, History of Medicine, 2nd edition, 1917, p. 141. But at p. 151 Garrison would seem mistaken in stating that Gentile died in 1348, for in the MS of which I shall speak in the next footnote his treatise on critical days is dated back in the year 1362: “Tractatus de enumeratione dierum creticorum m’i Gentilis anni 1362,” at fol. 125; while at fol. 162 we read, “Explicit questio ... m’i Zentilis anno Domini 1359 de mense marcii, et scripta Pisis de mense octobris 1359.” It is possible but rather unlikely that the dates later than 1348 refer to the labors of copyists. Venetian MSS contain not only a De reductione medicinarum ad actum by Gentile, written at Perugia in April, 1342 (S. Marco, XIV, 7, 14th century, fols. 44-48); but also “Suggestions concerning the pestilence which was at Genoa in 1348,” by him (S. Marco, XIV, 26, 15th century, fols. 99-100, consilia de peste quae fuit Ianuae anno 1348). Valentinelli’s catalogue of the MSS in the Library of St. Mark’s does not help, however, to clear up the question when Gentile died, since in one place (IV, 235) Valentinelli assures us that he died at Bologna in 1310, and in another place (V, 19) says that he died at Perugia in 1348.

[748] Garrison, History of Medicine, 2nd edition, 1917, p. 141. But on p. 151, Garrison seems to be mistaken in claiming that Gentile died in 1348, because in the manuscript I will reference in the next footnote, his treatise on critical days is dated from 1362: “Tractatus de enumeratione dierum creticorum m’i Gentilis anni 1362,” at fol. 125; while at fol. 162 we find, “Explicit questio ... m’i Zentilis anno Domini 1359 de mense marcii, et scripta Pisis de mense octobris 1359.” It's possible but quite unlikely that the dates later than 1348 are related to the work of copyists. Venetian manuscripts include not only a De reductione medicinarum ad actum by Gentile, written in Perugia in April 1342 (S. Marco, XIV, 7, 14th century, fols. 44-48); but also “Suggestions concerning the pestilence which was at Genoa in 1348,” authored by him (S. Marco, XIV, 26, 15th century, fols. 99-100, consilia de peste quae fuit Ianuae anno 1348). However, Valentinelli’s catalogue of the manuscripts in the Library of St. Mark’s does not clarify when Gentile died, since in one instance (IV, 235), Valentinelli claims he died in Bologna in 1310, and in another instance (V, 19) states that he died in Perugia in 1348.

[749] Cortona 110, early years of 15th century, fol. 128, Rationes Gentilis contra Galenum in quinto aphorismi. This MS contains several other works by Gentile da Foligno.

[749] Cortona 110, early years of the 15th century, fol. 128, Rationes Gentilis contra Galenum in quinto aphorismi. This manuscript includes several other works by Gentile da Foligno.

[750] XIV, 601.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 601.

[751] XIV, 605.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 605.

[752] XIV, 615.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 615.

[753] XIV, 625.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 625.

[754] XIV, 655.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 655.

[755] I, 54-55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 54-55.

[756] XII, 263.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 263.

[757] XII, 306.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 306.

[758] XII, 307.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 307.

[759] XI, 792-93.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI, 792-93.

[760] XII, 283.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 283.

[761] XII, 251-53.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 251-53.

[762] IV, 688.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 688.

[763] Natural History, XXVIII, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Natural History, Vol. 28, No. 2.

[764] XII, 248, 284-85, 290.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 248, 284-85, 290.

[765] XII, 293.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 293.

[766] XIV, 255. (To Piso on theriac.)

[766] XIV, 255. (To Piso on theriac.)

[767] XII, 291-92.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 291-92.

[768] XII, 298.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 298.

[769] XII, 304.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 304.

[770] XII, 342.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 342.

[771] XII, 276-77.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 276-77.

[772] XII, 367-69.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 367-69.

[773] XIII, 949-50, 954-55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 949-50, 954-55.

[774] XII, 343. These form the titles of four successive chapters, De simplic., XI, i, caps. 19-22.

[774] XII, 343. These are the titles of four consecutive chapters, De simplic., XI, i, caps. 19-22.

[775] XII, 359, 942-43, 977.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 359, 942-43, 977.

[776] XII, 856.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 856.

[777] XII, 860.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 860.

[778] XII, 360.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 360.

[779] XII, 366-67.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 366-67.

[780] XII, 335.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 335.

[781] A fact which—one cannot help remarking—considering the character of most ancient remedies for hydrophobia, only tends to make their recovery seem the more marvelous.

[781] It's a fact that—one can't help but notice—given the nature of most ancient treatments for rabies, it makes their recovery seem even more amazing.

[782] XIV, 233.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 233.

[783] XII, 250-51.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 250-51.

[784] XIV, 224-25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 224-25.

[785] II, 45-48.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 45-48.

[786] XII, 358-59. Concerning the virtue of river crabs we may also quote from a story told in Nias Island, west of Sumatra: “for had he only eaten river crabs, men would have cast their skin like crabs, and so, renewing their youth perpetually, would never have died.”—From J. G. Frazer (1918), I, 67. The belief that the serpent annually changes its skin and renews its youth may account for the virtues ascribed to the flesh of vipers and to theriac in the following paragraphs.

[786] XII, 358-59. Regarding the virtue of river crabs, we can reference a story from Nias Island, west of Sumatra: “if he had only eaten river crabs, people would have shed their skins like crabs, and thus, continually renewing their youth, would never die.”—From J. G. Frazer (1918), I, 67. The belief that the serpent changes its skin every year and renews its youth might explain the qualities attributed to the flesh of vipers and to theriac in the next paragraphs.

[787] περὶ τῶν ἰδιότητι τῆς ὅλης οὐσίας ἐνεργοῦντων.

[787] About the characteristics of the whole substance acting.

[788] IV, 760-61, ἐνεργεῖν τὰς οὐσίας κατ’ ἰδίαν ἑκάστην φύσιν.

[788] IV, 760-61, to act according to the unique nature of each substance.

[789] XII, 311-15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 311-15.

[790] Ad Pisonem de theriaca; De theriaca ad Pamphilianum.

[790] On Theriac to Piso; On Theriac to Pamphilianus.

[791] XIV, 2-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 2-3.

[792] XIV, 217.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 217.

[793] XIV, 271-80.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 271-80.

[794] XIV, 283.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 283.

[795] XIV, 294.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 294.

[796] XII, 317-18; XIV, 45-46, 238.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 317-18; XIV, 45-46, 238.

[797] XIV, 238-39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 238-39.

[798] XIII, 371, 374.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 371, 374.

[799] XIII, 134.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 134.

[800] XIII, 242.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 242.

[801] XI, 859.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 11, 859.

[802] XII, 573; see also XIII, 256.

[802] XII, 573; see also XIII, 256.

[803] XI, 860.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI, 860.

[804] XII, 295-96.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XII, 295-96.

[805] XII, 207.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 207.

[806] A representation of the Agathodaemon; see C. W. King, The Gnostics and their Remains, London, 1887, p. 220.

[806] A depiction of the Agathodaemon; refer to C. W. King, The Gnostics and their Remains, London, 1887, p. 220.

[807] XII, 288-89. At II, 163, Galen again accepts the notion that human saliva is fatal to scorpions.

[807] XII, 288-89. At II, 163, Galen again agrees with the idea that human saliva is deadly to scorpions.

[808] XIV, 321.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 321.

[809] XIV, 349.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 349.

[810] XIV, 386-87.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 386-87.

[811] XIV, 343.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 343.

[812] XIV, 413.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 413.

[813] XIV, 427.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 427.

[814] XIV, 430.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 430.

[815] XIV, 471.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 471.

[816] XIV, 472.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 472.

[817] XIV, 476. And others, “Ut ne cui penis arrigi possit,” and “Ad arrectionem pudendi.”

[817] XIV, 476. And others, “So that no one can get an erection,” and “For the erection of the genitals.”

[818] “The Psoranthea bituminosa of Linnaeus. It is found on declivities near the sea-coast in the south of Europe,” says a note in Bostock and Riley’s The Natural History of Pliny (Bohn Library), IV, 330. Pliny, too (XXI, 88), states that trefoil is poisonous itself and to be used only as a counter-poison.

[818] “The Psoranthea bituminosa of Linnaeus. It grows on slopes close to the seaside in southern Europe,” says a note in Bostock and Riley’s The Natural History of Pliny (Bohn Library), IV, 330. Pliny also mentions (XXI, 88) that trefoil is toxic on its own and should only be used as an antidote.

[819] XIV, 491; a good example of the power of suggestion.

[819] XIV, 491; a great example of the power of suggestion.

[820] XIV, 498.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 498.

[821] XIV, 502.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 502.

[822] XIV, 505.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 505.

[823] XIV, 517.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 517.

[824] XIV, 567ff.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 567ff.

[825] I, 305-412.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 305-412.

[826] Galen in PW.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Galen in PW.

[827] I, 325-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 325-6.

[828] XVII B, 212 and 834.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 17B, 212 and 834.

[829] Partic. 6, Kühn, XIV, 253.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Part 6, Kühn, XIV, 253.

[830] Kühn, XIV, 255.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, 14, 255.

[831] These passages all come from the 24th Particula of Maimonides’ Aphorisms, which is devoted especially to marvels:—“Incipit particula xxiiii continens aphorismos dependentes a miraculis repertis in libris medicorum,” from an edition of the Aphorisms dated 1489 and numbered IA.28878 in the British Museum. The same section contains still other marvels from the works of Galen.

[831] These excerpts are all from the 24th Particula of Maimonides’ Aphorisms, which focuses specifically on wonders:—“Incipit particula xxiiii continens aphorismos dependentes a miraculis repertis in libris medicorum,” from an edition of the Aphorisms dated 1489 and numbered IA.28878 in the British Museum. This section also includes other wonders from the writings of Galen.

[832] Kühn, VI, 832-5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, VI, 832-5.

[833] VI, 833.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 833.

[834] XVI, 222-23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XVI, 222-23.

[835] I, 53.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 53.

[836] Coeli status, or ἡ κατάστασις. X, 593-96, 625, 634, 645, 647-48, 658, 662, 685, 737, 759-60, 778, 829, etc.

[836] Coeli status, or ἡ κατάστασις. X, 593-96, 625, 634, 645, 647-48, 658, 662, 685, 737, 759-60, 778, 829, etc.

[837] X, 688; XIII, 544; XIV, 285.

[837] X, 688; XIII, 544; XIV, 285.

[838] XII, 356.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 356.

[839] XIV, 298.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 298.

[840] XI, 798.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI, 798.

[841] II, 26-28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 26-28.

[842] XIX, 529-30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 19, 529-30.

[843] XIX, 534-73.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 19, 534-73.

[844] IX, 794.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 794.

[845] IX, 901-2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 901-2.

[846] IX, 904.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 904.

[847] IX, 908-10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 908-10.

[848] IX, 913.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 913.

[849] IX, 922.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 922.

[850] IX, 935.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 935.

[851] Kühn, XIX, 22-345. Plutarch, Opera, ed. Didot, De placitis philosophorum, pp. 1065-1114; in Plutarch’s Miscellanies and Essays, English translation, 1889, III, 104-92. The wording of the two versions differs somewhat and in Galen’s works it is divided simply into 37 chapters, whereas in Plutarch’s works it is divided into five books and many more chapters.

[851] Kühn, XIX, 22-345. Plutarch, Opera, ed. Didot, De placitis philosophorum, pp. 1065-1114; in Plutarch’s Miscellanies and Essays, English translation, 1889, III, 104-92. The wording in the two versions is slightly different, and in Galen’s works, it is simply divided into 37 chapters, while in Plutarch’s works, it is split into five books and many more chapters.

[852] XIX, 320-21; De plac. philos., V, 1-2.

[852] XIX, 320-21; De plac. philos., V, 1-2.

[853] XIX, 253; De plac. philos., I, 8.

[853] XIX, 253; De plac. philos., I, 8.

[854] Kühn, XIX, 261-62; De placitis philosophorum, I, 28; “ἡ δὲ εἱμαρμένη ἐστὶν αἰθέριον σῶμα. σπέρμα τῆστῶν πάντων γενέσεως.“

[854] Kühn, XIX, 261-62; On the Opinions of Philosophers, I, 28; “Fate is an etheric body. It is the seed of all things coming into being.”

[855] XIX, 333.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 19, 333.

[856] XIX, 274; De plac. philos., II, 19.

[856] XIX, 274; On the Pleasures of Philosophy, II, 19.

[857] XIX, 265; De plac. philos., II, 5.

[857] XIX, 265; De plac. philos., II, 5.

[858] As much can hardly be said of our present day architects, whose fantastic tin cornices projecting far out from the roofs of high buildings and rows of stones poised horizontally in mid-air, with no other visible support than a plate glass window beneath, remind one forcibly and painfully of the deceits and levitations of magicians.

[858] It's hard to say the same about our modern architects, whose outrageous metal cornices jutting far out from the roofs of tall buildings and lines of stones seemingly floating in mid-air, supported only by a plate glass window below, strongly and painfully bring to mind the tricks and illusions of magicians.

[859] De architectura, ed. F. Krohn, Leipzig, Teubner, 1912, VIII, iii, 24. A recent English translation of Vitruvius is by M. H. Morgan, Harvard University Press, 1914.

[859] De architectura, ed. F. Krohn, Leipzig, Teubner, 1912, VIII, iii, 24. A recent English translation of Vitruvius is by M. H. Morgan, Harvard University Press, 1914.

[860] VIII, iii, 16, 20-21, 24-5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, iii, 16, 20-21, 24-5.

[861] III, i.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, i.

[862] V, Introduction, 3-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, Intro, 3-4.

[863] V, vi, 1. The wording is that of Morgan’s translation.

[863] V, vi, 1. The wording is from Morgan's translation.

[864] VI, i, 3-4, 9-10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, i, 3-4, 9-10.

[865] IX, vi, 2-3, Morgan’s translation.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, vi, 2-3, Morgan's translation.

[866] III, Introduction, 3, ” ... There should be the greatest indignation when, as often, good judges are flattered by the charm of social entertainments into an approbation which is a mere pretence.”

[866] III, Introduction, 3, ” ... There should be the highest level of outrage when, as is often the case, good judges are lured by the allure of social events into giving approval that is nothing but a facade.”

[867] Idem.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Likewise.

[868] VI, Introduction, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, Intro, 5.

[869] II, Introduction. Vitruvius continues, “But as for me, Emperor, nature has not given me stature, age has marred my face, and my strength is impaired by ill health. Therefore, since these advantages fail me, I shall win your approval, as I hope, by the help of my knowledge and my writings.”

[869] II, Introduction. Vitruvius continues, “But for me, Emperor, nature hasn't blessed me with height, age has taken a toll on my appearance, and my health has weakened my strength. So, since I lack these advantages, I hope to earn your approval through my knowledge and my writings.”

[870] III, Introduction, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, Intro, 2.

[871] VII, Introduction, 1-10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, Intro, 1-10.

[872] VI, Introduction, 2. Also IX, Introduction, where authors are declared superior to the victorious athletes in the Olympian, Pythian, Isthmian, and Nemean games.

[872] VI, Introduction, 2. Also IX, Introduction, where authors are acknowledged as superior to the winning athletes in the Olympic, Pythian, Isthmian, and Nemean games.

[873] VII, Introd., 11-14; IX, Introd.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, Intro, 11-14; IX, Intro.

[874] IX, Introd., 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, Intro, 17.

[875] VII, Introd., 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, Intro, 10.

[876] VIII, iii, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 8th, 3rd, 27.

[877] IX, vii, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 7, 7.

[878] IX, Introd.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, Intro.

[879] VII, v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, v.

[880] VII, Introd., 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, Intro, 18.

[881] V, i, 6-10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, i, 6-10.

[882] X, i, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, I, 4.

[883] X, vii.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, vii.

[884] IX, viii.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 8.

[885] IX, viii, 2 and 4; X, vii, 4.

[885] IX, viii, 2 and 4; X, vii, 4.

[886] NH, VII, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, VII, 38.

[887] The work of Martin, Recherches sur la vie et les ouvrages d’Héron d’Alexandrie, Paris, 1854, and the accounts of Hero in histories of physics and mathematics such as those of Heller and Cajori, must now be supplemented by the long article in Pauly and Wissowa, Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft, (1912), cols. 992-1080. A recent briefer summary in English is the article by T. L. Heath, EB, 11th edition, XIII, 378. See also Hammer-Jensen, Ptolemaios und Heron, in Hermes, XLVIII (1913), p. 224, et seq.

[887] The work of Martin, Recherches sur la vie et les ouvrages d’Héron d’Alexandrie, Paris, 1854, and the accounts of Hero in histories of physics and mathematics like those by Heller and Cajori, should now be complemented by the detailed article in Pauly and Wissowa, Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft, (1912), cols. 992-1080. A recent shorter summary in English is the article by T. L. Heath, EB, 11th edition, XIII, 378. See also Hammer-Jensen, Ptolemaios und Heron, in Hermes, XLVIII (1913), p. 224, et seq.

The writings ascribed to Hero, hitherto scattered about in various for the most part inaccessible editions and MSS, are now appearing in a single Teubner edition, of which five vols. have appeared, 1899, 1900, 1903, 1912, 1914, including respectively, the Pneumatics and Automatic Theater, the Mechanics and Mirrors, the Metrics and Dioptra, the Definitions and geometrical remains, Stereometrica and De mensuris and De geodaesia. For the Belopoiika or work on military engines see C. Wescher, Poliorcétique des Grecs, Paris, 1867. In English we have The Pneumatics of Hero of Alexandria, translated for Bennet Woodcroft by J. G. Greenwood, London, 1851. A number of articles on Hero by Heiberg, Carra de Vaux, Schmidt, and others will be found in Bibliotheca Mathematica and Sudhoff’s Archiv f. d. Gesch. d. Naturwiss. u. d. Technik.

The works attributed to Hero, which have been scattered across various, mostly hard-to-access editions and manuscripts, are now being published in a single Teubner edition. Five volumes have been released in 1899, 1900, 1903, 1912, and 1914, which include the Pneumatics and Automatic Theater, the Mechanics and Mirrors, the Metrics and Dioptra, the Definitions and geometrical remains, as well as Stereometrica, De mensuris, and De geodaesia. For the Belopoiika or treatise on military engines, see C. Wescher, Poliorcétique des Grecs, Paris, 1867. In English, we have The Pneumatics of Hero of Alexandria, translated for Bennet Woodcroft by J. G. Greenwood, London, 1851. Several articles on Hero by Heiberg, Carra de Vaux, Schmidt, and others can be found in Bibliotheca Mathematica and Sudhoff’s Archiv f. d. Gesch. d. Naturwiss. u. d. Technik.

[888] παρὰ Ἥρωνος Κτησιβίου.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ by Heron of Alexandria.

[889] Heath in EB, XIII, 378; Heiberg (1914), V, ix.

[889] Heath in EB, XIII, 378; Heiberg (1914), V, ix.

[890] PW, Heron.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ PW, Heron.

[891] Baur (1912), p. 417.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Baur (1912), p. 417.

[892] In the first chapter of the Automatic Theater he says, “The ancients called those who constructed such things thaumaturges because of the astounding character of the spectacle.”

[892] In the first chapter of the Automatic Theater he says, “The ancients called those who built such things miracle workers because of the amazing nature of the spectacle.”

[893] PW, 1045.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Password, 10:45.

[894] But perhaps this is a medieval interpolation in the nature of a crude Christian attempt to depict “the firmament in the midst of the waters” (Genesis, I, 6). However, it also somewhat resembles the universe of the Greek philosopher, Leucippus, who “made the earth a hemisphere with a hemisphere of air above, the whole surrounded by the supporting crystal sphere which held the moon. Above this came the planets, then the sun”—Orr (1913), p. 63 and Fig. 13. See also K. Tittel, “Das Weltbild bei Heron,” in Bibl. Math. (1907-1908), pp. 113-7.

[894] But maybe this is a medieval addition, a rough attempt by Christians to illustrate “the firmament in the midst of the waters” (Genesis, I, 6). Still, it also somewhat resembles the universe described by the Greek philosopher, Leucippus, who “made the earth a hemisphere with a hemisphere of air above, the whole surrounded by the supporting crystal sphere that held the moon. Above this came the planets, then the sun”—Orr (1913), p. 63 and Fig. 13. See also K. Tittel, “Das Weltbild bei Heron,” in Bibl. Math. (1907-1908), pp. 113-7.

[895] Berthelot (1885), pp. 68-9. For the following account of Greek alchemy I have followed Berthelot’s three works, Les Origines de l’Alchimie, 1885; Collection des anciens Alchimistes Grecs, 3 vols., 1887-1888; Introduction à l’Étude de la Chimie, 1889. Berthelot made a good many books from too few MSS; went over the same ground repeatedly; and sometimes had to correct his previous statements; but still remains the fullest account of the subject. E. O. v. Lippmann, Entstehung und Ausbreitung der Alchemie, 1919, is still based largely on Berthelot’s publications. In English see C. A. Browne, “The Poem of the Philosopher Theophrastos upon the Sacred Art: A Metrical Translation with Comments upon the History of Alchemy,” in The Scientific Monthly, September, 1920, pp. 193-214.

[895] Berthelot (1885), pp. 68-9. For the following overview of Greek alchemy, I’ve referenced Berthelot’s three works, Les Origines de l’Alchimie, 1885; Collection des anciens Alchimistes Grecs, 3 vols., 1887-1888; Introduction à l’Étude de la Chimie, 1889. Berthelot produced a lot of books from a limited number of manuscripts; he revisited the same topics multiple times and occasionally had to revise his earlier claims; yet he still offers the most comprehensive account of the subject. E. O. v. Lippmann’s Entstehung und Ausbreitung der Alchemie, 1919, is still largely based on Berthelot’s works. In English, see C. A. Browne’s “The Poem of the Philosopher Theophrastos upon the Sacred Art: A Metrical Translation with Comments upon the History of Alchemy,” in The Scientific Monthly, September, 1920, pp. 193-214.

[896] The earliest of them is John of Antioch of the reign of Heraclius, about 620 A.D., although they seem to use Panodorus, an Egyptian monk of the reign of Arcadius. Even he would be a century removed from the event.

[896] The earliest among them is John of Antioch from the reign of Heraclius, around 620 A.D., although they also reference Panodorus, an Egyptian monk from the reign of Arcadius. Even he is a century away from the event.

[897] Berthelot (1885), pp. 26, 72, etc., took this story about Diocletian far too seriously.

[897] Berthelot (1885), pp. 26, 72, etc., took this story about Diocletian way too seriously.

[898] Berthelot (1885), 192-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1885), 192-3.

[899] But the Labyrinth of Solomon, which Berthelot (1885), p. 16, had cited as an example of the sort of ancient magic figures which had been largely obliterated by Christians, and of the antiquity of alchemy among the Jews (ibid., p. 54), although he granted (ibid., p. 171) that it might not be as old as the Papyrus of Leyden of the third century, later when he had secured the collaboration of Ruelle (1888), I, 156-7, and III, 41, he had to admit was not even as old as the eleventh century MS in which it occurred but was an addition in writing of the fourteenth century and “a cabalistic work of the middle ages which does not belong to the old tradition of the Greek alchemists.”

[899] But the Labyrinth of Solomon, which Berthelot (1885), p. 16, cited as an example of the kind of ancient magical figures that were mostly destroyed by Christians, and of the early history of alchemy among the Jews (ibid., p. 54), although he acknowledged (ibid., p. 171) that it might not be as old as the Papyrus of Leyden from the third century, later, after he had collaborated with Ruelle (1888), I, 156-7, and III, 41, he had to admit it wasn't even as old as the eleventh-century manuscript in which it appeared but was a written addition from the fourteenth century and “a cabalistic work of the middle ages that does not belong to the old tradition of the Greek alchemists.”

[900] Berthelot (1885), p. 59.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1885), p. 59.

[901] Ibid., p. 53.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 53.

[902] Berthelot (1888), III, 251.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1888), III, 251.

[903] Berthelot (1885), p. 56.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1885), p. 56.

[904] Berthelot (1888), III, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1888), III, 23.

[905] Berthelot (1888), III, 251.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1888), III, 251.

[906] Berthelot (1885), p. 164.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1885), p. 164.

[907] Ibid., pp. 179-80.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., pp. 179-80.

[908] Ibid., p. 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 60.

[909] Berthelot (1888), II, 115-6; III, 125.

[909] Berthelot (1888), II, 115-6; III, 125.

[910] Berthelot (1885), pp. 211-2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1885), pp. 211-2.

[911] Berthelot (1889), p. vi.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1889), p. vi.

[912] De institutione principis epistola ad Traianum, a treatise extant only in Latin form.

[912] De institutione principis epistola ad Traianum, a treatise that exists only in Latin.

[913] IV, 72. On the biography and bibliography of Plutarch consult Christ, Gesch. d. Griechischen Litteratur, 5th ed., Munich, 1913, II, 2, “Die nachklassische Periode,” pp. 367ff.

[913] IV, 72. For information on Plutarch's biography and bibliography, see Christ, Gesch. d. Griechischen Litteratur, 5th ed., Munich, 1913, II, 2, “The Post-Classical Period,” pp. 367ff.

[914] See also the essay, “Whether an old man should engage in politics,” cap. 16.

[914] Check out the essay, “Should an old man get involved in politics?” cap. 16.

[915] See R. Schmertosch, in Philol.-Hist. Beitr. z. Ehren Wachsmuths, 1897, pp. 28ff.

[915] See R. Schmertosch, in Philol.-Hist. Beitr. z. Ehren Wachsmuths, 1897, pp. 28ff.

[916] Language and literary form are surer guides and have been applied by B. Weissenberger, Die Sprache Plutarchs von Chäronea und die pseudoplutarchischen Schriften, II Progr. Straubing, 1896, pp. 15ff. In 1876 W. W. Goodwin, editing a revised edition of the seventeenth century English translation of the Morals, declared that no critical translation was possible until a thorough revision of the text had been undertaken with the help of the best MSS. Since then an edition of the text by G. N. Bernadakes, 1888-1896, has appeared, but it has not escaped criticism.

[916] Language and literary form are more reliable guides and have been used by B. Weissenberger in Die Sprache Plutarchs von Chäronea und die pseudoplutarchischen Schriften, II Progr. Straubing, 1896, pp. 15ff. In 1876, W. W. Goodwin, while editing a revised edition of the seventeenth-century English translation of the Morals, stated that no accurate translation could be made until a complete revision of the text was carried out with the best manuscripts. Since then, there has been an edition of the text by G. N. Bernadakes, 1888-1896, but it has faced criticism.

[917] The English translation of Plutarch’s Morals “by several hands,” first published in 1684-1694, sixth edition corrected and revised by W. W. Goodwin, 5 vols., 1870-1878, IV, 10, renders a passage in the seventh chapter of De defectu oraculorum, in which complaint is made of the “base and villainous questions” which are now put to the oracle of Apollo, as follows: “some coming to him as a mere paltry astrologer to try his skill and impose upon him with subtle questions.” But the corresponding clause in the Greek text is merely οἱ μὲν ὡς σοφιστοῦ διάπειραν λαμβάνοντες, and there seems to be no reason for taking the word “sophist” in any other than its usual meaning. The passage therefore cannot be interpreted as an attack upon even vulgar astrologers.

[917] The English translation of Plutarch’s Morals “by several authors,” first published between 1684 and 1694, sixth edition corrected and revised by W. W. Goodwin, 5 vols., 1870-1878, IV, 10, presents a passage in the seventh chapter of De defectu oraculorum, which complains about the “low and dishonest questions” that are now asked of the oracle of Apollo, stating: “some approach him as a mere petty astrologer to test his ability and trick him with clever questions.” However, the corresponding phrase in the Greek text is simply οἱ μὲν ὡς σοφιστοῦ διάπειραν λαμβάνοντες, and there seems to be no reason to interpret the word “sophist” in any way other than its typical meaning. Thus, the passage should not be seen as an attack on even basic astrologers.

[918] De defectu oraculorum, 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Failure of Oracles, 13.

[919] Cap. 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 12.

[920] Cap. 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 7.

[921] Cap. 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 8.

[922] Cap. 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 9.

[923] Cap. 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 10.

[924] De genio Socratis, 21-22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Genius of Socrates, 21-22.

[925] Ibid., 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 24.

[926] De defectu oraculorum, 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Defects of Oracles, 40.

[927] De genio Socratis, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Genius of Socrates, 12.

[928] Sympos., VIII. 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sympos., VIII. 10.

[929] De defectu oraculorum, 44.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Defect of Oracles, 44.

[930] Ibid., 48.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 48.

[931] Ibid., 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 13.

[932] Ibid., 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 10.

[933] Ibid., 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 13.

[934] De genio Socratis, 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Genius of Socrates, 22.

[935] Cap. 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 26.

[936] Cap. 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 29.

[937] Cap. 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 30.

[938] Cap. 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 24.

[939] Cap. 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 22.

[940] De defectu oraculorum, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Defect of Oracles, 10.

[941] Ibid., 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 18.

[942] Ibid., 13-14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same here., 13-14.

[943] De defectu oraculorum, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Defect of Oracles, 21.

[944] De genio Socratis, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Genius of Socrates, 11.

[945] Ibid., 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 20.

[946] Romulus, cap. 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Romulus, ch. 12.

[947] Ἀλλὰ ταῦτα μὲν ἴσως καὶ τὰ τοιαῦτα τῷ ξένῳ καὶ περιτ τῷ προσάξεται μᾶλλον ἢ διὰ τὰ μυθῶδες ἐνοχλήσει τοὺς ἐντυγχάνοντας αὐτοῖς.

[947] But perhaps these things, and similar ones, will seem more extravagant to a stranger or may irritate those who encounter them because of their fantastical nature.

[948] Cap. 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 2.

[949] Cap. 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 22.

[950] Cap. 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 3.

[951] Caps. 5-8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Caps. 5-8.

[952] Cap. 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 9.

[953] De facie in orbe lunae, 28.

[953] At first glance in the moon's orbit, 28.

[954] VIII, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 9.

[955] De defectu oraculorum, 31-32. The resemblance of the stranger’s tale to the vision of Er in Plato’s Republic is also evident.

[955] De defectu oraculorum, 31-32. The similarity between the stranger’s story and the vision of Er in Plato’s Republic is also clear.

[956] Ibid., 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 34.

[957] Ibid., 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 37.

[958] Ibid., 36; and see 11-12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 36; and see 11-12.

[959] Caps. 8-16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Caps. 8-16.

[960] Cap. 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 17.

[961] Cap. 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 31.

[962] Cap. 33.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 33.

[963] Symposiacs, II, 7. D’Arcy W. Thompson in his translation of Aristotle’s History of Animals comments on II, 14, “The myth of the ‘ship-holder’ has been elegantly explained by V. W. Elkman, ‘On Dead Water,’ in the Reports of Nansen’s North Polar Expedition, Christiania, 1904.”

[963] Symposiacs, II, 7. D’Arcy W. Thompson, in his translation of Aristotle’s History of Animals, notes II, 14, “V. W. Elkman has provided a clever explanation of the myth of the ‘ship-holder’ in ‘On Dead Water,’ which appears in the Reports of Nansen’s North Polar Expedition, Christiania, 1904.”

[964] See above p. 77 for the somewhat different statement of Pliny (NH, XXIII, 64).

[964] See above p. 77 for a slightly different statement by Pliny (NH, XXIII, 64).

[965] Symposiacs, V, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Symposiacs, V, 10.

[966] De sera numinis vindicta, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ God's late vengeance, 14.

[967] De defectu oraculorum, 43.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Defect of Oracles, 43.

[968] X, 1 (Casaub., 446); for this and some other source citations and a brief bibliography of modern discussions on the subject see the article, “Amiantus” (3) in Pauly-Wissowa.

[968] X, 1 (Casaub., 446); for this and a few other source references along with a short bibliography of modern discussions on the topic, check out the article “Amiantus” (3) in Pauly-Wissowa.

[969] Article on “Asbestos” in the Encyclopedia Britannica, 11th edition, which further states that Charlemagne was said to own a tablecloth which was cleaned by throwing it into the fire, and that in 1676 a merchant from China exhibited to the Royal Society a handkerchief of “salamander’s wool” or linum asbesti (asbestos linen). See also Marco Polo, I, 42, and Cordier’s note in Yule (1903), I, 216.

[969] Article on “Asbestos” in the Encyclopedia Britannica, 11th edition, which further mentions that Charlemagne was said to have owned a tablecloth that was cleaned by throwing it into the fire, and that in 1676 a merchant from China showed the Royal Society a handkerchief made of “salamander’s wool” or linum asbesti (asbestos linen). See also Marco Polo, I, 42, and Cordier’s note in Yule (1903), I, 216.

[970] XIX, 4. In Bostock and Riley’s English translation, note 44 states that “the wicks of the inextinguishable lamps of the middle ages, the existence of which was an article of general belief, were said to be made of asbestus.” On its use in lamp-wicks see also Pausanias, I, 26, 7.

[970] XIX, 4. In Bostock and Riley’s English translation, note 44 states that “the wicks of the everlasting lamps of the Middle Ages, which people widely believed existed, were said to be made of asbestos.” For more on its use in lamp wicks, see also Pausanias, I, 26, 7.

[971] “In the year 1702 there was found near the Naevian Gate at Rome a funeral urn, in which there was a skull, calcined bones, and other ashes, enclosed in a cloth of asbestus of a marvelous length. It is still preserved in the Vatican,” (Bostock and Riley, note 45).

[971] “In 1702, a funeral urn was discovered near the Naevian Gate in Rome, which contained a skull, burned bones, and other ashes wrapped in an amazing length of asbestos cloth. It is still kept in the Vatican,” (Bostock and Riley, note 45).

[972] “On the contrary, it is found in the Higher Alps in the vicinity of glaciers, in Scotland, and in Siberia even” (Bostock and Riley, note 46). The article on “Amiantus (3)” in Pauly-Wissowa incorrectly assumes that in XIX, 4, Pliny has it in mind. In XXXVI, 31, however, Pliny briefly describes the stone amianthus, which Bostock and Riley (note 52) call “the most delicate variety of asbestus,” as “losing nothing in fire” and “resisting all potions (or, spells) even of the magi,”—“Amiantus alumini similis nihil igni deperdit. Hic veneficis resistit omnibus privatim magorum.” In XXXVII, 54, in an alphabetical list of stones, he briefly states that asbestos is iron-colored and found in the mountains of Arcadia,—“Asbestos in Arcadiae montibus nascitur coloris ferrei.”

[972] “On the contrary, it is found in the Higher Alps near glaciers, in Scotland, and even in Siberia” (Bostock and Riley, note 46). The article on “Amiantus (3)” in Pauly-Wissowa mistakenly thinks that Pliny is referring to it in XIX, 4. However, in XXXVI, 31, Pliny briefly describes the stone amianthus, which Bostock and Riley (note 52) refer to as “the most delicate variety of asbestos,” describing it as “losing nothing in fire” and “resisting all potions (or, spells) even of the magi,”—“Amiantus alumini similis nihil igni deperdit. Hic veneficis resistit omnibus privatim magorum.” In XXXVII, 54, in an alphabetical list of stones, he briefly mentions that asbestos is iron-colored and found in the mountains of Arcadia,—“Asbestos in Arcadiae montibus nascitur coloris ferrei.”

[973] Ed. by R. Hercher, Lipsiae, 1851; and by C. Müller in Geograph. Graeci Minores, II, 637ff.

[973] Ed. by R. Hercher, Leipzig, 1851; and by C. Müller in Geograph. Graeci Minores, II, 637ff.

[974] In Christ’s Gesch. d. Griech. Litt., not only is the On Rivers and Mountains itself called a “Schwindelbuch,” but these citations are rejected as fraudulent.

[974] In Christ’s Gesch. d. Griech. Litt., not only is the On Rivers and Mountains referred to as a “fraudulent book,” but these citations are dismissed as fake.

[975] Cap. 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 5.

[976] Cap. 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 18.

[977] Cap. 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 21.

[978] Cap. 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 6.

[979] Cap. 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 1.

[980] Cap. 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 7.

[981] Caps. 9, 10, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Caps. 9, 10, 12.

[982] Caps. 16, 18, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Caps. 16, 18, 24.

[983] Cap. 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 17.

[984] V, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 7.

[985] Bruta animalia ratione uti, cap. 9; also Quaest. Nat., cap. 26, “Why certain brutes seek certain remedies.”

[985] Bruta animalia ratione uti, chapter 9; also Quaest. Nat., chapter 26, “Why certain animals seek certain remedies.”

[986] De solertia animalium.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ The cleverness of animals.

[987] Ibid., 36-37; also the closing chapters of The Banquet of the Seven Sages.

[987] Same source., 36-37; also the final chapters of The Banquet of the Seven Sages.

[988] Cap. 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 31.

[989] Cap. 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 25.

[990] Cap. 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 12.

[991] Cap. 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 10.

[992] Cap. 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 29.

[993] Isis and Osiris, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Isis and Osiris, 10.

[994] VIII, 9, ἴδια δὲ σπέρματα νόσων οὐκ ἔστιν.

[994] VIII, 9, There are no specific seeds of diseases.

[995] Nat. Quaest., caps. 6, 14, 22, 24, 36.

[995] Nat. Quaest., caps. 6, 14, 22, 24, 36.

[996] Symposiacs, II, 9; IV, 2; III, 10; IV, 5.

[996] Symposiacs, II, 9; IV, 2; III, 10; IV, 5.

[997] De facie in orbe lunae, 9-10; also the opening chapters of De defectu oraculorum.

[997] At first glance in the world of the moon, 9-10; also the opening chapters of On the Deficiency of Oracles.

[998] Cap. 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 7.

[999] Cap. 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 18.

[1000] “Tam graece quam latine, gemino voto, pari studio, simili studio.”

[1000] “As much in Greek as in Latin, with double devotion, equal enthusiasm, and similar dedication.”

[1001] Florida, cap. 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Florida, chapter 9.

[1002] Apologia, cap. 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Apologia, ch. 4.

[1003] Caps. 73 and 55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Caps. 73°F and 55°F.

[1004] Caps. 55-56.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Caps. 55-56.

[1005] Cap. 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 17.

[1006] Apologia, cap. 70.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Apologia, ch. 70.

[1007] Cap. 89.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 89.

[1008] To Professor Butler (Apulei Apologia, ed. H. E. Butler and A. S. Owen, Oxford, 1914) this difficulty seems so insurmountable that he places the Apology earlier. But for the reasons already given I agree with the article on Apuleius in Pauly and Wissowa and its citations that the Metamorphoses is Apuleius’s first work.

[1008] According to Professor Butler (Apulei Apologia, ed. H. E. Butler and A. S. Owen, Oxford, 1914), this issue appears so impossible to overcome that he argues for placing the Apology earlier. However, for the reasons mentioned before, I align with the article on Apuleius found in Pauly and Wissowa and its sources that state the Metamorphoses is Apuleius’s initial work.

[1009] The work opens with the statement that the author “will stitch together varied stories in the so-called Milesian manner,” and that “we begin with a Grecian story.”

[1009] The work starts by stating that the author “will piece together different stories in the so-called Milesian style,” and that “we kick things off with a Greek story.”

[1010] I, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 3.

[1011] II, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 1.

[1012] I, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 8.

[1013] II, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 5.

[1014] III, 15. The wording of the translated passages throughout this chapter is mainly my own, but I have made some use of existing English translations.

[1014] III, 15. The phrasing of the translated sections in this chapter is mostly my own, but I've also referenced some existing English translations.

[1015] III, 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 16.

[1016] I, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 8.

[1017] I, 9-10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 9-10.

[1018] I, 11-13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 11-13.

[1019] II, 22 and 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 22 and 25.

[1020] II, 20 and 30; IX, 29.

[1020] II, 20 and 30; IX, 29.

[1021] I, 11; II, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 11; II, 11.

[1022] II, 20, 22; III, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 20, 22; III, 18.

[1023] Very similar practices are recounted by A. W. Howitt, Native Tribes of South-East Australia, pp. 355-96; “the medicine-men of hostile tribes sneak into the camp in the night, and with a net of a peculiar construction garotte one of the tribe, drag him a hundred yards or so from the camp, cut up his abdomen obliquely, take out the kidney and caul-fat, and then stuff a handful of grass and sand into the wound.”

[1023] Very similar practices are described by A. W. Howitt, Native Tribes of South-East Australia, pp. 355-96; “the shamans of enemy tribes sneak into the camp at night, and with a specially designed net, strangle one of the tribe members, drag him about a hundred yards from the camp, cut open his abdomen diagonally, remove the kidney and caul-fat, and then stuff a handful of grass and sand into the wound.”

[1024] VI, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 26.

[1025] II, 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 22.

[1026] I, 10; VII, 14; IX, 23, 29.

[1026] I, 10; VII, 14; IX, 23, 29.

[1027] II, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 28.

[1028] II, 6; III, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 6; III, 19.

[1029] III, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 29.

[1030] III, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 17.

[1031] III, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 21.

[1032] I, 10; II, 20-21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 10; II, 20-21.

[1033] III, 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 16.

[1034] II, 23-30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 23-30.

[1035] I, 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 13.

[1036] II, 5. “Surculis et lapillis et id genus frivolis inhalatis.”

[1036] II, 5. “With small shoots and pebbles and other such trivial things inhaled.”

[1037] III, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 18.

[1038] III, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 21.

[1039] III, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 23.

[1040] III, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 25.

[1041] II, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 28.

[1042] Examples are: I, 3, magico susurramine; II, 1, artis magicae nativa cantamina; II, 5, omnis carminis sepulchralis magistra creditur; II, 22, diris cantaminibus somno custodes obruunt; III, 18, tunc decantatis spirantibus fibris; III, 21, multumque cum lucerna secreta collocuta.

[1042] Examples are: I, 3, magic whispering; II, 1, natural spells of magic; II, 5, is believed to be the master of all funeral songs; II, 22, the terrifying chants overwhelm the guardians of sleep; III, 18, then the singing spirits exhale; III, 21, and much was spoken secretly with the lamp.

[1043] I, 11, quo numinis ministerio.

[1043] I, 11, by the authority of the divine.

[1044] I, 8, saga, inquit, et divina; IX, 29, saga illa et divini potens.

[1044] I, 8, magic, he said, and divine; IX, 29, that magic and powerful divine.

[1045] III, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 19.

[1046] II, 12-14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 12-14.

[1047] VIII, 26-27; IX, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 26-27; IX, 8.

[1048] I, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 4.

[1049] X, 11, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 11, 25.

[1050] VIII, 24; XI, 22, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 24; XI, 22, 25.

[1051] I, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 5.

[1052] II, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 26.

[1053] IX, 33-34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 33-34.

[1054] II, 11-12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 11-12.

[1055] X, 11. For bibliography on the mandragora see Frazer (1918) I, 377 note 2 in his chapter “Jacob and the Mandrakes.”

[1055] X, 11. For references on the mandrake, see Frazer (1918) I, 377 note 2 in his chapter “Jacob and the Mandrakes.”

[1056] VIII, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 21.

[1057] XI, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI, 1.

[1058] Macdonald (1909), p. 128.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Macdonald (1909), p. 128.

[1059] VIII, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 9.

[1060] Cap. 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 1.

[1061] Florida, caps. 24-26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Florida, caps. 24-26.

[1062] Caps. 61-63. The following passages from E. A. W. Budge, Egyptian Magic (1899), perhaps furnish an explanation of the true purpose and character of Apuleius’s wooden figure: p. 84, “Under the heading of ‘Magical Figures’ must certainly be included the so-called Ptah-Seker-Ausar figure, which is usually made of wood; it is often solid, but is sometimes made hollow, and is usually let into a rectangular wooden stand which may be either solid or hollow.” To get the protection of Ptah, Seker, and Osiris, says Budge at p. 85, “a figure was fashioned in such a way as to include the chief characteristics of the forms of these gods, and was inserted in a rectangular wooden stand which was intended to represent the coffin or chest out of which the trinity Ptah-Seker-Ausar came forth. On the figure itself and on the sides of the stand were inscribed prayers....” Such a figure in a coffin might well be described by the accusers as the horrible form of a ghost or skeleton.

[1062] Caps. 61-63. The following passages from E. A. W. Budge, Egyptian Magic (1899), might provide insight into the true purpose and nature of Apuleius’s wooden figure: p. 84, “The so-called Ptah-Seker-Ausar figure definitely falls under the category of ‘Magical Figures,’ and it is typically made of wood; it can often be solid, but sometimes it’s hollow, and it’s usually placed in a rectangular wooden stand that can be either solid or hollow.” To gain the protection of Ptah, Seker, and Osiris, Budge states on p. 85, “a figure was crafted to embody the main traits of these gods, and it was positioned in a rectangular wooden stand meant to represent the coffin or chest from which the trio Ptah-Seker-Ausar emerged. Prayers were inscribed on the figure itself and on the sides of the stand….” Such a figure in a coffin might easily be described by the accusers as a terrifying ghost or skeleton.

[1063] Cap. 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 31.

[1064] Cap. 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 42.

[1065] Cap. 43.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 43.

[1066] Caps. 1-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Caps. 1-3.

[1067] Cap. 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 2.

[1068] Caps. 27 and 31. For the same thought applied in the case of medieval men see Gabriel Naudé, Apologie pour tous les grands personages qui out esté faussement soupçonnez de Magie, Paris, 1625.

[1068] Caps. 27 and 31. For the same idea applied in the case of medieval people, see Gabriel Naudé, Apologie pour tous les grands personnages qui out esté faussement soupçonnez de Magie, Paris, 1625.

[1069] Cap. 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 25.

[1070] Cap. 47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 47.

[1071] Cap. 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 25.

[1072] Caps. 9, 42, 61, 63.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Caps. 9, 42, 61, 63.

[1073] Cap. 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 28.

[1074] Cap. 48.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 48.

[1075] Cap. 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 25.

[1076] Cap. 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 26.

[1077] Cap. 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 31.

[1078] Cap. 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 6.

[1079] Cap. 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 13.

[1080] Caps. 30, 33.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hats. 30, 33.

[1081] Cap. 61.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 61.

[1082] Cap. 53.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 53.

[1083] Cap. 58.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 58.

[1084] Cap. 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chapter 41.

[1085] Nicander lived in the second century B.C. under Attalus III of Pergamum. Of his works there are extant the Theriaca in 958 hexameters and another poem, the Alexipharmaca, of 630 lines; ed. J. G. Schneider, 1792 and 1816; by O. Schneider, 1856. There is an illuminated eleventh century manuscript of the Theriaca in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, which O. M. Dalton (Byzantine Art and Archaeology, p. 483) says “is evidently a painstaking copy of a very early original, perhaps almost contemporary with Nicander himself.”

[1085] Nicander lived in the second century B.C. during the reign of Attalus III of Pergamum. Some of his works that still exist are the Theriaca in 958 lines of hexameter and another poem, the Alexipharmaca, which has 630 lines; edited by J. G. Schneider in 1792 and 1816, and by O. Schneider in 1856. There is an illustrated manuscript of the Theriaca from the eleventh century in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, which O. M. Dalton says in his book Byzantine Art and Archaeology (p. 483) “is clearly a careful copy of a very early original, possibly nearly contemporary with Nicander himself.”

[1086] Cap. 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 40.

[1087] Caps. 49-51.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Caps. 49-51.

[1088] Caps. 15-16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hats. 15-16.

[1089] Cap. 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chapter 40.

[1090] Cap. 36.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 36.

[1091] Cap. 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 8.

[1092] Cap. 85.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 85.

[1093] Cap. 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 38.

[1094] Cap. 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 45.

[1095] Cap. 51.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 51.

[1096] Caps. 30, 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hats. 30, 42.

[1097] Cap. 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 40.

[1098] P. 98.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ p. 98.

[1099] Cap. 35.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 35.

[1100] So Abt has pointed out: Die Apologie des Apuleius von Madaura und die antike Zauberei, Giessen, 1908, p. 224.

[1100] So Abt has pointed out: The Apology of Apuleius of Madaura and Ancient Magic, Giessen, 1908, p. 224.

[1101] Caps. 42-43.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Caps. 42-43.

[1102] Cap. 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 38.

[1103] Cap. 90.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 90.

[1104] Cap. 97.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 97.

[1105] Cap. 84.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 84.

[1106] De mundo, cap. 1; De deo Socratis, cap. 4.

[1106] On the World, ch. 1; On the God of Socrates, ch. 4.

[1107] De mens., IV., 7, 73; De ostent., 3, 4, 7, 10, 44, 54.

[1107] The man., IV., 7, 73; The ostentation., 3, 4, 7, 10, 44, 54.

[1108] Cap. 43.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 43.

[1109] Cap. 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 6.

[1110] De deo Socratis, cap. 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the God of Socrates, cap. 8.

[1111] Hist. Anim., V, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hist. Anim., Vol. 5, 19.

[1112] De deo Socratis, cap. 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the God of Socrates, cap. 13.

[1113] Ibid., caps. 9-10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., chapters 9-10.

[1114] XVIII, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 18th, 18.

[1115] VIII, 14-22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 14-22.

[1116] Epistles 102, 136, 138, in Migne, PL, vol. 33.

[1116] Epistles 102, 136, 138, in Migne, PL, vol. 33.

[1117] Divin. Instit., V, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Divin. Instit., V, 3.

[1118] Codex Laurentianus, plut. 68, 2. The same MS contains the Histories and Annals (XI-XVI) of Tacitus. A subscription to the ninth book of the Metamorphoses indicates that the original manuscript from which this was derived or copied was produced in 395 A.D. and 397 A.D. G. Huet, “Le roman d’Apulée était-il connu au moyen âge,” Le Moyen Age (1917), 44-52, holds that the Metamorphoses was not known directly to the medieval vernacular romancers. See also B. Stumfall, Das Märchen von Amor und Psyche in Seinem Fortleben, Leipzig, 1907.

[1118] Codex Laurentianus, plut. 68, 2. The same manuscript contains the Histories and Annals (XI-XVI) of Tacitus. A note at the end of the ninth book of the Metamorphoses suggests that the original manuscript from which this was derived or copied was created in 395 A.D. and 397 A.D. G. Huet, “Was Apuleius’s novel known in the Middle Ages?” Le Moyen Age (1917), 44-52, argues that the Metamorphoses was not directly known to the medieval vernacular romancers. See also B. Stumfall, Das Märchen von Amor und Psyche in Seinem Fortleben, Leipzig, 1907.

[1119] CLM 621.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ CLM 621.

[1120] Harleian 3969.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Harleian 3969.

[1121] VII, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 5.

[1122] Ep. 136.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Episode 136.

[1123] Divin. Instit., V, 2-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Divin. Instit., V, 2-3.

[1124] Concerning other writers named Philostratus and which works should be assigned to each, see Schmid (1913) 608-20.

[1124] Regarding other authors named Philostratus and which of their works should be categorized to each, refer to Schmid (1913) 608-20.

[1125] See article on Apollonius of Tyana in Pauly-Wissowa. Priaulx, The Indian Travels of Apollonius of Tyana, London, 1873, p. 62, found the geography of Apollonius’s Indian travels so erroneous that he came to the conclusion that either Apollonius never visited India, or, if he did, that Damis “never accompanied him but fabricated the journal Philostratus speaks of.”

[1125] See article on Apollonius of Tyana in Pauly-Wissowa. Priaulx, The Indian Travels of Apollonius of Tyana, London, 1873, p. 62, found Apollonius’s geography of his travels in India to be so inaccurate that he concluded that either Apollonius never went to India, or if he did, Damis “never went with him but made up the journal that Philostratus mentions.”

[1126] Priaulx, however, regarded its statements concerning India as such as might have been “easily collected at that great mart for Indian commodities and resort for Indian merchants—Alexandria,” or from earlier authors.

[1126] Priaulx, however, saw its claims about India as ones that could have been “easily gathered at that major hub for Indian goods and a gathering place for Indian traders—Alexandria,” or taken from previous writers.

[1127] III, 23, 35; IV, 9, 32; V, 20; VI, 12, 16; VII, 10, 12, 15-16.

[1127] III, 23, 35; IV, 9, 32; V, 20; VI, 12, 16; VII, 10, 12, 15-16.

[1128] See the treatise of Eusebius Against Apollonius. Lactantius (Divin. Inst., V, 2-3) probably had reference to Hierocles in speaking of a philosopher who had written three books against Christianity and declared the miracles of Apollonius as wonderful as those of Christ.

[1128] Check out Eusebius's work Against Apollonius. Lactantius (Divin. Inst., V, 2-3) likely referred to Hierocles when he talked about a philosopher who wrote three books against Christianity and claimed that the miracles of Apollonius were just as amazing as those of Christ.

[1129] So Origen says (Against Celsus, VI, 41) and Philostratus implies (I, 3).

[1129] So Origen says (Against Celsus, VI, 41) and Philostratus suggests (I, 3).

[1130] See the Against Apollonius, caps. 31, 35.

[1130] Check out the Against Apollonius, caps. 31, 35.

[1131] Ἀλέξανδρος, ἢ ψευδόμαντις, cap. 5. In the passage quoted I have used Fowler’s translation.

[1131] Alexander, or the false prophet, ch. 5. In the quoted passage, I've used Fowler’s translation.

[1132] In other respects, however, I have usually found this translation, which accompanies the Greek text in the recent Loeb Classical Library edition, both racy and accurate, and have employed it in a number of the quotations which follow.

[1132] In other ways, though, I've often found this translation, which comes with the Greek text in the latest Loeb Classical Library edition, both lively and precise, and I've used it in several of the quotes that follow.

[1133] I, 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 32.

[1134] I, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 29.

[1135] I, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 26.

[1136] I, 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 40.

[1137] V, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 12.

[1138] VII, 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 39.

[1139] V, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 12.

[1140] IV, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 18.

[1141] VIII, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 19.

[1142] VIII, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 30.

[1143] VIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 7.

[1144] VII, 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 20.

[1145] VII, 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 34.

[1146] VII, 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 7, 39.

[1147] VI, 11; III, 43.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 11; III, 43.

[1148] VI, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 41.

[1149] I, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 2.

[1150] V, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Volume 12.

[1151] VI, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 11.

[1152] J. E. Harrison, Themis, Cambridge, 1912, p. 72. “The Buddha himself condemned as worthless the whole system of Vedic sacrifices, including in his ban astrology, divination, spells, omens, and witchcraft; but in the earliest Buddhist stupas known to us, the symbolism is entirely borrowed from the sacrificial lore of the Vedas:” E. B. Havell, A Handbook of Indian Art, 1920, p. 6, and see p. 32 for the birth of Buddha under the sign Taurus.

[1152] J. E. Harrison, Themis, Cambridge, 1912, p. 72. “The Buddha himself rejected the entire system of Vedic sacrifices as useless, including astrology, divination, spells, omens, and witchcraft in his prohibition; however, in the earliest Buddhist stupas we know of, the symbolism is completely taken from the sacrificial traditions of the Vedas:” E. B. Havell, A Handbook of Indian Art, 1920, p. 6, and see p. 32 for the birth of Buddha under the sign Taurus.

[1153] VI, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 10.

[1154] III, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 12.

[1155] III, 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 16.

[1156] III, 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 13.

[1157] III, 12. But perhaps the translation should be, “men who are exceedingly wise.”

[1157] III, 12. But maybe the translation should be, “people who are extremely wise.”

[1158] III, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 15.

[1159] III, 46-47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 46-47.

[1160] III, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 17.

[1161] III, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 27.

[1162] III, 38-40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 38-40.

[1163] III, 44.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 44.

[1164] III, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 41.

[1165] III, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 21.

[1166] III, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 41.

[1167] V, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 37.

[1168] V, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 37.

[1169] III, 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 34.

[1170] III, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 37.

[1171] VI, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 38.

[1172] III, 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 34.

[1173] V, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 17.

[1174] I, 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 22.

[1175] NH, VIII, 17; Hist. Anim., VI, 31.

[1175] NH, VIII, 17; Hist. Anim., VI, 31.

[1176] VI, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 37.

[1177] The ancient authorities, pro and con, will be found listed in D. W. Thompson, Glossary of Greek Birds, 106-107. He adds: “Modern naturalists accept the story of the singing swans, asserting that though the common swan cannot sing, yet the Whooper or whistling swan does so. It is certain that the Whooper sings, for many ornithologists state the fact, but I do not think that it can sing very well; at the very best, dant sonitum rauci per stagna loquacia cygni. This concrete explanation is quite inadequate; it is beyond a doubt that the swan’s song (like the halcyon’s) veiled, and still hides, some mystical allusion.”

[1177] The ancient sources, both for and against, are listed in D. W. Thompson, Glossary of Greek Birds, 106-107. He adds: “Modern naturalists accept the story of singing swans, claiming that although the common swan can’t sing, the Whooper or whistling swan does. It’s certain that the Whooper sings because many ornithologists confirm it, but I don't think it sings very well; at best, dant sonitum rauci per stagna loquacia cygni. This straightforward explanation is quite insufficient; there's no doubt that the swan’s song (like the halcyon’s) is veiled and still hides some mystical reference.”

[1178] II, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 14.

[1179] I, 22. Pliny, NH, VIII, 17, repeats a slightly different popular notion that the lioness tears her womb with her claws and so can bear but once; against this view he cites Aristotle’s statement that the lioness bears five times, as described above.

[1179] I, 22. Pliny, NH, VIII, 17, mentions a slightly different common belief that the lioness tears her womb with her claws and can only give birth once; in contrast to this view, he references Aristotle’s claim that the lioness can give birth five times, as noted earlier.

[1180] III, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 2.

[1181] III, 47; VI, 25. Scylax was a Persian admiral under Darius who traveled to India and wrote an account of his voyages. The work extant under his name is of doubtful authorship (Isaac Vossius, Periplus Scylacis Caryandensis, 1639), but some date it as early as the fourth century B.C.

[1181] III, 47; VI, 25. Scylax was a Persian admiral under Darius who traveled to India and wrote about his journeys. The work that survives under his name is of questionable authorship (Isaac Vossius, Periplus Scylacis Caryandensis, 1639), but some put its date as early as the fourth century B.C.

[1182] II, 11-16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 11-16.

[1183] II, 2; III, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 2; III, 4.

[1184] II, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 28.

[1185] III, 1. Greek fire?

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 1. Greek fire?

[1186] III, 48-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 48-9.

[1187] III, 6; II, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 6; II, 17.

[1188] III, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 7.

[1189] NH, VIII, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, VIII, 11.

[1190] III, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 8.

[1191] III, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 9.

[1192] III, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 7.

[1193] III, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 8.

[1194] II, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 14.

[1195] II, 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 40.

[1196] III, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 27.

[1197] III, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 21.

[1198] III, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 1.

[1199] VIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 7.

[1200] III, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 30.

[1201] III, 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 42.

[1202] VIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 7.

[1203] IV, 44.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 44.

[1204] VIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 7.

[1205] VIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 7.

[1206] VIII, 26; VI, 43. The historian, Dio Cassius, a contemporary of Philostratus, also states that Apollonius announced the assassination of Domitian and even named the assassin in Ephesus on the very day that the event occurred at Rome. His account differs too much from that by Philostratus to have been copied from it. He concludes it with the positive assertion, “This is really what took place, though there should be ten thousand doubters.” (LXVII, 18.)

[1206] VIII, 26; VI, 43. The historian, Dio Cassius, who was a contemporary of Philostratus, also mentions that Apollonius predicted the assassination of Domitian and even identified the assassin in Ephesus on the same day the event happened in Rome. His version differs too significantly from Philostratus's account to have been copied from it. He ends with the strong statement, “This is truly what happened, even if there are ten thousand doubters.” (LXVII, 18.)

[1207] III, 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 42.

[1208] VI, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chapter VI, Verse 11.

[1209] I, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 23.

[1210] IV, 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 34.

[1211] VIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 7.

[1212] IV, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 37.

[1213] I, 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 22.

[1214] V, 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 13.

[1215] VIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 7.

[1216] I, 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 20.

[1217] I, 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 31.

[1218] V, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 25.

[1219] IV, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 4.

[1220] IV, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 24.

[1221] IV, 43.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 43.

[1222] V, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 18.

[1223] VII, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 18.

[1224] IV, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 10.

[1225] VIII, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 7.

[1226] IV, 44.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 44.

[1227] II, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 4.

[1228] VI, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 27.

[1229] IV, 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 20.

[1230] IV, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 25.

[1231] I, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 4.

[1232] I, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 19.

[1233] Epist. 50.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Letter 50.

[1234] VII, 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 32.

[1235] VI, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 27.

[1236] IV, 11, 15-16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 11, 15-16.

[1237] VI, 43.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 43.

[1238] IV, 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 45.

[1239] IV, 44.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 44.

[1240] VIII, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 8.

[1241] VII, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 38.

[1242] VIII, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 30.

[1243] The passages are not listed in Liddell and Scott, nor mentioned by Professor Bury in his note on “The ἴυγξ in Greek Magic,” Journal of Hellenic Studies (1886), pp. 157-60. Hubert’s article on “Magia” in Daremberg-Saglio cites only one passage and seems to regard the iunx solely as a magic wheel. D’Arcy W. Thompson, A Glossary of Greek Birds, Oxford, 1895, also cites but one passage from Philostratus. A. B. Cook, Zeus, Cambridge, 1914, I, 253-65, notes both main passages but tries to interpret the iunges as solar wheels rather than birds. But the iunx is found as a bird on several Greek vases of the latest period; see British Museum Catalogue of Vases, vol. IV, figs. 94, 98, 342, 163, 331b; magic wheels are also represented on the vases, but are not described as iunges in the catalogue; see vol. IV, figs. 331a, 373, 385, 399, 409, 436, 450, 458, and vol. III, E 774, F 223, F 279.

[1243] The passages aren't listed in Liddell and Scott, nor are they mentioned by Professor Bury in his note on “The ἴυγξ in Greek Magic,” Journal of Hellenic Studies (1886), pp. 157-60. Hubert’s article on “Magia” in Daremberg-Saglio only cites one passage and seems to consider the iunx solely as a magic wheel. D’Arcy W. Thompson, A Glossary of Greek Birds, Oxford, 1895, also cites just one passage from Philostratus. A. B. Cook, Zeus, Cambridge, 1914, I, 253-65, notes the two main passages but attempts to interpret the iunges as solar wheels rather than birds. However, the iunx is depicted as a bird on several later Greek vases; see British Museum Catalogue of Vases, vol. IV, figs. 94, 98, 342, 163, 331b; magical wheels are also shown on the vases but are not identified as iunges in the catalogue; see vol. IV, figs. 331a, 373, 385, 399, 409, 436, 450, 458, and vol. III, E 774, F 223, F 279.

[1244] VI, 10; see also VIII, 7.

[1244] VI, 10; see also VIII, 7.

[1245] I, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 25.

[1246] VI, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 11.

[1247] Cited by Cook, Zeus, I, 266, who, however, fails to connect it with the iunx.

[1247] Cited by Cook, Zeus, I, 266, who, however, fails to connect it with the iunx.

[1248] Newton’s Dictionary of Birds; a reference supplied me by the kindness of my colleague, Professor F. H. Herrick.

[1248] Newton’s Dictionary of Birds; a reference given to me by the generosity of my colleague, Professor F. H. Herrick.

[1249] Professor Bury’s theory that “the bird was called ἴυγξ from its call which sounded like ἰώ ἰώ; and it was used in lunar enchantments because it was supposed to be calling on Io, the moon”: and that “ἴυγξ originally meant a moon-song independently of the wryneck,” which came to be employed in magic moon-worship on account of its cry, has already been refuted by Professor Thompson, who pointed out that “the bird does not cry ἰώ,, ἰώ, and the suggested derivation of its name and sanctity from such a cry cannot hold.”

[1249] Professor Bury's theory that “the bird was called ἴυγξ because its call sounded like ἰώ ἰώ; and it was used in lunar spells since it was believed to be calling on Io, the moon”: and that “ἴυγξ originally meant a moon-song independently of the wryneck,” which later became part of magical moon-worship due to its cry, has already been countered by Professor Thompson, who pointed out that “the bird does not cry ἰώ, ἰώ, and the proposed origin of its name and sanctity from such a cry cannot be supported.”

[1250] See Chapter 49 for a fuller account of it.

[1250] Check out Chapter 49 for a more detailed explanation.

[1251] See Chapter 71.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Ch. 71.

[1252] Math. 54, Liber Appollonii magi vel philosophi qui dicitur Elizinus.

[1252] Math. 54, Book of Apollonius the magicians or philosophers known as Elizinus.

[1253] BN 13951, 12th century, Liber Apollonii de principalibus rerum causis. Vienna 3124, 15th century, fols. 57v-58v, “Verba de proprietatibus rerum quomodo virtus unius frangitur per alium. Adamas nec ferro nec igne domatur .../ ... cito medetur.”

[1253] BN 13951, 12th century, Liber Apollonii de principalibus rerum causis. Vienna 3124, 15th century, fols. 57v-58v, “Words about the properties of things, how the strength of one is broken by another. Adam is not subdued by iron or fire .../ ... quickly heals.”

[1254] Royal 12-C-XVIII, Baleni de imaginibus; Sloane 3826, fols. 100v-101, Beleemus de imaginibus; Sloane 3848, fols. 52-8, Liber Balamini sapientis de sigillis planetarum, fols. 59-62, liber sapientis Baleym de ymaginibus septem planetarum. But these forms might suggest Balaam. We also hear of Flacius Affricus, a disciple of Belenus.

[1254] Royal 12-C-XVIII, Baleni de imaginibus; Sloane 3826, fols. 100v-101, Beleemus de imaginibus; Sloane 3848, fols. 52-8, Liber Balamini sapientis de sigillis planetarum, fols. 59-62, liber sapientis Baleym de ymaginibus septem planetarum. But these forms might suggest Balaam. We also hear of Flacius Affricus, a disciple of Belenus.

[1255] M. Steinschneider, “Apollonius von Thyana (oder Balinas) bei den Arabern,” in Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft, XLV (1891), 439-46.

[1255] M. Steinschneider, “Apollonius von Thyana (or Balinas) among the Arabs,” in Journal of the German Oriental Society, XLV (1891), 439-46.

[1256] T. Schiche, De fontibus librorum Ciceronis qui sunt de divinatione, Jena, 1875; K. Hartfelder, Die Quellen von Ciceros zwei Büchern de Divinatione, Freiburg, 1878.

[1256] T. Schiche, On the Sources of Cicero's Books on Divination, Jena, 1875; K. Hartfelder, The Sources of Cicero's Two Books on Divination, Freiburg, 1878.

[1257] Aulus Gellius, Noctes Atticae, XIV, I.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Aulus Gellius, *Attic Nights*, XIV, I.

[1258] Adv. astrol., in Opera, ed. Johannes Albertus Fabricius, Leipzig, 1718.

[1258] Adv. astrol., in Opera, ed. Johannes Albertus Fabricius, Leipzig, 1718.

[1259] De divinatione, I, 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Divination, I, 39.

[1260] Ibid., I, 58.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 1, 58.

[1261] Ibid., II, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., Vol. II, p. 11.

[1262] Ibid., II, 33.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., II, 33.

[1263] Ibid., II, 36.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., II, 36.

[1264] I, 50.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 50.

[1265] II, 3-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 3-4.

[1266] II, 5. “Quae enim praesentiri aut arte aut ratione aut usu aut coniectura possunt, ea non divinis tribuenda putas sed peritis.”

[1266] II, 5. “Whatever can be anticipated through skill, reasoning, experience, or inference, you believe should not be attributed to divine forces but to experts.”

[1267] II, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 30.

[1268] II, 12. An astrologer, however, would probably say that seeming contradiction could be accounted for by the varying influence of the constellations upon different regions.

[1268] II, 12. An astrologer, however, would likely explain that the apparent contradiction could be due to the differing influence of the constellations on various regions.

[1269] II, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 12.

[1270] II, 19. “Quid igitur minus a physicis dici debet quam quidquam certi significari rebus incertis?”

[1270] II, 19. "So what should be said by physicists less than anything certain being signified by uncertain things?"

[1271] II, 60-71.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 60-71.

[1272] II, 54.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 54.

[1273] II, 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 16.

[1274] II, 42-47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 42-47.

[1275] NH, VII, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, VII, 21.

[1276] Republic, II, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Republic, II, 10.

[1277] Ibid., II, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., II, 15.

[1278] Ibid., II, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, II, 18.

[1279] Apologia pro mercede conductis. Most of Lucian’s Essays have been translated into English by H. W. Fowler and F. G. Fowler, 1905, 4 vols.

[1279] Apologia pro mercede conductis. Most of Lucian’s essays have been translated into English by H. W. Fowler and F. G. Fowler, 1905, 4 vols.

[1280] De defectu oraculorum, 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Defect of Oracles, 45.

[1281] Fowler’s translation.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fowler's translation.

[1282] Fowler omits it. It appears in the Teubner edition, Luciani Samosatensis opera, ed. C. Jacobitz, II (1887), 187-95, but both Jacobitz and Dindorf mark it as spurious. Croiset, Essai sur la vie et les œuvres de Lucien, Paris, 1882, p. 43, also rejects it.

[1282] Fowler leaves it out. It shows up in the Teubner edition, Luciani Samosatensis opera, edited by C. Jacobitz, II (1887), 187-95, but both Jacobitz and Dindorf label it as false. Croiset, Essai sur la vie et les œuvres de Lucien, Paris, 1882, p. 43, also dismisses it.

[1283] See the interesting paper of J. D. Rolleston, “Lucian and Medicine,” 1915, 23 pp., reprinted from Proceedings of the Royal Society of Medicine, VIII, 49-58, 72-84.

[1283] Check out the fascinating paper by J. D. Rolleston, "Lucian and Medicine," 1915, 23 pages, reprinted from Proceedings of the Royal Society of Medicine, VIII, 49-58, 72-84.

[1284] See the close of Nigrinus.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See the end of Nigrinus.

[1285] Rerum gestarum libri qui supersunt, XXI, i, 14.

[1285] Books on the things that have happened that still exist, XXI, i, 14.

[1286] The wording of these excerpts is that of Fowler’s translation.

[1286] These excerpts are quoted from Fowler’s translation.

[1287] See Sackur, Sibyllinische Texte und Forschungen, Halle, 1898; Alexandre, Oracula Sibyllina, 2nd ed., Paris, 1869; Charles (1913) II, 368 ff.

[1287] See Sackur, Sibyllinische Texte und Forschungen, Halle, 1898; Alexandre, Oracula Sibyllina, 2nd ed., Paris, 1869; Charles (1913) II, 368 ff.

[1288] Besides the works to be cited later in this chapter, the reader may consult: A. Dieterich, Abraxas (Studien z. relig. gesch. d. spät. alt.), Leipzig, 1891, especially chapter II (pp. 136ff.), “Jüdisch-orphisch-gnostiche Kulte und die Zauberbücher”; and G. A. Lobeck, Aglaophamus, 1829, 2 vols.

[1288] In addition to the works mentioned later in this chapter, readers can check out: A. Dieterich, Abraxas (Studies on the Religious History of Late Antiquity), Leipzig, 1891, particularly chapter II (pp. 136ff.), “Jewish-Orphic-Gnostic Cults and the Magic Books”; and G. A. Lobeck, Aglaophamus, 1829, 2 vols.

[1289] Steinschneider (1906), 24. He mentions the dissertation of R. Pietschmann, Hermes Trismegistus, Leipzig, 1875.

[1289] Steinschneider (1906), 24. He mentions the dissertation of R. Pietschmann, Hermes Trismegistus, Leipzig, 1875.

[1290] See Galen, citing Pamphilus, Kühn, XI, 798.

[1290] See Galen, referencing Pamphilus, Kühn, XI, 798.

[1291] XXI, 14, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, 14, 15.

[1292] VI, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 4.

[1293] I, 1; VIII, 1-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 1; VIII, 1-4.

[1294] VIII, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 1.

[1295] VIII, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 2.

[1296] VIII, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 4.

[1297] I, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 1.

[1298] R. Reitzenstein, Poimandres, Leipzig, 1904, p. 319. This work is the fullest scientific treatment of the subject.

[1298] R. Reitzenstein, Poimandres, Leipzig, 1904, p. 319. This work is the most comprehensive scientific analysis of the topic.

[1299] Citations supporting this and the preceding sentences may be found in Kroll’s article on Hermes Trismegistus in Pauly-Wissowa, 809-820. The Poimandres was translated into English by John Everard, D.D., a mystic but also a popular preacher whose outspoken sermons caused his frequent arrest and imprisonment during the reigns of James I and Charles I. James is reported to have said of him, “What is this Dr. Ever-out? His name shall be Dr. Never-out,” (Dict. Nat. Biog.). Dr. Everard’s translation was printed in 1650 and again in 1657 when the “Asclepius” was added to it. In 1884 it appeared again in the Bath Occult Reprint Series with an introduction by Hargrave Jennings, and the second volume in the same series was Hermes’ The Virgin of the World, published at London. Kroll mentions only the more recent translation by Mead, Thrice Greatest Hermes. London, 1906.

[1299] Citations supporting this and the previous sentences can be found in Kroll’s article on Hermes Trismegistus in Pauly-Wissowa, 809-820. The Poimandres was translated into English by John Everard, D.D., a mystic and a popular preacher whose outspoken sermons often led to his arrest and imprisonment during the reigns of James I and Charles I. James is said to have commented about him, “What is this Dr. Ever-out? His name shall be Dr. Never-out,” (Dict. Nat. Biog.). Dr. Everard’s translation was published in 1650 and again in 1657 when the “Asclepius” was added to it. In 1884, it was reissued in the Bath Occult Reprint Series with an introduction by Hargrave Jennings, and the second volume in the same series was Hermes’ The Virgin of the World, published in London. Kroll only mentions the more recent translation by Mead, Thrice Greatest Hermes. London, 1906.

[1300] Consult the bibliography in Kroll’s article in Pauly-Wissowa.

[1300] Check the bibliography in Kroll’s article in Pauly-Wissowa.

[1301] See the various volumes of Catalogus codicum astrologorum Graecorum, passim.

[1301] Check out the different volumes of Catalogus codicum astrologorum Graecorum, throughout.

[1302] Unprinted.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Not printed.

[1303] An English translation by John Harvey was printed in London, 1657, 12mo. It also exists in manuscript form in the British Museum; Sloane 1734, fols. 283-98, “The learned work of Hermes Trismegistus intituled hys Phisicke Mathematycke or Mathematicall Physickes, direct to Hammon Kinge of Egypte.”

[1303] An English translation by John Harvey was published in London, 1657, 12mo. It is also available in manuscript form at the British Museum; Sloane 1734, fols. 283-98, “The learned work of Hermes Trismegistus titled his Physick Mathematycke or Mathematical Physicks, directed to Hammon King of Egypt.”

[1304] Orphica, ed. Abel (1885), p. 141.

[1304] Orphica, ed. Abel (1885), p. 141.

[1305] It was to a work on this last subject that Pamphilus, cited by Galen, referred in mentioning the herb ἀετοῦ, but this plant is not named in the extant treatise on the decans. Such treatises are more or less addressed to Asclepius: printed in J. B. Pitra, Analecta Sacra, V, ii, 279-90; Cat. cod. astrol. Graec., IV, 134; VI, 83; VII, 231; VIII, ii, 159; VIII, iii, 151; and by Ruelle, Rev. Phil., XXXII, 247.

[1305] Pamphilus, mentioned by Galen, referred to a study on this last topic when discussing the herb ἀετοῦ, but this plant isn’t mentioned in the existing treatise on the decans. These treatises are mostly focused on Asclepius: published in J. B. Pitra, Analecta Sacra, V, ii, 279-90; Cat. cod. astrol. Graec., IV, 134; VI, 83; VII, 231; VIII, ii, 159; VIII, iii, 151; and by Ruelle, Rev. Phil., XXXII, 247.

[1306] Berthelot (1885), pp. 133-6, and his article on Hermes Trismegistus in La Grande Encyclopédie; also Kroll on Hermes in Pauly-Wissowa, 799.

[1306] Berthelot (1885), pp. 133-6, and his article on Hermes Trismegistus in La Grande Encyclopédie; also Kroll on Hermes in Pauly-Wissowa, 799.

[1307] Berthelot (1885), p. 134.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1885), p. 134.

[1308] Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque, 1899, pp. xi, 519-20, 563-4.

[1308] Bouché-Leclercq, Greek Astrology, 1899, pp. xi, 519-20, 563-4.

[1309] NH, II, 21; VII, 50.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, II, 21; VII, 50.

[1310] Kühn, XII, 207.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kühn, 12, 207.

[1311] They have been collected and edited by E. Riess, Nechepsonis et Petosiridis fragmenta magica, in Philologus, Supplbd. VI, Göttingen (1891-93), pp. 323-394. See also F. Boll, Die Erforschung der antiken Astrologie, in Neue Jahrb. für das klass. Altert., XI (1908), p. 106, and his dissertation of the same title published at Bonn, 1890. I have found that Riess, while including some of the passages attributed to Nechepso by the sixth century medical writer, Aetius, seems to have overlooked the “Emplastrum Nechepsonis e cupresso,” Aetius, Tetrabibl., IV, Sermo III, cap. 19 (p. 771 in the edition of Stephanus, 1567).

[1311] They have been collected and edited by E. Riess, Nechepsonis et Petosiridis fragmenta magica, in Philologus, Supplbd. VI, Göttingen (1891-93), pp. 323-394. See also F. Boll, Die Erforschung der antiken Astrologie, in Neue Jahrb. für das klass. Altert., XI (1908), p. 106, and his dissertation of the same title published at Bonn, 1890. I found that Riess, while including some of the passages attributed to Nechepso by the sixth-century medical writer Aetius, seems to have overlooked the “Emplastrum Nechepsonis e cupresso,” Aetius, Tetrabibl., IV, Sermo III, cap. 19 (p. 771 in the edition of Stephanus, 1567).

[1312] Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque, 1898, p. xiii. Axt and Riegler, Manethonis Apotelesmaticorum libri sex, Cologne, 1832. Also edited by Koechly.

[1312] Bouché-Leclercq, Greek Astrology, 1898, p. xiii. Axt and Riegler, The Six Books of the Apotelesmatics of Manetho, Cologne, 1832. Also edited by Koechly.

[1313] E. Riess, On Ancient Superstition, in Transactions American Philological Association (1895), XXVI, 40-55. Grenfell (1921), p. 151, announces that J. G. Smyly is about to publish “a remarkable fragment of an Orphic ritual” among some thirty papyrus texts in the Cunningham Memoirs of the Royal Irish Academy.

[1313] E. Riess, On Ancient Superstition, in Transactions American Philological Association (1895), XXVI, 40-55. Grenfell (1921), p. 151, announces that J. G. Smyly is about to publish “a remarkable fragment of an Orphic ritual” among about thirty papyrus texts in the Cunningham Memoirs of the Royal Irish Academy.

[1314] The Greek text of the Lithica is contained in Orphica, ed. E. Abel, Lipsiae et Pragae, 1885. A rather too free English verse translation, Orpheus on Gems, is given in C. W. King, The Natural History, Ancient and Modern, of Precious Stones and Gems and of Precious Metals, London, 1865.

[1314] The Greek text of the Lithica is included in Orphica, edited by E. Abel, Leipzig and Prague, 1885. A somewhat liberal English verse translation, Orpheus on Gems, can be found in C. W. King’s The Natural History, Ancient and Modern, of Precious Stones and Gems and of Precious Metals, London, 1865.

[1315] Pp. 397-98.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ pp. 397-98.

[1316] Line 94, περίφρονι Θειοδάμαντι; line 165, δαιμόνιος φώς.

[1316] Line 94, wise Thyiodamantes; line 165, divine light.

[1317] Lines 410-411.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lines 410-411.

[1318] Confessio S. Cypriani, in Acta Sanctorum, ed. Bollandists, Sept., VII, 222; L. Preller, Philologus (1846), I, 349ff.; cited by A. B. Cook, Zeus, Cambridge, 1914, I, 110-111. The work is treated more fully below in Chapter 18.

[1318] Confession of St. Cyprian, in Acts of the Saints, ed. Bollandists, Sept., VII, 222; L. Preller, Philologus (1846), I, 349ff.; cited by A. B. Cook, Zeus, Cambridge, 1914, I, 110-111. The work is discussed in more detail below in Chapter 18.

[1319] Franz Cumont, op. cit., Chicago, 1911, p. 189. See also Windischmann, Zoroastrische Studien, Berlin, 1863.

[1319] Franz Cumont, op. cit., Chicago, 1911, p. 189. See also Windischmann, Zoroastrian Studies, Berlin, 1863.

[1320] See below, Chapter 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Chapter 26 below.

[1321] Cap. 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 16.

[1322] Edited by Kroll, De oraculis Chaldaicis, in Breslau Philolog. Abhandl., VII (1894), 1-76. Cory, Ancient Fragments, London, 1832.

[1322] Edited by Kroll, On the Chaldean Oracles, in Breslau Philological Publications, VII (1894), 1-76. Cory, Ancient Fragments, London, 1832.

[1323] L. A. Gray in A. V. W. Jackson, Zoroaster, 1901, pp. 259-60.

[1323] L. A. Gray in A. V. W. Jackson, Zoroaster, 1901, pp. 259-60.

[1324] G. Wolff, Porphyrii de philosophia ex oraculis hauriendis, Berlin, 1886. Pitra, Analecta Sacra, V, 2, pp. 192-95, Πρόκλου ἐκ τῆς Χαλδαικῆς φιλοσοφίας. Many quotations of oracles from Porphyry’s De philosophia ex oraculis hausta are made by Eusebius, Praeparatio evangelica, in PG, XXI.

[1324] G. Wolff, Porphyrii de philosophia ex oraculis hauriendis, Berlin, 1886. Pitra, Analecta Sacra, V, 2, pp. 192-95, Πρόκλου ἐκ τῆς Χαλδαικῆς φιλοσοφίας. Many quotes of oracles from Porphyry’s De philosophia ex oraculis hausta are referenced by Eusebius, Praeparatio evangelica, in PG, XXI.

[1325] Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque, p. 599.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Bouché-Leclercq, Greek Astrology, p. 599.

[1326] Paul Allard, La transformation du Paganisme romain au IVe siècle, pp. 113-33, in Compte Rendu du Congrès Scientifique International des Catholiques. Deuxième Section, Sciences religieuses. Paris, 1891.

[1326] Paul Allard, The Transformation of Roman Paganism in the 4th Century, pp. 113-33, in Proceedings of the International Scientific Congress of Catholics. Second Section, Religious Sciences. Paris, 1891.

[1327] Plotini opera omnia, Porphyrii liber de vita Plotini, cum Marsilii Ficini commentariis ... ed D. Wyttenbach, G. H. Moser, and F. Creuzer, Oxford, 1835, 3 vols. Page references in my citations are to this edition, but I have also employed: Plotini Enneades, ed. R. Volkmann, Leipzig, 1883; Select Works of Plotinus translated from the Greek with an Introduction containing the substance of Porphyry’s Life of Plotinus, by Thomas Taylor, new edition with preface and bibliography by G. R. S. Mead, London, 1909; K. S. Guthrie, The Philosophy of Plotinus, Philadelphia, 1896, and Plotinos, Complete Works, 4 vols., 1918, English Translation. Where my citations give the number of the chapter in addition to the Ennead and Book, these agree with Volkmann’s text and Guthrie’s translation,—which, however, are not quite identical in this respect. A noteworthy recent publication is W. R. Inge, The Philosophy of Plotinus, 1918, 2 vols.

[1327] Plotini opera omnia, Porphyrii liber de vita Plotini, cum Marsilii Ficini commentariis ... edited by D. Wyttenbach, G. H. Moser, and F. Creuzer, Oxford, 1835, 3 vols. Page references in my citations are to this edition, but I have also used: Plotini Enneades, edited by R. Volkmann, Leipzig, 1883; Select Works of Plotinus translated from the Greek with an Introduction containing the substance of Porphyry’s Life of Plotinus, by Thomas Taylor, new edition with preface and bibliography by G. R. S. Mead, London, 1909; K. S. Guthrie, The Philosophy of Plotinus, Philadelphia, 1896, and Plotinos, Complete Works, 4 vols., 1918, English Translation. Where my citations give the number of the chapter in addition to the Ennead and Book, these agree with Volkmann’s text and Guthrie’s translation,—which, however, are not quite identical in this respect. A noteworthy recent publication is W. R. Inge, The Philosophy of Plotinus, 1918, 2 vols.

[1328] H. F. Müller, Plotinische Studien II, in Hermes, XLIX, 70-89, argues that the philosophy of Plotinus was genuinely Hellenic and free from oriental influence, that all theurgy was hateful to him, and that he opposed Gnosticism and astrology. Müller seems to me to overstate his case and to be too ready to exculpate Plotinus, or perhaps rather Hellenism, from concurrence in the superstition of the time.

[1328] H. F. Müller, Plotinische Studien II, in Hermes, XLIX, 70-89, argues that Plotinus's philosophy was genuinely Hellenic and free from Eastern influence, that he disliked all theurgy, and that he was against Gnosticism and astrology. I think Müller is exaggerating his point and too eager to clear Plotinus, or maybe Hellenism, of any connection to the superstitions of that era.

[1329] For Gnosticism see Chapter 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ For Gnosticism see Chapter 15.

[1330] Ennead, II, 9, 14. Πλωτίνου πρὸς τοὺς Γνωστικούς, ed. G. A. Heigl, 1832; and Plotini De Virtutibus et Adversus Gnosticos libellos, ed. A. Kirchhoff, 1847; are simply extracts from the Enneads. See also C. Schmidt, Plotin’s Stellung zum Gnosticismus u. kirchl. Christentum, 1900; in TU, X, 90 pp.

[1330] Ennead, II, 9, 14. Plotinus to the Gnostics, ed. G. A. Heigl, 1832; and Plotinus on Virtues and Against the Gnostics, ed. A. Kirchhoff, 1847; are just excerpts from the Enneads. See also C. Schmidt, Plotinus’ Position on Gnosticism and Ecclesiastical Christianity, 1900; in TU, X, 90 pp.

[1331] Ennead, IV, 4, 40 (II, 805 or 434). Τὰς δὲ γοητείας πῶς; ἢ τῇ συμπαθείᾳ, καὶ τῷ πεφυκέναι συμφωνίαν εἶναι ὁμοίων καὶ ἐναντίωσιν ἀνομοίων, καί τῇ τῶν δυνάμεων τῶν πολλῶν ποικιλίᾳ εἰς ἓν ζῷον συντελούντων. Ibid. 42 (II, 808 or 436) ... καὶ τέχναις καὶ ἰατρῶν καὶ ἐπαοιδῶν ἄλλο ἄλλῳ ἠναγκάσθη παρασχεῖν τι τῆς δυνάμεως τῆς αὐτοῦ. Ennead, IV, 9 (II, 891 or 479). Greek: εἰ δὲ καὶ ἐπωδαὶ καὶ ὅλως μαγεῖαι συνάγουσι καὶ συμπαθεῖς πόῤῥωθεν ποιοῦσι, πάντως τοι διὰ ψυχῆς μιᾶς.

[1331] Ennead, IV, 4, 40 (II, 805 or 434). How about charm? It’s through sympathy and the inherent agreement of similar things and the opposition of dissimilar ones, with the variety of many powers coming together to form a single living being. Ibid. 42 (II, 808 or 436) ... and through arts and those of doctors and invokers, each was compelled to provide something of their own power. Ennead, IV, 9 (II, 891 or 479). Greek: And if spells and all forms of magic gather together and produce sympathy from a distance, it is indeed through a single soul.

[1332] Ennead, IV, 4 (II, 810 or 437).

[1332] Ennead, IV, 4 (II, 810 or 437).

[1333] Ennead, IV, 4, 43-44.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ennead, IV, 4, 43-44.

[1334] Ennead, IV, 4, 44.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ennead, IV, 4, 44.

[1335] See Chapter XII, pp. 323-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Chapter 12, pp. 323-4.

[1336] Vita Plotini, cap. 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Life of Plotinus, cap. 10.

[1337] Vita, cap. 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Life, ch. 10.

[1338] Cap. 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 10.

[1339] A748.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ A748.

[1340] Shown in the article on “Jewelry” in the eleventh edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica, Plate I, Figure 50. The article says of the pendant, “Here we find the themes of archaic Greek art, such as a figure holding up two water-birds, in immediate connexion with Mycenaean gold patterns.” See further A. J. Evans in Journal of Hellenic Studies, 1893, p. 197.

[1340] Featured in the article on “Jewelry” in the eleventh edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica, Plate I, Figure 50. The article describes the pendant, “Here we see themes of archaic Greek art, like a figure holding up two water-birds, closely linked to Mycenaean gold designs.” For more information, see A. J. Evans in Journal of Hellenic Studies, 1893, p. 197.

[1341] J. E. Harrison, Themis, Cambridge, 1912. p. 114, Fig. 20.

[1341] J. E. Harrison, Themis, Cambridge, 1912. p. 114, Fig. 20.

[1342] Vita, cap. 15. It will be noted that like some of the church fathers Plotinus attacked genethlialogy rather than astrology. Προσεῖχε δὲ τοῖς μὲν περὶ τῶν ἀστέρων κανόσιν οὐ πάνυ τι μαθηματικῶς, τοῖς δὲ τῶν γενεθλιαλόγων ἀποτελεστικοῖς ἀκριβέστερον. καὶ φωράσας τῆς ἐπαγγελίας τὸ ἀνεχέγγυον ἐλέγχειν πολλαχοῦ καὶ (τῶν) ἐν τοῖς συγγράμμασιν οὐκ ὤκνησε.

[1342] Vita, cap. 15. It’s worth noting that, unlike some of the church fathers, Plotinus criticized genethlialogy instead of astrology. He paid less attention to the mathematical aspects of the stars while focusing more precisely on the results of genethlialogists. He also did not hesitate to challenge the unreliable claims of the promise in various places and in his writings.

[1343] Ennead II, 3, Περὶ τοῦ εἰ ποιεῖ τὰ ἄστρα. Porphyry arranged his master’s treatises in the form of six enneads of nine each and perhaps somewhat revised them at the same time.

[1343] Ennead II, 3, About what makes the stars. Porphyry organized his teacher's writings into six groups of nine and may have made some revisions while doing so.

[1344] Matheseos libri VIII, ed. Kroll et Skutsch, Lipsiae, 1897. I, 7, 14-22.

[1344] Matheseos libri VIII, ed. Kroll et Skutsch, Leipzig, 1897. I, 7, 14-22.

[1345] See below, pp. 353-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See below, pp. 353-4.

[1346] Ennead II, 3 (p. 242), Ὅτι ἡ τῶν ἄστρων φορὰ σημαίνει περὶ ἕκαστον τὰ ἐσόμενα ἀλλ’ οὐκ αὐτὴ πάντα ποιεῖ, ὡς τοῖς πολλοῖς δοξάζεται, εἴρηται μὲν πρότερον ἐν ἅλλοις. See also Ennead III, 1, and IV, 3-4.

[1346] Ennead II, 3 (p. 242), That the movement of the stars indicates future events for each individual, but does not control everything, as many people believe, has been previously stated in other works. See also Ennead III, 1, and IV, 3-4.

[1347] I, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 18.

[1348] Cap. 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 19.

[1349] Polycraticus, II, 19, (ed. C. C. I. Webb, 1909, I, 112). Mr. Webb (I, xxviii) holds that John of Salisbury “certainly did not have Plotinus,” and derived some passages from his works through Macrobius and Augustine; but he is unable to state in what intermediate source John could have found the passage now in question. It does not seem to reflect Plotinus’ doctrine very accurately.

[1349] Polycraticus, II, 19, (ed. C. C. I. Webb, 1909, I, 112). Mr. Webb (I, xxviii) argues that John of Salisbury “definitely did not have Plotinus,” and he derived some excerpts from his works through Macrobius and Augustine; however, he can't specify the intermediate source where John might have found the particular passage in question. It doesn’t accurately represent Plotinus’ doctrine.

[1350] Ennead IV, iv, 6 and 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ennead IV, iv, 6 and 8.

[1351] Ibid., 30. Guthrie’s translation, “We have shown that memory is useless to the stars: we have agreed that they have senses, namely, sight and hearing,” is quite misleading, as caps. 40-42 make evident.

[1351] Ibid., 30. Guthrie’s translation, “We’ve demonstrated that memory is pointless for the stars: we’ve agreed that they have senses, specifically sight and hearing,” is quite misleading, as caps. 40-42 clearly show.

[1352] Ennead II, iii, 6 and 13 (249-50).

[1352] Ennead II, iii, 6 and 13 (249-50).

[1353] Ennead IV, iv, 31. ὅτι μὲν οὗν ἡ φορὰ ποιεῖ ... ἀναμφισβητήτως μὲν τὰ ἐπίγεια οὐ μόνον τοῑς σώμασιν ἀλλὰ καὶ ταῖς τῆς ψυχῆς διαθέσεσι καὶ τῶν μερῶν ἕκαστον εἰς τὰ ἐπίγεια καὶ ὅλως τὰ κάτω ποιεῖ, πολλαχῇ δῆλον.

[1353] Ennead IV, iv, 31. So, the movement creates ... undoubtedly both the physical world and the emotional states of the soul, and each part is directed towards the earthly and overall the lower realms, as is evident in many ways.

[1354] Idem. Guthrie heads the passage, “Absurdity of Ptolemean Astrology.” See also Ennead, II, iii, 1-5.

[1354] Same here. Guthrie introduces the section, “Absurdity of Ptolemaic Astrology.” See also Ennead, II, iii, 1-5.

[1355] Ennead II, iii, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ennead II, 3, 6.

[1356] Ennead II, iii, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ennead II, iii, 4.

[1357] Guthrie’s translation, Ennead IV, iv, 35. εἰ δὴ δρᾷ τι ὁ ἥλιος καὶ τὰ ἄλλα ἄστρα εἰς τὰ τῇδε, χρὴ νομίζειν αὐτὸν μὲν ἄνω βλέποντα εἶναι.

[1357] Guthrie’s translation, Ennead IV, iv, 35. If the sun and the other stars do something here, one must think of it as looking down from above.

[1358] Idem. καὶ ἐν τοῖς παρ’ ἡμῖν εἰσι πολλαί, ἃς οὐ θερμὰ ἢ ψυχρὰ παρέχεται, ἀλλὰ γενόμενα ποιότησι διαφόροις καὶ λόγοις εἰδοποιηθέντα καὶ φύσεως δυνάμεως μεταλαβόντα, οἷον καὶ λίθων φύσεις καὶ βοτανῶν ἐνέργειαι θαυμαστὰ πολλὰ παρέχονται.

[1358] Same here. There are many things in our realm that aren't just hot or cold, but have different qualities and characteristics shaped by various influences and nature's powers. For example, the properties of stones and the effects of plants offer many fascinating wonders.

[1359] Ennead IV, iv, 34. καὶ ποιήσεις καὶ σημασίας ἐν πολλοῖς ἀλλαχοῦ δὲ σημασίας μόνον.

[1359] Ennead IV, iv, 34. And you will create both meanings in many contexts, but elsewhere only meanings.

[1360] Ennead II, iii (p. 256).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ennead II, iii (p. 256).

[1361] Ibid. (pp. 250-1).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source. (pp. 250-1).

[1362] Ibid., II, iii (pp. 243-6, 254-5, 263-5).

[1362] Ibid., II, iii (pp. 243-6, 254-5, 263-5).

[1363] Ennead, II, ix, 13. τῆς τραγῳδίας τῶν φοβερῶν, ὡς οἴονται, ἐν ταῖς τοῦ κόσμου σφαίραις.

[1363] Ennead, II, ix, 13. of the tragedy of those who are thought to be terrifying in the spheres of the world.

[1364] The references for the statements in this paragraph are in the order of their occurrence: Ennead, II, iii (pp. 257, 251-2); III, iv (p. 521); IV, iv (p. 813); II, iii (p. 260); III, iv (p. 520); IV, 3 (p. 711): in these cases the higher page-numbering is used.

[1364] The references for the statements in this paragraph are listed in the order they appear: Ennead, II, iii (pp. 257, 251-2); III, iv (p. 521); IV, iv (p. 813); II, iii (p. 260); III, iv (p. 520); IV, 3 (p. 711): in these cases, the higher page numbers are used.

[1365] Edited Venice, Aldine Press, 1497 and 1516; Oxford, 1678; by G. Parthey, Berlin, 1857. In the following quotations from it I have usually adhered to T. Taylor’s English translation, London, 1821.

[1365] Edited Venice, Aldine Press, 1497 and 1516; Oxford, 1678; by G. Parthey, Berlin, 1857. In the following quotes from it, I have mostly followed T. Taylor’s English translation, London, 1821.

[1366] Carl Rasche, De Iamblicho libri qui inscribitur de mysteriis auctore, Aschendorff, 1911, 82 pp.

[1366] Carl Rasche, De Iamblicho libri qui inscribitur de mysteriis auctore, Aschendorff, 1911, 82 pp.

[1367] Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque (1898), p. 599, citing Kroll, De oraculis Chaldaicis.

[1367] Bouché-Leclercq, Greek Astrology (1898), p. 599, citing Kroll, On the Chaldaean Oracles.

[1368] De mysteriis, I, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Mysteries, I, 5.

[1369] VIII, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 2.

[1370] I, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 9.

[1371] I, 17 (Taylor’s translation).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 17.

[1372] IV, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 6.

[1373] I, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 10.

[1374] V, 10-12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 10-12.

[1375] I, 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 20.

[1376] II, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 6.

[1377] II, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 7.

[1378] IV, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 1.

[1379] IV, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 2.

[1380] IV, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 10.

[1381] II, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 11.

[1382] II, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 3.

[1383] V, 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Version 20.

[1384] I, 9; VI, 6; II, 11.

[1384] I, 9; VI, 6; II, 11.

[1385] I, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 11.

[1386] V, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 23.

[1387] IV, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 2.

[1388] I, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 12.

[1389] I, 15; III, 24 (Taylor’s translation).

[1389] I, 15; III, 24 (Taylor’s translation).

[1390] VII, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 4.

[1391] VII, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 5.

[1392] III, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 29.

[1393] II, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 10.

[1394] IV, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 10.

[1395] IV, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 12.

[1396] IV, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 3.

[1397] IV, 10; III, 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 10; III, 31.

[1398] IV, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 7.

[1399] II, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 10.

[1400] VI, 5; III, 25; III, 13.

[1400] VI, 5; III, 25; III, 13.

[1401] II, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 10.

[1402] E. S. Bouchier, Syria as a Roman Province, Oxford, 1916, p. 231.

[1402] E. S. Bouchier, Syria as a Roman Province, Oxford, 1916, p. 231.

[1403] De abstinentia, II, 48.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Abstinence, II, 48.

[1404] III, 1, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 1, 10.

[1405] III, 2-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 2-3.

[1406] III, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 11.

[1407] III, 24; III, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 24; III, 17.

[1408] III, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 14.

[1409] III, 25. Although, as stated above, one may be divinely inspired while diseased. But there is no causal connection between the two.

[1409] III, 25. While, as mentioned earlier, someone can be divinely inspired even while ill, there is no direct link between the two.

[1410] III, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 26.

[1411] III, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 15.

[1412] I, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 17.

[1413] VIII, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 4.

[1414] VIII, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 6.

[1415] IX, 3-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 3-4.

[1416] I, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 18.

[1417] Iamblichus, In Nicomachi Geraseni arithmeticam introductionem et De fato, published by Tennulius, Deventer and Arnheim, 1668.

[1417] Iamblichus, In Nicomachi Geraseni arithmeticam introductionem et De fato, published by Tennulius, Deventer and Arnheim, 1668.

[1418] Zeller, Philos. d. Gr., III, 2, 2, p. 608. cites passages to show Porphyry’s leanings towards astrology; but F. Boll, Studien über Claudius Ptolemaeus, 115-17, and Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque, 601-602, are inclined to the opposite view.

[1418] Zeller, Philos. d. Gr., III, 2, 2, p. 608, cites passages to show Porphyry’s interest in astrology; however, F. Boll, Studien über Claudius Ptolemaeus, 115-17, and Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque, 601-602, tend to have the opposite opinion.

[1419] CCAG, passim.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ CCAG, various times.

[1420] Ed. Hieronymus Wolf, Basel, 1559, Greek and Latin.

[1420] Ed. Hieronymus Wolf, Basel, 1559, Greek and Latin.

[1421] III, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 28.

[1422] III, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 29.

[1423] Eusebius, Praep. evang., IV, 6-15, 23; V, 6, 11, 14-15; VI, 1, 4-5; etc., in Migne, PG, XXI.

[1423] Eusebius, Praep. evang., IV, 6-15, 23; V, 6, 11, 14-15; VI, 1, 4-5; etc., in Migne, PG, XXI.

[1424] Loeb Library edition of Julian’s works, I, 398, 412, 433.

[1424] Loeb Library edition of Julian’s works, I, 398, 412, 433.

[1425] I, 482, 498.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 482, 498.

[1426] I, 405.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 405.

[1427] I, 374-75.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 374-75.

[1428] I, 366-67.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 366-67.

[1429] I, 368.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 368.

[1430] I, 419.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 419.

[1431] XXII, xii, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 22, 12, 8.

[1432] XXI, i, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 21, i, 7.

[1433] XXVIII, iv, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 28, 4, 24.

[1434] XXII, xvi, 17-18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XXII, 16, 17-18.

[1435] Published at Venice (Aldine), 1497, along with the De mysteriis, and other works edited or composed by Marsilius Ficinus. See also Procli Opera, ed. Cousin, Paris, 1820-1827, III, 278; and Kroll, Analecta Graeca, Greisswald, 1901, where a Greek translation accompanies the Latin text.

[1435] Published in Venice (Aldine), 1497, along with the De mysteriis, and other works edited or written by Marsilius Ficinus. Also see Procli Opera, ed. Cousin, Paris, 1820-1827, III, 278; and Kroll, Analecta Graeca, Greisswald, 1901, where a Greek translation accompanies the Latin text.

[1436] Eusebii Caesariensis Opera, Pars II, Apologetica, Praep. Evang., IV, 22; V, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14; VI, 1, 4; XIV, 10 (Migne, Patrologia Graeca, vol. 21).

[1436] Eusebii Caesariensis Opera, Part II, Apologetica, Preparation for the Gospel, IV, 22; V, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14; VI, 1, 4; XIV, 10 (Migne, Patrologia Graeca, vol. 21).

[1437] X, 9-10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 9-10.

[1438] Berthelot (1889), p. ix.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1889), p. 9.

[1439] Περι ζώων ἰδιότητος. I have used both the editio princeps by Gesner, Zurich, 1556, and the critical edition by R. Hercher, Paris, 1858, and Teubner, 1864. The work will henceforth be cited without title in the notes.

[1439] On the nature of animals. I have referenced both the editio princeps by Gesner, Zurich, 1556, and the critical edition by R. Hercher, Paris, 1858, and Teubner, 1864. From now on, this work will be cited without the title in the notes.

[1440] See PW, and Christ, Gesch. d. griech. Litt., for further details.

[1440] See PW and Christ, History of Greek Literature, for more details.

[1441] I, 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 22.

[1442] I, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 24.

[1443] I, 35. D. W. Thompson, Glossary of Greek Birds, p. 57, notes that in the Birds of Aristophanes, where the hoopoe appears, “the mysterious root in verse 654 is the magical ἀδίαυτον.”

[1443] I, 35. D. W. Thompson, Glossary of Greek Birds, p. 57, notes that in the Birds of Aristophanes, where the hoopoe appears, “the mysterious root in verse 654 is the magical ἀδίαυτον.”

[1444] I, 48.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 48.

[1445] I, 52.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 52.

[1446] I, 54.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 54.

[1447] II, 2 and 31; III, 5.

[1447] II, 2 and 31; III, 5.

[1448] III, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 17.

[1449] III, 23 and 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 23 and 25.

[1450] III, 26; in I, 45, the woodpecker similarly employs the virtue of an herb to remove a stone blocking the entrance to its nest.

[1450] III, 26; in I, 45, the woodpecker similarly uses the power of a plant to clear a stone blocking the entrance to its nest.

[1451] III, 32 and 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 32 and 38.

[1452] IV, 10, 14, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 10, 14, 17.

[1453] IV, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 27.

[1454] IV, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 29.

[1455] IV, 53.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 53.

[1456] V, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 37.

[1457] VI, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 4.

[1458] VI, 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 16.

[1459] VI, 33.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 33.

[1460] VI, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 41.

[1461] VI, 59.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 59.

[1462] VII, 7-8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 7-8.

[1463] VII, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 14.

[1464] VII, 16. The story is also found in Pliny NH, X, 3, where it is added that Aeschylus remained out-doors that day, because an oracle predicted that he would be killed by the fall of a (tortoise’s) house.

[1464] VII, 16. The story is also found in Pliny NH, X, 3, where it’s noted that Aeschylus stayed outside that day because an oracle predicted that he would die from the fall of a (tortoise’s) shell.

[1465] VIII, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 5.

[1466] VIII, 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 22.

[1467] IX, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 1.

[1468] X, 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ X, 40.

[1469] XI, 2 and 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XI, 2 and 16.

[1470] XII, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 12, 21.

[1471] XIII, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIII, 3.

[1472] XIV, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ XIV, 19.

[1473] C. Iulii Solini Collectanea rerum memorabilium iterum recensuit Th. Mommsen, Berlin, 1895, pp. xxxi-li. Beazley, Dawn of Modern Geography, I, 520-2, lists 152 MSS.

[1473] C. Iulii Solini Collectanea rerum memorabilium iterum recensuit Th. Mommsen, Berlin, 1895, pp. xxxi-li. Beazley, Dawn of Modern Geography, I, 520-2, lists 152 MSS.

[1474] Beazley, Dawn of Modern Geography, I, 247.

[1474] Beazley, Dawn of Modern Geography, I, 247.

[1475] Mommsen (1895), p. 48.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mommsen (1895), p. 48.

[1476] Ibid., p. 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, p. 7.

[1477] Yet one medieval MS of Solinus is described as De variarum herbarum et radicum qualitate et virtute medica; Vienna 3959, 15th century, fols. 56-74.

[1477] Yet one medieval manuscript of Solinus is described as On the Quality and Medicinal Virtues of Various Herbs and Roots; Vienna 3959, 15th century, fols. 56-74.

[1478] In Mommsen’s edition critical apparatus occupies more than one-half of the 216 pages.

[1478] In Mommsen’s edition, the critical apparatus takes up over half of the 216 pages.

[1479] C. W. King, The Natural History, Ancient and Modern, of Precious Stones and Gems, London, 1865, p. 6.

[1479] C. W. King, The Natural History, Ancient and Modern, of Precious Stones and Gems, London, 1865, p. 6.

[1480] Mommsen (1895), pp. 132, 188.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mommsen (1895), pp. 132, 188.

[1481] Ibid., 46-7. Mommsen could give no source for these statements concerning Sardinia, and they do not appear to be in Pliny. But it is from a footnote in the English translation of the Natural History by Bostock and Riley (II, 208, citing Dalechamps, and Lemaire, III, 201) that I learn that the laughter which Pliny (NH, VII, 52) speaks of as a premonitory sign of death in cases of madness, “is not the indication of mirth, but what has been termed the risus Sardonicus, the ‘Sardonic laugh,’ produced by a convulsive action of the muscles of the face.” This form of death may be what Solinus has in mind. Agricola in his work on metallurgy and mines still believes in the poisonous ants of Sardinia; De re metallica, VI, near close, pp. 216-7, in Hoover’s translation, 1912.

[1481] Ibid., 46-7. Mommsen couldn't provide a source for these claims about Sardinia, and they don't seem to be found in Pliny. However, I discovered from a footnote in the English translation of Natural History by Bostock and Riley (II, 208, citing Dalechamps and Lemaire, III, 201) that the laughter mentioned by Pliny (NH, VII, 52) as a warning sign of death in cases of madness "is not a sign of joy, but what has been called risus Sardonicus, the ‘Sardonic laugh,’ caused by a convulsive action of the facial muscles." This type of death might be what Solinus is referring to. Agricola, in his work on metallurgy and mines, still believes in the poisonous ants of Sardinia; De re metallica, VI, near close, pp. 216-7, in Hoover’s translation, 1912.

[1482] Mommsen (1895), p. 57.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mommsen (1895), p. 57.

[1483] Ibid., p. 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 39.

[1484] Mommsen (1895), p. 82.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mommsen (1895), p. 82.

[1485] Ibid., pp. 45-46.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., pp. 45-46.

[1486] Ibid., pp. 13, 68.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., pp. 13, 68.

[1487] Ibid., pp. 18, 41, 159.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., pp. 18, 41, 159.

[1488] Ibid., p. 50, and elsewhere, “siderum disciplinam.”

[1488] Same source., p. 50, and elsewhere, “study of the stars.”

[1489] Ibid., p. 5, “mathematicorum nobilissimus.” Solinus probably takes this from Varro, who, as Plutarch informs us in his Life of Romulus, asked “Tarrutius, his familiar acquaintance, a good philosopher and mathematician,” to calculate the horoscope of Romulus. See above, p. 209.

[1489] Ibid., p. 5, “noble mathematicians.” Solinus likely derives this from Varro, who, as Plutarch tells us in his Life of Romulus, asked “Tarrutius, his close friend, a skilled philosopher and mathematician,” to calculate Romulus's horoscope. See above, p. 209.

[1490] Mommsen (1905), pp. 75-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mommsen (1905), pp. 75-6.

[1491] Ibid., p. 66.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 66.

[1492] PW, for the problem of his identity and further bibliography.

[1492] PW, regarding his identity issue and additional bibliography.

[1493] I have used the text and English translation of A. T. Cory, The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo Nilous, 1840. Philip’s Greek is so bad that some would date it in the fourteenth or fifteenth century. The oldest extant Greek codex was purchased in Andros in 1419. The work was translated into Latin by the fifteenth century at latest; see Vienna 3255, 15th century, 82 fols., Horapollo, Hieroglyphicon latine versorum liber I et libri II introductio cum figuris calamo exaratis et coloratis.

[1493] I have used the text and English translation of A. T. Cory, The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo Nilous, 1840. Philip’s Greek is so poor that some would probably date it to the fourteenth or fifteenth century. The oldest existing Greek manuscript was bought in Andros in 1419. The work was translated into Latin by the fifteenth century at the latest; see Vienna 3255, 15th century, 82 fols., Horapollo, Hieroglyphicon latine versorum liber I et libri II introductio cum figuris calamo exaratis et coloratis.

[1494] I, 1; II, 61; II, 65; II, 36 and 59; II, 57; II, 83; I, 34-5; II, 57; II, 44 and 39 and 76-7 and 85-6 and 88.

[1494] I, 1; II, 61; II, 65; II, 36 and 59; II, 57; II, 83; I, 34-5; II, 57; II, 44 and 39 and 76-7 and 85-6 and 88.

[1495] II, 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 45.

[1496] II, 46; Aelian says the same, however, as we stated above.

[1496] II, 46; Aelian says the same thing, just like we mentioned earlier.

[1497] II, 64.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 64.

[1498] NH, XXVIII, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH, 28, 27.

[1499] II, 72.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 72.

[1500] I, 6. According to Pliny (NH, XX, 26), the hawk sprinkles its eyes with the juice of this herb; Apuleius (Metamorphoses, cap. 30) says that the eagle does so.

[1500] I, 6. According to Pliny (NH, XX, 26), the hawk splashes its eyes with the juice of this herb; Apuleius (Metamorphoses, cap. 30) states that the eagle does the same.

[1501] I, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 3.

[1502] II, 57.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 57.

[1503] I, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 10.

[1504] I, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 11.

[1505] I, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 14.

[1506] I, 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 16.

[1507] I, 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 13.

[1508] I, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 23.

[1509] Sir William Muir, “Ancient Arabic Poetry, its Genuineness and Authenticity,” in Royal Asiatic Society’s Journal (1882), p. 30.

[1509] Sir William Muir, “Ancient Arabic Poetry, its Genuineness and Authenticity,” in Royal Asiatic Society’s Journal (1882), p. 30.

[1510] Ascribed to Enoch in Harleian MS 1612, fol. 15r, Incipit: “Enoch tanquam unus ex philosophis super res quartum librum edidit, in quo voluit determinare ista quatuor: videlicet de xv stellis, de xv herbis, de xv lapidibus preciosis et de xv figuris ipsis lapidibus sculpendis,” and Wolfenbüttel 2725, 14th century, fols. 83-94v; BN 13014, 14th century, fol. 174v; Amplon, Quarto 381 (Erfurt), 14th century, fols. 42-45: for “Enoch’s prayer” see Sloane MS 3821, 17th century, fols, 190v-193.

[1510] Attributed to Enoch in Harleian MS 1612, fol. 15r, Start: “Enoch, like one of the philosophers, wrote the fourth book on these topics, specifically about fifteen stars, fifteen herbs, fifteen precious stones, and fifteen figures to be carved from those stones,” and Wolfenbüttel 2725, 14th century, fols. 83-94v; BN 13014, 14th century, fol. 174v; Amplon, Quarto 381 (Erfurt), 14th century, fols. 42-45: for “Enoch’s prayer” see Sloane MS 3821, 17th century, fols. 190v-193.

Ascribed to Hermes in Harleian 80, Sloane 3847, Royal 12-C-XVIII; Berlin 963, fol. 105; Vienna 5216, 15th century, fols. 63r-66v; “Dixit Enoch quod 15 sunt stelle / ex tractatu Heremeth (i. e. Hermes) et enoch compilatum”; and in the Catalogue of Amplonius (1412 A.D.), Math. 53. See below, II, 220-21.

Ascribed to Hermes in Harleian 80, Sloane 3847, Royal 12-C-XVIII; Berlin 963, fol. 105; Vienna 5216, 15th century, fols. 63r-66v; “Enoch said that there are 15 stars / from the work of Heremeth (i.e. Hermes) and compiled by Enoch”; and in the Catalogue of Amplonius (1412 A.D.), Math. 53. See below, II, 220-21.

The stars are probably fifteen in number because Ptolemy distinguished that many stars of first magnitude. Dante, Paradiso, XIII, 4, also speaks of “quindici stelle.” See Orr (1913), pp. 154-6, where Ptolemy’s descriptions of the fifteen stars of first magnitude and their modern names are given.

The stars are likely around fifteen in total because Ptolemy identified that many stars of the first magnitude. Dante, Paradiso, XIII, 4, also mentions “quindici stelle.” See Orr (1913), pp. 154-6, where Ptolemy’s descriptions of the fifteen stars of first magnitude and their modern names are provided.

[1511] Digby 67, late 12th century, fol. 69r, “Prologus de tribus Mercuriis.” They are also identified by other medieval writers. Some would further identify with Enoch Nannacus or Annacus, king of Phrygia, who foresaw Deucalion’s flood and lamented. See J. G. Frazer (1918), I, 155-6, and P. Buttmann, Mythologus, Berlin, 1828-1829, and E. Babelon, La tradition phrygienne du déluge, in Rev. d. l’hist. d. religs., XXIII (1891), which he cites.

[1511] Digby 67, late 12th century, fol. 69r, “Prologus de tribus Mercuriis.” They are also mentioned by other medieval writers. Some would further associate them with Enoch Nannacus or Annacus, king of Phrygia, who predicted Deucalion’s flood and mourned it. See J. G. Frazer (1918), I, 155-6, and P. Buttmann, Mythologus, Berlin, 1828-1829, and E. Babelon, La tradition phrygienne du déluge, in Rev. d. l’hist. d. religs., XXIII (1891), which he cites.

Roger Bacon stated that some would identify Enoch with “the great Hermogenes, whom the Greeks much commend and laud, and they ascribe to him all secret and celestial science.” Steele (1920) 99.

Roger Bacon said that some people would link Enoch with “the great Hermogenes, who the Greeks greatly praise and commend, and they attribute to him all hidden and heavenly knowledge.” Steele (1920) 99.

[1512] R. H. Charles, The Book of Enoch, Oxford, 1893, p. 33, citing Euseb. Praep. Evan., ix, 17, 8 (Gaisford).

[1512] R. H. Charles, The Book of Enoch, Oxford, 1893, p. 33, citing Euseb. Praep. Evan., ix, 17, 8 (Gaisford).

[1513] Charles (1893), p. 10, citing Ewald.

[1513] Charles (1893), p. 10, citing Ewald.

[1514] ed. Dindorf, 1829.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ ed. Dindorf, 1829.

[1515] Lods, Ad. Le Livre d’Hénoch, Fragments grecs découverts à Akhmin, Paris, 1892.

[1515] Lods, Ad. The Book of Enoch, Greek Fragments Discovered at Akhmim, Paris, 1892.

Charles, R. H., The Book of Enoch, Oxford, 1893, “translated from Professor Dillman’s Ethiopic text, amended and revised in accordance with hitherto uncollated Ethiopic manuscripts and with the Gizeh and other Greek and Latin fragments, which are here published in full.” The Book of Enoch, translated anew, etc., Oxford, 1912. Also translated in Charles (1913) II, 163-281. There are twenty-nine Ethiopic MSS of Enoch.

Charles, R. H., The Book of Enoch, Oxford, 1893, “translated from Professor Dillman’s Ethiopic text, updated and revised based on previously uncollated Ethiopic manuscripts and with the Gizeh and other Greek and Latin fragments, which are published here in full.” The Book of Enoch, translated anew, etc., Oxford, 1912. Also translated in Charles (1913) II, 163-281. There are twenty-nine Ethiopic manuscripts of Enoch.

Charles, R. H. and Morfill, W. R., The Book of the Secrets of Enoch, translated from the Slavonic, Oxford, 1896. Also by Forbes and Charles in Charles (1913) II, 425-69.

Charles, R. H. and Morfill, W. R., The Book of the Secrets of Enoch, translated from the Slavonic, Oxford, 1896. Also by Forbes and Charles in Charles (1913) II, 425-69.

[1516] Charles (1893), p. 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Charles (1893), p. 22.

[1517] Charles (1913), II, 165-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Charles (1913), II, 165-6.

[1518] Charles (1893), pp. 2 and 41.

[1518] Charles (1893), pp. 2 and 41.

[1519] V., 54.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V., 54.

[1520] XV, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 15, 23.

[1521] Introd., vi.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Intro, vi.

[1522] Spec. Nat., I, 9. A Latin fragment, found in the British Museum in 1893 by Dr. M. R. James and published in the Cambridge Texts and Studies, II, 3, Apocrypha Anecdota, pp. 146-50, “seems to point to a Latin translation of Enoch”—Charles (1913) II, 167.

[1522] Spec. Nat., I, 9. A Latin fragment found in the British Museum in 1893 by Dr. M. R. James and published in the Cambridge Texts and Studies, II, 3, Apocrypha Anecdota, pp. 146-50, “seems to point to a Latin translation of Enoch”—Charles (1913) II, 167.

[1523] Book of Enoch, XL, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Book of Enoch, Chapter 40, Verse 9.

[1524] Ibid., XLIII; Secrets of Enoch, IV.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 43; Secrets of Enoch, IV.

[1525] Book of Enoch, XLIII; XC, 21.

[1525] Book of Enoch, XLIII; XC, 21.

[1526] Ibid., LX, 17-18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., LX, 17-18.

[1527] Secrets of Enoch, XIX.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Secrets of Enoch, 19.

[1528] Caps. VI-XI in both Lods and Charles.

[1528] Caps. VI-XI in both Lods and Charles.

[1529] Book of Enoch, VIII, 3, in both Charles and Lods.

[1529] Book of Enoch, VIII, 3, in both Charles and Lods.

[1530] Book of Enoch, LXV, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Book of Enoch, 65, 6.

[1531] Ibid., LXV, 7-8; LXIX, 6-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, LXV, 7-8; LXIX, 6-9.

[1532] Ibid., LXIX, 10-11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same citation., LXIX, 10-11.

[1533] Secrets of Enoch, X.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Secrets of Enoch, X.

[1534] Book of Enoch, XVIII, XXI.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Book of Enoch, 18, 21.

[1535] Ibid., XC, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., XC, 24.

[1536] Singer’s translation. Studies in the History and Method of Science, Vol. I, p. 53, of Scivias, III, 1, in Migne, PL, 197, 565. See also the Koran XV, 18.

[1536] Singer’s translation. Studies in the History and Method of Science, Vol. I, p. 53, of Scivias, III, 1, in Migne, PL, 197, 565. See also the Koran XV, 18.

[1537] Charles, p. 32 and cap. LXXX.

[1537] Charles, p. 32 and ch. 80.

[1538] Singer, 25-26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Artist, 25-26.

[1539] Pp. 187-219.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ pp. 187-219.

[1540] Secrets of Enoch, I and XXX.

[1540] Secrets of Enoch, I and XXX.

[1541] See Morfill-Charles, pp. xxxiv-xxxv, for mention of three and seven heavens in the apocryphal Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, “written about or before the beginning of the Christian era,” and for “the probability of an Old Testament belief in the plurality of the heavens.” For the seven heavens in the apocryphal Ascension of Isaiah see Charles’ edition of that work (1900), xlix.

[1541] See Morfill-Charles, pp. xxxiv-xxxv, for mentions of three and seven heavens in the apocryphal Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, “written around or before the start of the Christian era,” and for “the likelihood of an Old Testament belief in multiple heavens.” For the seven heavens in the apocryphal Ascension of Isaiah, see Charles’ edition of that work (1900), xlix.

[1542] Secrets of Enoch, XXVII. Charles prefaces this passage by the remark, “I do not pretend to understand what follows”: but it seems clear that the waters above the firmament are referred to from what the author goes on to say, “And thus I made firm the circles of the heavens, and caused the waters below which are under the heavens to be gathered into one place.” It would also seem that each of the seven planets is represented as moving in a sphere of crystal. In the Ethiopic version, LIV, 8, we are told that the water above the heavens is masculine, and that the water beneath the earth is feminine; also LX, 7-8, that Leviathan is female and Behemoth male.

[1542] Secrets of Enoch, XXVII. Charles introduces this section with the statement, “I don’t claim to know what comes next”: but it’s clear that the waters above the sky are mentioned based on what the author continues to explain, “And so I secured the circles of the heavens, and caused the waters below, which are beneath the heavens, to be gathered in one place.” It also seems that each of the seven planets is depicted as moving within a sphere of crystal. In the Ethiopic version, LIV, 8, it is stated that the water above the heavens is masculine, and the water beneath the earth is feminine; also in LX, 7-8, it says that Leviathan is female and Behemoth is male.

[1543] Secrets of Enoch, XXX.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Secrets of Enoch, Vol. XXX.

[1544] Ibid., 45-46, see also the Ethiopic Book of Enoch, XCIII, for “seven weeks.”

[1544] Same source., 45-46, see also the Ethiopic Book of Enoch, XCIII, for “seven weeks.”

[1545] Book of Enoch, XVIII, XXIV.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Book of Enoch, 18, 24.

[1546] Ibid., XXXII.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., XXXII.

[1547] Book of Enoch, LII, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Book of Enoch, 52, 2.

[1548] Ibid., LXV, 7-8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., LXV, 7-8.

[1549] Ibid., LX, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 60, 7.

[1550] Ibid., XXXIII.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., XXXIII.

[1551] Secrets of Enoch, XII, XV, XIX.

[1551] Secrets of Enoch, XII, XV, XIX.

[1552] The literature dealing in general with Philo and his philosophy is too extensive to indicate here, while there has been no study primarily devoted to our interest in him. It may be useful to note, however, the most recent editions of his works and studies concerning him, from which the reader can learn of earlier researches. See also Leopold Cohn, The Latest Researches on Philo of Alexandria (Reprinted from The Jewish Quarterly Review), London, 1892. The most recent edition of the Greek text of Philo’s works is by L. Cohn and P. Wendland, Philonis Alexandrini opera quae supersunt, Berlin, 1896-1915, in six vols. The earlier edition was by Mangey. Recent editions of single works are: F. C. Conybeare, Philo about the Contemplative Life, critically edited with a defence of its genuineness, 1895. E. Bréhier, Commentaire allégorique des Saintes Lois après l’œuvre des six jours, Greek and French, 1909. In the passages from Philo quoted in this chapter I have often availed myself of the wording of the English translation by C. D. Yonge in four vols., 1854-1855. The Latin translation of Philo’s works made from the Greek by Lilius Tifernates for Popes Sixtus IV and Innocent VIII is preserved at the Vatican in a series of six MSS written during the years 1479-1484: Vatic. Lat., 180-185.

[1552] The literature discussing Philo and his philosophy is so extensive that it's impossible to cover it all here. However, there hasn't been a study specifically focused on our interests in him. It may be helpful to mention the latest editions of his works and studies about him, from which readers can explore earlier research. See also Leopold Cohn, The Latest Researches on Philo of Alexandria (Reprinted from The Jewish Quarterly Review), London, 1892. The most recent edition of the Greek text of Philo’s works is by L. Cohn and P. Wendland, Philonis Alexandrini opera quae supersunt, Berlin, 1896-1915, in six volumes. The earlier edition was by Mangey. Recent editions of individual works include: F. C. Conybeare, Philo about the Contemplative Life, critically edited with a defense of its authenticity, 1895. E. Bréhier, Commentaire allégorique des Saintes Lois après l’œuvre des six jours, Greek and French, 1909. In the excerpts from Philo quoted in this chapter, I have frequently used the phrasing from the English translation by C. D. Yonge in four volumes, 1854-1855. The Latin translation of Philo’s works, made from the Greek by Lilius Tifernates for Popes Sixtus IV and Innocent VIII, is kept at the Vatican in a series of six manuscripts written between 1479-1484: Vatic. Lat., 180-185.

J. d’Alma, Philon d’Alexandrie et le quatrième Évangile, 1910.

J. d’Alma, Philon d’Alexandrie et le quatrième Évangile, 1910.

N. Bentwich, Philo-Judaeus of Alexandria, 1910 (a small general book).

N. Bentwich, Philo-Judaeus of Alexandria, 1910 (a brief overview).

T. H. Billings, The Platonism of Philo Judaeus, 1919.

T. H. Billings, The Platonism of Philo Judaeus, 1919.

W. Bousset, Jüdisch-Christlicher Schulbetrieb in Alexandria und Rom, 1915.

W. Bousset, Jewish-Christian Schooling in Alexandria and Rome, 1915.

E. Bréhier, Les Idées philosophiques et religieuses de Philon d’Alexandrie, 1908, a scholarly work with a ten-page bibliography.

E. Bréhier, Les Idées philosophiques et religieuses de Philon d’Alexandrie, 1908, an academic work with a ten-page bibliography.

M. Caraccio, Filone d’Alessandria e le sue opere, 1911, a brief indication of the contents of each work.

M. Caraccio, Filone d’Alessandria e le sue opere, 1911, a short overview of what each work contains.

K. S. Guthrie, The Message of Philo Judaeus, 1910, popular.

K. S. Guthrie, The Message of Philo Judaeus, 1910, well-known.

H. Guyot, Les Réminiscences de Philon le Juif chez Plotin, 1906.

H. Guyot, Les Réminiscences de Philon le Juif chez Plotin, 1906.

P. Heinsch, Der Einfluss Philos auf die älteste christliche Exegese, 1908, 296 pp.

P. Heinsch, The Influence of Philosophy on Early Christian Exegesis, 1908, 296 pages.

H. A. A. Kennedy, Philo’s contribution to Religion, 1919.

H. A. A. Kennedy, Philo’s Contribution to Religion, 1919.

J. Martin, Philon, 1907, with a five-page bibliography.

J. Martin, Philon, 1907, featuring a five-page bibliography.

L. H. Mills, Zarathustra, Philo, the Achaemenids and Israel, 1905, 460 pp.

L. H. Mills, Zarathustra, Philo, the Achaemenids and Israel, 1905, 460 pages.

L. Treitel, Philonische Studien, 1915, is of limited scope.

L. Treitel, Philonische Studien, 1915, has a narrow focus.

H. Windisch, Die Frömmigkeit Philos und ihre Bedeutung für das Christentum, 1909.

H. Windisch, Die Frömmigkeit Philos und ihre Bedeutung für das Christentum, 1909.

[1553] The genuineness of this treatise, denied by Graetz and Lucius in the mid-nineteenth century, was amply demonstrated by L. Massebieau, Revue de l’Histoire des Religions, XVI (1887), 170-98, 284-319; Conybeare, Philo about the Contemplative Life, Oxford, 1895; and P. Wendland, Die Therapeuten und die Philonische Schrift vom Beschaulichen Leben, in Jahrb. f. Class. Philologie, Band 22 (1896), 693-770. In St. John’s College Library, Oxford, in a manuscript of the early eleventh century (MS 128, fol. 215 ff) with Dionysius the Areopagite on the ecclesiastical hierarchy, is, Philonis de excircumcisione credentibus in Aegypto Christianis simul et monachis ex suprascripto ab eo sermone de vita theorica aut de orantibus.

[1553] The authenticity of this text, disputed by Graetz and Lucius in the mid-1800s, was clearly proven by L. Massebieau, Revue de l’Histoire des Religions, XVI (1887), 170-98, 284-319; Conybeare, Philo about the Contemplative Life, Oxford, 1895; and P. Wendland, Die Therapeuten und die Philonische Schrift vom Beschaulichen Leben, in Jahrb. f. Class. Philologie, Band 22 (1896), 693-770. At St. John’s College Library, Oxford, in a manuscript from the early eleventh century (MS 128, fol. 215 ff) that contains Dionysius the Areopagite's work on ecclesiastical hierarchy, is found Philonis de excircumcisione credentibus in Aegypto Christianis simul et monachis ex suprascripto ab eo sermone de vita theorica aut de orantibus.

[1554] De mundi opificio, caps. 49 and 50.

[1554] On the Creation of the World, chapters 49 and 50.

[1555] On the Contemplative Life, Chapter 9.

[1555] On the Contemplative Life, Chapter 9.

[1556] So he states in the opening sentences of the other treatise; it is not extant.

[1556] So he says in the opening sentences of the other work; it is not available.

[1557] De mundi opificio, caps. 54 and 55.

[1557] On the Creation of the World, chapters 54 and 55.

[1558] Réville, J., Le logos, d’après Philon d’Alexandrie, Genève, 1877.

[1558] Réville, J., The Logos, According to Philo of Alexandria, Geneva, 1877.

[1559] Lincoln College, Oxford, has a 12th century MS in Greek of the De vita Mosis and De virtutibus,—MS 34.

[1559] Lincoln College, Oxford, has a 12th-century manuscript in Greek of the De vita Mosis and De virtutibus,—MS 34.

[1560] The Alexander sive de animalibus and the complete text of the De providentia exist only in Armenian translation,—see Cohn (1892), p. 16. The Biblical Antiquities, extant only in an imperfect Latin version, is not regarded as a genuine work,—see W. O. E. Oesterley and G. H. Box, The Biblical Antiquities of Philo, now first translated from the old Latin version by M. R. James (1917), p. 7.

[1560] The Alexander sive de animalibus and the full text of the De providentia only exist in Armenian translation—see Cohn (1892), p. 16. The Biblical Antiquities, which only survives in an incomplete Latin version, is not considered an authentic work—see W. O. E. Oesterley and G. H. Box, The Biblical Antiquities of Philo, now translated for the first time from the old Latin version by M. R. James (1917), p. 7.

[1561] Cohn (1892), 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cohn (1892), 11.

[1562] II, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 17.

[1563] (Quod omnis probus liber sit, cap. xi); also The Law Concerning Murderers, cap. 4.

[1563] (That everyone should be free, cap. xi); also The Law About Murderers, cap. 4.

[1564] On Dreams, I, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Dreams, I, 38.

[1565] Numbers XXII-XXV. Balaam is, of course, referred to in a number of other passages of the Bible: Deut., XXIII, 3-6; Joshua, XIII, 22; XXIV, 9-10; Nehemiah, XIII, 1ff; Micah, VI, 5; Second Peter, II, 15-16; Jude, 11; Revelation, II, 14.

[1565] Numbers XXII-XXV. Balaam is mentioned in several other sections of the Bible: Deut., XXIII, 3-6; Joshua, XIII, 22; XXIV, 9-10; Nehemiah, XIII, 1ff; Micah, VI, 5; Second Peter, II, 15-16; Jude, 11; Revelation, II, 14.

[1566] Vita Mosis, I, 48-50. Besides discussion of Balaam in various Biblical commentaries, dictionaries, and encyclopedias, see Hengstenberg, Die Geschichte Bileams und seine Weissagungen, 1842.

[1566] Vita Mosis, I, 48-50. In addition to the discussions of Balaam found in various Biblical commentaries, dictionaries, and encyclopedias, refer to Hengstenberg, Die Geschichte Bileams und seine Weissagungen, 1842.

[1567] De migrat. Abrahami, cap. 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Migration of Abraham, chap. 32.

[1568] Idem, and De somniis, cap. 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Idem, and De somniis, ch. 10.

[1569] De monarchia, I, 1. De mundi opificio, cap. 14.

[1569] On Monarchy, I, 1. On the Creation of the World, cap. 14.

[1570] De mundi opificio, caps. 18, 50 and 24. See also his De gigantibus and Περὶ τοῦ θεοπέμπτους εἶναι τοὺς ὀνείρους.

[1570] On the Creation of the World, ch. 18, 50 and 24. See also his On the Giants and On the Divine Nature of Dreams.

[1571] Ibid., Cap. 50. Huet, the noted French scholar of the 17th century, states in his edition of Origen that “Philo after his custom repeats an opinion of Plato’s and almost his very words for ... he asserts that the stars are not only animals but also the purest intellects.” Migne PG, XVII, col. 978.

[1571] Ibid., Cap. 50. Huet, the well-known French scholar from the 17th century, mentions in his edition of Origen that “Philo, as usual, reiterates a view of Plato’s and nearly quotes him exactly for ... he claims that the stars are not just animals but also the most pure intellects.” Migne PG, XVII, col. 978.

[1572] De monarchia, I, 1; De mundi opificio, cap. 14.

[1572] On Monarchy, I, 1; On the Creation of the World, ch. 14.

[1573] De monarchia, I, 1; De migratione Abrahami, cap. 32; De mundi opificio, cap. 40.

[1573] On Monarchy, I, 1; On the Migration of Abraham, chap. 32; On the Creation of the World, chap. 40.

[1574] Eusebius, De praep. Evang., cap. 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Eusebius, Preparation for the Gospel, cap. 13.

[1575] De mundi opificio, cap. 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Creation of the World, cap. 19.

[1576] De somniis, II, 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Dreams, II, 16.

[1577] Ibid., I, 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., I, 22.

[1578] De bello Jud., V, 5, 5; Antiq., III, 7, 7-8.

[1578] On the Jewish War, V, 5, 5; Antiquities, III, 7, 7-8.

[1579] Der Stern der Weisen (1827), p. 36. “Nur war ihre Astrologie dem Theismus untergeordnet. Der Eine Gott erschien immer als der Herrscher des Himmelsheeres. Sie betrachteten aber die Sterne als lebende göttliche Wesen und Mächte des Himmels.”

[1579] The Star of the Wise (1827), p. 36. “Their astrology was always subordinate to theism. The One God was seen as the ruler of the heavenly hosts. They viewed the stars as living divine beings and powers of the heavens.”

[1580] Münter (1827), pp. 38-39, 43, 45, etc. On the subject of Jewish astrology see also: D. Nielsen, Die altarabische Mondreligion und die mosaische Überlieferung, Strasburg, 1904; F. Hommel, Der Gestirndienst der alten Araber und die altisraelitische Überlieferung, Munich, 1901.

[1580] Münter (1827), pp. 38-39, 43, 45, etc. For more on Jewish astrology, see also: D. Nielsen, The Ancient Arabic Moon Religion and the Mosaic Tradition, Strasbourg, 1904; F. Hommel, The Star Worship of the Ancient Arabs and the Ancient Israelite Tradition, Munich, 1901.

[1581] Such as Aulus Gellius, Macrobius, and Censorinus. These writers seem to have taken it from Varro. We have also noted number mysticism in Plutarch’s Essays.

[1581] Writers like Aulus Gellius, Macrobius, and Censorinus seem to have borrowed from Varro. We've also noticed number mysticism in Plutarch's Essays.

[1582] Browne (1650) IV, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Browne (1650) IV, 12.

[1583] De mundi opificio, cap. 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Creation of the World, chap. 40.

[1584] Ibid., caps. 30-42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., caps. 30-42.

[1585] For the later influence of such doctrines in the Mohammedan world see D. B. Macdonald, Muslim Theology, Jurisprudence, and Constitutional Theory, 1903, pp. 42-3, concerning the “Seveners” and the “Twelvers” and the doctrine of the hidden Iman.

[1585] For the later impact of these doctrines in the Muslim world, see D. B. Macdonald, Muslim Theology, Jurisprudence, and Constitutional Theory, 1903, pp. 42-3, regarding the “Seveners” and the “Twelvers” and the belief in the hidden Imam.

[1586] Ibid., “Thus we have a series of seven times seven Imans, the first, and thereafter each seventh, having the superior dignity of Prophet. The last of the forty-nine Imans, this Muhammad ibn Isma’il, is the greatest and last of the Prophets.”

[1586] Ibid., “So we have a total of seven times seven Imams, with the first one and every seventh one afterward having the higher status of Prophet. The last of the forty-nine Imams, this Muhammad ibn Isma’il, is the greatest and final Prophet.”

[1587] De vita contemplativa, cap. 8. It will be recalled that the fifty books of the Digest of Justinian are similarly divided.

[1587] De vita contemplativa, cap. 8. It should be remembered that the fifty books of the Digest of Justinian are also divided in the same way.

[1588] De mundi opificio, cap. 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Creation of the World, cap. 3.

[1589] De mundi opificio, caps. 15-16. See also on perfect numbers On the Allegories of the Sacred Laws.

[1589] On the Creation of the World, caps. 15-16. See also on perfect numbers On the Allegories of the Sacred Laws.

[1590] Ibid., cap. 20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., cap. 20.

[1591] Vita Mosis, I, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Vita Mosis, I, 17.

[1592] De mundi opificio, cap. 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Creation of the World, cap. 24.

[1593] Ibid., cap. 50.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, cap. 50.

[1594] De somniis, II, 21-22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Dreams, II, 21-22.

[1595] De somniis, II, I.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Dreams, II, I.

[1596] Cap. 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 38.

[1597] II, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 37.

[1598] Cap. 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 5.

[1599] Since I finished this chapter, I have noted that the “folk-lore in the Old Testament” has led Sir James Frazer to write a passage on “the harlequins of history” somewhat similar to that of Philo on Joseph’s coat of many colors. After remarking that friends and foes behold these politicians of the present and historical figures of the future from opposite sides and see only that particular hue of the coat which happens to be turned toward them, Sir James concludes (1918), II, 502, “It is for the impartial historian to contemplate these harlequins from every side and to paint them in their coats of many colors, neither altogether so white as they appeared to their friends nor altogether so black as they seemed to their enemies.” But who can paint out the bloodstains?

[1599] Since I finished this chapter, I have noticed that the “folk-lore in the Old Testament” has inspired Sir James Frazer to write a passage about “the harlequins of history” that is somewhat similar to Philo’s description of Joseph’s coat of many colors. After pointing out that friends and enemies view these current politicians and historical figures from different perspectives, only seeing the specific color of the coat that’s facing them, Sir James concludes (1918), II, 502, “It is for the impartial historian to look at these harlequins from every angle and to depict them in their coats of many colors, neither completely as white as they appeared to their friends nor entirely as black as they seemed to their enemies.” But who can reveal the bloodstains?

[1600] A good account of the Gnostic sources and bibliography of secondary works on Gnosticism will be found in CE, “Gnosticism” (1909) by J. P. Arendzen.

[1600] A detailed overview of the Gnostic sources and a list of secondary works on Gnosticism can be found in CE, “Gnosticism” (1909) by J. P. Arendzen.

[1601] Anz, Zur Frage nach dem Ursprung des Gnostizismus, 1897, 112 pp., in TU, XV, 4.

[1601] Anz, On the Question of the Origin of Gnosticism, 1897, 112 pp., in TU, XV, 4.

[1602] Amélineau, Essai sur le gnosticisme égyptien, ses développements et son origine égyptienne, 1887, 330 pp., in Musée Guimet, tom. 14; and various other publications by the same author.

[1602] Amélineau, Essay on Egyptian Gnosticism, Its Developments and Egyptian Origin, 1887, 330 pages, in Guimet Museum, vol. 14; and various other publications by the same author.

[1603] Bousset, Hauptprobleme der Gnosis, 1911; and “Gnosticism” in EB, 11th edition.

[1603] Bousset, Main Issues of Gnosticism, 1911; and “Gnosticism” in EB, 11th edition.

[1604] The dating is somewhat disputed. Some of the Gnostic writings discovered in 1896 have, I believe, not yet been published, although announced to be edited by C. Schmidt in TU. Grenfell and Hunt will soon publish “a small group of 21 papyri ... among which is a gnostic magical text of some interest”: Grenfell (1921), p. 151.

[1604] The dating is somewhat debated. Some of the Gnostic writings found in 1896 have, I think, not been published yet, even though it's been stated that C. Schmidt is editing them in TU. Grenfell and Hunt will soon release “a small group of 21 papyri ... including a gnostic magical text of some interest”: Grenfell (1921), p. 151.

[1605] The Gospel of Matthew, XXIV, 29-31. Not to mention Paul’s “angels and principalities and powers.”

[1605] The Gospel of Matthew, XXIV, 29-31. Not to mention Paul’s “angels, rulers, and authorities.”

[1606] St. George Stock, “Simon Magus,” in EB, 11th edition. See also George Salmon in Dict. Chris. Biog., IV, 681.

[1606] St. George Stock, “Simon Magus,” in EB, 11th edition. See also George Salmon in Dict. Chris. Biog., IV, 681.

[1607] Irenaeus, Against Heresies, I, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Irenaeus, Against Heresies, Book I, 23.

[1608] Homilies, XVIII, 1-.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homilies, XVIII, 1-.

[1609] Epiphanius, Panarion, A-B-XXI; Petavius, 55-60; Dindorf,
II, 6-12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Epiphanius, Panarion, A-B-XXI; Petavius, 55-60; Dindorf,
II, 6-12.

[1610] First Apology, cap. 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ First Apology, ch. 26.

[1611] Irenaeus and Epiphanius as cited above; also Hippolytus, Philosophumena, VI, 2-15; X, 8.

[1611] Irenaeus and Epiphanius as mentioned earlier; also Hippolytus, Philosophumena, VI, 2-15; X, 8.

[1612] See, for example, Irenaeus, Against Heresies, I, i, 3, where we are told among other things that the disciples of the Gnostic Valentinus affirm that the number of these aeons is signified by the thirty years of Christ’s life which elapsed before He began His public ministry.

[1612] See, for example, Irenaeus, Against Heresies, I, i, 3, where we are told, among other things, that the followers of the Gnostic Valentinus claim that the number of these aeons is represented by the thirty years of Christ’s life that passed before He started His public ministry.

[1613] Homilies, II, 23-25; Recognitions, II, 8-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homilies, II, 23-25; Recognitions, II, 8-9.

[1614] Homilies, II, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homilies, 2, 25.

[1615] Reply to Celsus, I, 57, and VI, 11.

[1615] Reply to Celsus, I, 57, and VI, 11.

[1616] Irenaeus, Against Heresies, I, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Irenaeus, Against Heresies, I, 30.

[1617] G. Parthey, Zwei griech. Zauberpapyri des Berliner Museums, 1860, p. 128; C. Wessely, Griech. Zauberpapyrus von Paris und London, 1888, p. 115; F. G. Kenyon, Greek Papyri in the British Museum, 1893, p. 469ff.

[1617] G. Parthey, Two Greek Magical Papyri from the Berlin Museum, 1860, p. 128; C. Wessely, Greek Magical Papyri from Paris and London, 1888, p. 115; F. G. Kenyon, Greek Papyri in the British Museum, 1893, p. 469ff.

[1618] Josephus, Antiquities, I, ii, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Josephus, *Antiquities*, I, ii, 3.

[1619] R. Wünsch, Sethianische Verfluchungstafeln aus Rom, Leipzig, 1898.

[1619] R. Wünsch, Sethian Cursing Tablets from Rome, Leipzig, 1898.

[1620] E. Preuschen, Die apocryph. gnost. Adamschrift, 1900. Mechitarist collection of Old Testament Apocrypha, Venice, 1896.

[1620] E. Preuschen, The Apocryphal Gnostic Texts of Adam, 1900. Mechitarist Collection of Old Testament Apocrypha, Venice, 1896.

[1621] The diagram is described in the Reply to Celsus, VI, 24-38; in the following description I have somewhat altered the order. An attempt to reproduce this diagram will be found in CE, “Gnosticism,” p. 597.

[1621] The diagram is explained in the Reply to Celsus, VI, 24-38; in the description below, I've changed the order a bit. You can find an attempt to recreate this diagram in CE, “Gnosticism,” p. 597.

[1622] Reply to Celsus, VI, 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Response to Celsus, VI, 22.

[1623] Anz. (1897), p. 78.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Anz. (1897), p. 78.

[1624] Adv. haer., I, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Adv. haer., I, 23.

[1625] Wm. Hartel, S. Thasci Caecili Cypriani Opera Omnia, Pars III, Opera Spuria (1870), p. 90, De rebaptismate, cap. 16, “quod si aliquo lusu perpetrari potest, sicut adfirmantur plerique huiusmodi lusus Anaxilai esse, sive naturale quid est quo pacto possit hoc contingere, sive illi putant hoc se conspicere, sive maligni opus et magicum virus ignem potest in aqua exprimere.”

[1625] Wm. Hartel, S. Thasci Caecili Cypriani Opera Omnia, Part III, Opera Spuria (1870), p. 90, De rebaptismate, cap. 16, “if it can be done through some game of chance, as many assert that such games belong to Anaxilas, or if there is some natural reason how this could happen, or if they believe they can see this, or if evil works and magical influence can ignite fire in water.”

[1626] Contra haereses, II, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Against Heresies, II, 2.

[1627] Pistis-Sophia, ed. Schwartze and Petermann (1851), pp. 386-7; ed. Mead (1896), p. 390.

[1627] Pistis-Sophia, edited by Schwartze and Petermann (1851), pp. 386-7; edited by Mead (1896), p. 390.

[1628] Irenaeus, Against Heresies, I, 13, et seq.; Hippolytus, Philosophumena, VI, 34, et seq.; Epiphanius, Panarion, ed. Dindorf, II, 217, et seq. (ed. Petav., 232, et seq.). Concerning Marcus see further Tertullian, De praescript., L; Theodoret, Haeret. Fab., I, 9; Jerome, Epist., 29; Augustine, Haer., xiv. “D’après Reuvens,” says Berthelot (1885), p. 57, “le papyrus no 75 de Leide renferme un mélange de recettes magiques, alchimiques, et d’idées gnostiques; ces dernières empruntées aux doctrines de Marcus.”

[1628] Irenaeus, Against Heresies, I, 13, et seq.; Hippolytus, Philosophumena, VI, 34, et seq.; Epiphanius, Panarion, ed. Dindorf, II, 217, et seq. (ed. Petav., 232, et seq.). For more on Marcus, see Tertullian, De praescript., L; Theodoret, Haeret. Fab., I, 9; Jerome, Epist., 29; Augustine, Haer., xiv. “According to Reuvens,” Berthelot (1885), p. 57, “papyrus no. 75 from Leiden contains a mix of magical and alchemical recipes, as well as Gnostic ideas, which are drawn from Marcus's doctrines.”

[1629] Hippolytus, Philosophumena, VI, preface; I, 2; and IV, 43-4.

[1629] Hippolytus, Philosophumena, VI, preface; I, 2; and IV, 43-4.

[1630] Censorinus, De die natali, caps. 7 and 14.

[1630] Censorinus, De die natali, caps. 7 and 14.

[1631] Arendzen, Gnosticism, in CE.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Arendzen, Gnosticism, in AD.

[1632] Ruelle et Poirée, Le chant gnostico-magique, Solesmes, 1901.

[1632] Ruelle and Poirée, The Gnostic-Magical Song, Solesmes, 1901.

[1633] Irenaeus, I, 25; Hippolytus, VII, 20; Epiphanius, ed. Dindorf, II, 64.

[1633] Irenaeus, I, 25; Hippolytus, VII, 20; Epiphanius, ed. Dindorf, II, 64.

[1634] Irenaeus, I, 24; Epiphanius, ed. Dindorf, II, 27-8.

[1634] Irenaeus, I, 24; Epiphanius, ed. Dindorf, II, 27-8.

[1635] Hippolytus, VII, 14-15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hippolytus, VII, 14-15.

[1636] The more correct title for the Philosophumena, see IX, 8-12.

[1636] The more accurate title for the Philosophumena, see IX, 8-12.

[1637] Dindorf, II, 109-10, 507-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Dindorf, II, 109-10, 507-9.

[1638] A. Merx, Bardesanes der letzte Gnostiker, Jena, 1864. F. Haase, Zur bardesanischen Gnosis, Leipzig, 1910, in TU, XXIV, 4.

[1638] A. Merx, Bardesanes der letzte Gnostiker, Jena, 1864. F. Haase, Zur bardesanischen Gnosis, Leipzig, 1910, in TU, XXIV, 4.

[1639] English translation in AN, VIII, 723-34.

[1639] English translation in AN, VIII, 723-34.

[1640] Recognitions, IX, 17 and 19-29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions, IX, 17 and 19-29.

[1641] English translations by A. A. Bevan, 1897; F. C. Burkett, 1899; G. R. S. Mead, 1906.

[1641] English translations by A. A. Bevan, 1897; F. C. Burkett, 1899; G. R. S. Mead, 1906.

[1642] F. Nau, Une biographie inédite de Bardesane l’astrologue, 1897.

[1642] F. Nau, A Previously Unpublished Biography of Bardesane the Astrologer, 1897.

[1643] ed. Coptic and Latin by M. G. Schwartze and J. H. Petermann, 1851; French translation by E. Amélineau, 1895; English by G. R. S. Mead, 1896; German by C. Schmidt, 1905. The Coptic text is thickly interspersed with Greek words and phrases. In the same manuscript occurs the Book of the Saviour of which we shall also treat.

[1643] edited Coptic and Latin by M. G. Schwartze and J. H. Petermann, 1851; French translation by E. Amélineau, 1895; English by G. R. S. Mead, 1896; German by C. Schmidt, 1905. The Coptic text is heavily mixed with Greek words and phrases. The same manuscript contains the Book of the Saviour, which we will also discuss.

[1644] Pistis-Sophia, 25-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pistis-Sophia, 25-6.

[1645] Ibid., 336-50.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 336-50.

[1646] Ibid., 355, et seq.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 355, et seq.

[1647] Ibid., 389-90.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 389-90.

[1648] Ibid., 255 and 258.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 255 and 258.

[1649] Pistis-Sophia, 29-30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pistis-Sophia, 29-30.

[1650] Ibid., 319-35.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 319-35.

[1651] Ibid., 357-8, 375-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 357-358, 375-376.

[1652] Carl Schmidt, Gnostische Schrifte in koptischer Sprache aus dem codex Brucianus, 1892, 692 pp., in TU, VIII, 2, with German translation of the Coptic text at pp. 142-223. Portions have been translated into English by G. R. S. Mead, Fragments of a Faith Forgotten, 1900.

[1652] Carl Schmidt, Gnostic Texts in Coptic from the Brucianus Codex, 1892, 692 pp., in TU, VIII, 2, with German translation of the Coptic text on pp. 142-223. Some sections have been translated into English by G. R. S. Mead, Fragments of a Faith Forgotten, 1900.

[1653] Pistis-Sophia, 205-15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pistis-Sophia, 205-15.

[1654] C. W. King, The Gnostics and their Remains, 1887, pp. xvi-xviii, 215-8. Also his The Natural History, Ancient and Modern, of Precious Stones and Gems, London, 1865.

[1654] C. W. King, The Gnostics and their Remains, 1887, pp. xvi-xviii, 215-8. Also his The Natural History, Ancient and Modern, of Precious Stones and Gems, London, 1865.

[1655] A. B. Cook, Zeus, p. 235, citing J. Spon, Miscellanea eruditae antiquitatis, Lyons, 1685, p. 297.

[1655] A. B. Cook, Zeus, p. 235, citing J. Spon, Miscellanea eruditae antiquitatis, Lyons, 1685, p. 297.

[1656] Reitzenstein, Poimandres, pp. 111-3. On the planets in later medieval art see Fuchs, Die Ikonographie der 7 Planeten in der Kunst Italiens bis zum Ausgange des Mittelalters, Munich, 1909.

[1656] Reitzenstein, Poimandres, pp. 111-3. For information on the planets in later medieval art, see Fuchs, Die Ikonographie der 7 Planeten in der Kunst Italiens bis zum Ausgange des Mittelalters, Munich, 1909.

[1657] E. S. Bouchier, Spain under the Roman Empire, p. 125.

[1657] E. S. Bouchier, Spain under the Roman Empire, p. 125.

[1658] Hermann Gollancz, Selection of Charms from Syriac Manuscripts, 1898; also pp. 77-97 in Acts of International Congress of Orientalists, Sept., 1897; Syriac text and English translation.

[1658] Hermann Gollancz, Selection of Charms from Syriac Manuscripts, 1898; also pp. 77-97 in Acts of International Congress of Orientalists, Sept., 1897; Syriac text and English translation.

[1659] In 1885-1886 eleven tracts by Priscillian were discovered by G. Schepss in a Würzburg MS. They shed, however, little light upon the question whether he was addicted to magic. They have been published in Priscilliani quae supersunt, etc., ed. G. Schepss, 1889, in CSEL, XVIII.

[1659] In 1885-1886, eleven writings by Priscillian were found by G. Schepss in a Würzburg manuscript. However, they provide little insight into whether he practiced magic. They were published in Priscilliani quae supersunt, etc., edited by G. Schepss, 1889, in CSEL, XVIII.

See also E. Ch. Babut, Priscillien et la Priscillienisme, Paris, 1909 (Bibl. d. l’École d. Hautes Études, Fasc. 169), which supersedes the earlier works of Paret, 1891; Dierich, 1897; and Edling, 1902.

See also E. Ch. Babut, Priscillien and Priscillianism, Paris, 1909 (Bibl. d. l’École d. Hautes Études, Fasc. 169), which replaces the earlier works of Paret, 1891; Dierich, 1897; and Edling, 1902.

[1660] Sulpicii Severi Historia Sacra, II, 46-51 (Migne, PL, XX, 155, et seq.) S. Isidori Hispalensis Episcopi, De viris illustribus, Cap. 15 (Migne, PL, LXXXIII, 1092).

[1660] Sulpicii Severi Historia Sacra, II, 46-51 (Migne, PL, XX, 155, et seq.) S. Isidori Hispalensis Episcopi, De viris illustribus, Cap. 15 (Migne, PL, LXXXIII, 1092).

[1661] Realencyklopädie für protestantische Theologie, XVI, 63.

[1661] Encyclopedia of Protestant Theology, XVI, 63.

[1662] My following statements in the text are based upon E. Chavannes et P. Pelliot, Un traité manichéen retrouvé en Chine, 1913,—they date the Chinese translation about 900 A.D. and the MS of it within a century later; W. Radloff, Chuastuanift, Das Bussgebet der Manichäer, Petrograd, 1909; A. v. Le Coq, Chuastuanift, ein Sündenbekenntnis der Manichäischen Auditores, Berlin, 1911. There are further publications on the subject.

[1662] My statements in this text are based on E. Chavannes and P. Pelliot, *Un traité manichéen retrouvé en Chine*, 1913—they date the Chinese translation to about 900 A.D. and the manuscript to within a century later; W. Radloff, *Chuastuanift, Das Bussgebet der Manichäer*, Petrograd, 1909; A. v. Le Coq, *Chuastuanift, ein Sündenbekenntnis der Manichäischen Auditores*, Berlin, 1911. There are additional publications on the topic.

[1663] The following details are drawn from the articles on the Mandaeans in EB, 11th edition, by K. Kessler and G. W. Thatcher, and in ERE by W. Brandt, author of Mandäische Religion, 1889, and Mandäische Schriften, 1893, and from Anz (1897), pp. 70-8. Further bibliography will be found in these references.

[1663] The following information is taken from the articles on the Mandaeans in EB, 11th edition, by K. Kessler and G. W. Thatcher, and in ERE by W. Brandt, author of Mandäische Religion, 1889, and Mandäische Schriften, 1893, and from Anz (1897), pp. 70-8. More bibliography can be found in these references.

[1664] The number five also appears in the Pistis-Sophia and other Gnostic literature.

[1664] The number five also appears in the Pistis-Sophia and other Gnostic texts.

[1665] H. Pognon, Une Incantation contre les génies malfaisants en Mandäite, 1893; Inscriptions mandaïtes des coupes de Khonabir, 1897-1899. M. Lidzbarski, Mandäische Zaubertexte, in Ephemeris f. semit. Epig., I (1902), 89-106. J. A. Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts from Nippur, 1913.

[1665] H. Pognon, Une Incantation contre les génies malfaisants en Mandäite, 1893; Inscriptions mandaïtes des coupes de Khonabir, 1897-1899. M. Lidzbarski, Mandäische Zaubertexte, in Ephemeris f. semit. Epig., I (1902), 89-106. J. A. Montgomery, Aramaic Incantation Texts from Nippur, 1913.

[1666] Genesis XLIV, 5, and J. G. Frazer (1918), II, 426-34.

[1666] Genesis 44:5, and J. G. Frazer (1918), II, 426-34.

[1667] In the apocryphal Protevangelium of James, cap. 16, both Joseph and Mary undergo the test.

[1667] In the apocryphal Protevangelium of James, cap. 16, both Joseph and Mary face the trial.

[1668] Joachim consults the plate in the Protevangelium, cap. 5.

[1668] Joachim looks at the plate in the Protevangelium, cap. 5.

[1669] See J. G. Frazer, Folk-Lore in the Old Testament, 1918, 3 vols., and also his other works; for instance, The Magic Art, 1911, I, 258, for the contest in magic rain-making between Elijah and the priests of Baal in First Kings, Chapter XVIII, while I do not understand why Joshua is not mentioned in connection with “The magical control of the sun,” Ibid., I, 311-19.

[1669] See J. G. Frazer, Folk-Lore in the Old Testament, 1918, 3 vols., and also his other works; for example, The Magic Art, 1911, I, 258, for the competition in magic rain-making between Elijah and the priests of Baal in First Kings, Chapter XVIII, while I don’t understand why Joshua isn’t mentioned in connection with “The magical control of the sun,” Ibid., I, 311-19.

[1670] However, the Apocrypha of the New Testament may be read in English translation by Alexander Walker in The Ante-Nicene Fathers (American edition), VIII, 357-598, and in that by Hone in 1820, which has since been reprinted without change. It includes only a part of the apocrypha now known and presents these in a blind fashion without explanation. It differs from Tischendorf’s text of the apocryphal gospels (Evangelia Apocrypha, ed. Tischendorf, Lipsiae, 1876) both in the titles of the gospels, the distribution of the texts under the respective titles, and the division into chapters. I have, however, sometimes used Hone’s wording in making quotations. Older than Tischendorf is Thilo, Codex apocryphus Novi Testamenti, Leipzig, 1832; Fabricius, etc.

[1670] However, the Apocrypha of the New Testament can be read in English translation by Alexander Walker in The Ante-Nicene Fathers (American edition), VIII, 357-598, and in the version by Hone from 1820, which has been reprinted unchanged since then. It includes only part of the apocrypha currently known and presents these texts in a haphazard manner without explanation. It differs from Tischendorf’s text of the apocryphal gospels (Evangelia Apocrypha, ed. Tischendorf, Lipsiae, 1876) in the titles of the gospels, the organization of the texts under the respective titles, and the chapter divisions. However, I have occasionally used Hone’s wording for quotations. Older than Tischendorf is Thilo, Codex apocryphus Novi Testamenti, Leipzig, 1832; Fabricius, etc.

[1671] It is ascribed to the second century both by Tischendorf and The Catholic Encyclopedia (“Apocrypha,” 607). There are plenty of fairly early Greek MSS for it.

[1671] It is attributed to the second century by both Tischendorf and The Catholic Encyclopedia (“Apocrypha,” 607). There are quite a few reasonably early Greek manuscripts for it.

[1672] The Greek MSS are of the 15th and 16th centuries; Tischendorf examined only partially a Latin palimpsest of it which is probably of the fifth century.

[1672] The Greek manuscripts are from the 15th and 16th centuries; Tischendorf only partially examined a Latin palimpsest of it, which is likely from the fifth century.

[1673] So argues The Catholic Encyclopedia, 608; Tischendorf seems inclined to date the Gospel of Thomas a little later than that of James, and to hold that we possess only a fragment of it.

[1673] So argues The Catholic Encyclopedia, 608; Tischendorf seems to think that the Gospel of Thomas is dated slightly later than the Gospel of James, and believes that we only have a fragment of it.

[1674] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 25, “fecitque dominus Iesus plurima in Egypto miracula quae neque in evangelio infantiae neque in evangelio perfecto scripta reperiuntur.”

[1674] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 25, “And the Lord Jesus performed many miracles in Egypt that are not recorded in either the infancy gospel or the complete gospel.”

[1675] Tischendorf (1876), p. xlviii. As I have already intimated on other occasions, it seems to me no explanation to call such stories “oriental.” Christianity was an oriental religion to begin with. Moreover, as our whole investigation goes to show, both classical antiquity and the medieval west were ready enough both to repeat and to invent similar tales.

[1675] Tischendorf (1876), p. xlviii. As I've mentioned before, I don’t think it's enough to simply label these stories as “oriental.” Christianity was originally an eastern religion. Furthermore, as our entire investigation shows, both classical antiquity and medieval Europe were quick to share and create similar stories.

[1676] It may be noted, however, that the chief miracles of the Gospels were attacked as “absurd or unworthy of the performer” nearly two centuries ago by Thomas Woolston in his Discourses on the Miracles of our Saviour, 1727-1730. The words in quotation marks are from J. B. Bury’s History of Freedom of Thought, 1913, p. 142.

[1676] It's worth noting that the main miracles in the Gospels were criticized as “absurd or unworthy of the performer” almost two hundred years ago by Thomas Woolston in his Discourses on the Miracles of our Saviour, 1727-1730. TheQuoted words are from J. B. Bury’s History of Freedom of Thought, 1913, p. 142.

[1677] Migne, PL, 59, 162 ff. The list was reproduced with slight variations by Hugh of St. Victor in the twelfth century in his Didascalicon (IV, 15), and in the thirteenth century by Vincent of Beauvais in the Speculum Naturale (I, 14).

[1677] Migne, PL, 59, 162 ff. The list was reproduced with minor changes by Hugh of St. Victor in the twelfth century in his Didascalicon (IV, 15), and in the thirteenth century by Vincent of Beauvais in the Speculum Naturale (I, 14).

[1678] Tischendorf (1876), pp. xxiii-xxiv.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tischendorf (1876), pp. xxiii-xxiv.

[1679] Mâle (1913), pp. 207-8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Male (1913), pp. 207-8.

[1680] Since writing this, I find that Mâle has been impressed by the same resemblance. He writes (1913), p. 207, “Some chapters in the apocryphal gospels are like the Life of Apollonius of Tyana or even like The Golden Ass, permeated with the belief in witchcraft and magic.” The resemblance to Apuleius is also noted in AN, VIII, 353.

[1680] Since writing this, I see that Mâle has noticed the same similarity. He writes (1913), p. 207, “Some chapters in the apocryphal gospels are similar to the Life of Apollonius of Tyana or even like The Golden Ass, filled with beliefs in witchcraft and magic.” The similarity to Apuleius is also mentioned in AN, VIII, 353.

[1681] Tischendorf, Evang. Infantiae Arabicum, caps. 20-21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tischendorf, Gospel of Infancy in Arabic, caps. 20-21.

[1682] Ibid., cap. 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., cap. 17.

[1683] Ibid., cap. 20, “nullum in mundo doctum aut magum aut incantatorem omisimus quin illum accerseremus; sed nihil nobis profuit.”

[1683] Ibid., cap. 20, “We haven’t left out any learned individuals, wizards, or sorcerers in the world without summoning them; but it was of no benefit to us.”

[1684] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 35, “Extemplo exivit ex puero illo satanas fugiens cani rabido similis.” The apocryphal gospel adds, “This same boy who struck Jesus,” i. e., while he was still possessed by the demon, “and out of whom Satan went in the form of a dog, was Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Him to the Jews. And that same side, on which Judas struck him, the Jews pierced with a lance.”

[1684] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 35, “Immediately, Satan left that boy, fleeing like a rabid dog.” The apocryphal gospel adds, “This same boy who hit Jesus,” meaning, while he was still possessed by the demon, “and from whom Satan came out in the form of a dog, was Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Him to the Jews. And that same side, where Judas struck him, the Jews pierced with a lance.”

[1685] Ibid., cap. 44; Evang. Thomae Lat., cap. 7; Ps. Matth., cap. 32.

[1685] Ibid., ch. 44; The Gospel of Thomas in Latin, ch. 7; Psalms of Matthew, ch. 32.

[1686] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Evang. Inf. Arab., ch. 15.

[1687] Ibid., cap. 19, “qui veneficio tactus uxore frui non poterat.”

[1687] Same source., chap. 19, “who was unable to enjoy his wife due to sorcery.”

[1688] Ibid., cap. 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., cap. 14.

[1689] Ibid., cap. 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., cap. 16.

[1690] See below, chapter 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See chapter 24 below.

[1691] Evang. Inf. Arab., caps. 33-34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Evang. Inf. Arab., chs. 33-34.

[1692] Ibid., caps. 10-11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., pp. 10-11.

[1693] Ibid., caps. 27-32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., caps. 27-32.

[1694] Ibid., cap. 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., cap. 30.

[1695] Ibid., cap. 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., cap. 24.

[1696] Ibid., caps. 42-43; Ps. Matth., 41; Evang. Thom. Lat., 14. Compare pp. 279-80 above.

[1696] Ibid., caps. 42-43; Ps. Matth., 41; Evang. Thom. Lat., 14. Compare pp. 279-80 above.

[1697] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Evang. Inf. Arab., ch. 37.

[1698] Ibid., 38-39; Ps. Matth., 37; Evang. Thom. Lat., 11.

[1698] Ibid., 38-39; Ps. Matth., 37; Evang. Thom. Lat., 11.

[1699] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 36; Ps. Matth., 27; Evang. Thom. Lat., 4.

[1699] Evangelium Infantium Arabum, cap. 36; Evangelium Matthaei, 27; Evangelium Thomae Latinum, 4.

[1700] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 40. See Ad-Damîrî, translated by A. S. G. Jayakar, 1906, I, 703, for a Moslem tale of Jews who called Jesus “the enchanter the son of the enchantress,” and were transformed into pigs.

[1700] Evang. Inf. Arab., ch. 40. See Ad-Damîrî, translated by A. S. G. Jayakar, 1906, I, 703, for a Muslim story about Jews who referred to Jesus as “the enchanter, the son of the enchantress,” and were turned into pigs.

[1701] Evang. Inf. Arab., 46; Evang. Thom. Lat., 4; Ps. Matth., 26, where Mary afterwards induces Jesus to restore him to life, and 28.

[1701] Evang. Inf. Arab., 46; Evang. Thom. Lat., 4; Ps. Matth., 26, where Mary later convinces Jesus to bring him back to life, and 28.

[1702] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 47; Evang. Thom. Lat., 5; Ps. Matth., 29.

[1702] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 47; Evang. Thom. Lat., 5; Ps. Matth., 29.

[1703] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 49; Evang. Thom. Lat., 12; Ps. Matth., 38.

[1703] Evang. Inf. Arab., cap. 49; Evang. Thom. Lat., 12; Ps. Matth., 38.

[1704] Ps. Matth., caps. 35-36.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Matthew, chapters 35-36.

[1705] Ibid., cap. 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Id., ch. 29.

[1706] Ibid., cap. 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, cap. 40.

[1707] Later the same gospel (cap. 54) rather inconsistently represents Jesus as engaged in the study of law until his thirtieth year.

[1707] Later, the same gospel (cap. 54) inconsistently portrays Jesus as studying law until he turned thirty.

[1708] Evang. Inf. Arab., caps. 51-52.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Evang. Inf. Arab., chapters 51-52.

[1709] Eusebius states that he discovered these letters written in Syriac in the public records of Edessa. Hone says that it used to be a common practice among English people to have the epistle ascribed to Christ framed and place a picture of the Saviour before it.

[1709] Eusebius mentions that he found these letters written in Syriac in the public records of Edessa. Hone notes that it used to be common for English people to frame the letter attributed to Christ and place a picture of the Savior in front of it.

[1710] Gospel of Nicodemus, I, 1-2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gospel of Nicodemus, I, 1-2.

[1711] CE, Apocrypha, p. 611.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ CE, Apocrypha, p. 611.

[1712] Greek text in Tischendorf, Apocalypses Apocryph., pp. 161-7; English translation, The Ante-Nicene Fathers, VIII, 526-7.

[1712] Greek text in Tischendorf, Apocalypses Apocryph., pp. 161-7; English translation, The Ante-Nicene Fathers, VIII, 526-7.

[1713] Evang. Inf. Arab., 7-8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Evang. Inf. Arab., 7-8.

[1714] Cap. 19 (AN, I, 57).

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 19 (AN, I, 57).

[1715] Ante-Nicene Fathers, VIII, 494.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ante-Nicene Fathers, Vol. VIII, 494.

[1716] W. Anz, Zur Frage nach dem Ursprung des Gnostizisnus (1897), pp. 36-41. Lipsius et Bonnet, Acta apostolorum apocrypha, 1891-.

[1716] W. Anz, On the Question of the Origin of Gnosticism (1897), pp. 36-41. Lipsius et Bonnet, Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles, 1891-.

[1717] Mâle (1913), 299. For the text of this apocryphal work see Migne, Dictionnaire des Apocryphes, II, 759, et seq., or more recently, Bonnet, Acta apostolorum apocrypha, 1898, II, 151-216.

[1717] Mâle (1913), 299. For the text of this apocryphal work, check Migne, Dictionnaire des Apocryphes, II, 759, et seq., or more recently, Bonnet, Acta apostolorum apocrypha, 1898, II, 151-216.

[1718] Mâle (1913), 300. But one would think that they must needs be Byzantine alchemists, if the legend did not reach the west until the sixteenth century.

[1718] Male (1913), 300. But one would think they must be Byzantine alchemists if the legend didn't reach the west until the sixteenth century.

[1719] HL, XV, 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ HL, XV, 42.

When the gems, all smashed to pieces,
He had mended, then their prices
To the poor he handed;
Quite exhaustless was his treasure
Who from sticks made gold at pleasure,
Gems from stones commanded.

[1720] René Basset, Les apocryphes Éthiopiens, Paris, 1893-1894, vol. iv.

[1720] René Basset, The Ethiopian Apocrypha, Paris, 1893-1894, vol. iv.

[1721] See Migne, PG, X (1857), for the old Latin version; the Greek text is extant only in fragments; the tradition, going back to Jerome, that there was a Syriac original is unfounded; the work is first cited by Cyril.

[1721] See Migne, PG, X (1857), for the old Latin version; the Greek text exists only in fragments; the tradition, dating back to Jerome, that there was a Syriac original is not supported; the work is first mentioned by Cyril.

[1722] The Ethiopic version, made from the Greek between the fifth and seventh centuries, is translated by Basset (1894), vol. iii; and was printed before him by Dillmann, Ascensio Isaiae aethiopice et latine, Leipzig, 1877, and by Laurence, Ascensio Isaiae vatis, opusculum pseudepigraphus, Oxford, 1819. See also R. H. Charles, Ascension of Isaiah, 1900; reprinted 1917 in Oesterley and Box, Translations of Early Documents, Series I, vol. 7.

[1722] The Ethiopic version, created from the Greek between the fifth and seventh centuries, was translated by Basset (1894), vol. iii; and was published earlier by Dillmann, Ascensio Isaiae aethiopice et latine, Leipzig, 1877, and by Laurence, Ascensio Isaiae vatis, opusculum pseudepigraphus, Oxford, 1819. See also R. H. Charles, Ascension of Isaiah, 1900; reprinted 1917 in Oesterley and Box, Translations of Early Documents, Series I, vol. 7.

[1723] The fragments of the Book of Baruch by Justin, preserved in the Philosophumena of Hippolytus, are from an entirely different Gnostic work.

[1723] The pieces of the Book of Baruch by Justin, kept in the Philosophumena of Hippolytus, come from a completely different Gnostic work.

[1724] R. Basset, Les apocryphes Éthiopiens, Paris, 1893-1894, vol. i, Le Livre de Baruch et la légende de Jérémie.

[1724] R. Basset, The Ethiopian Apocrypha, Paris, 1893-1894, vol. i, The Book of Baruch and the Legend of Jeremiah.

[1725] Text of The Recognitions in Migne, PG, I; of The Homilies in PG, II, or P. de Lagarde, Clementina, 1865. E. C. Richardson had an edition of The Recognitions in preparation in 1893, when a list of some seventy MSS communicated by him was published in A. Harnack’s Gesch. d. altchr. Lit., I, 229-30, but it has not yet appeared. In quoting The Recognitions I often avail myself of the language of the English translation in the Ante-Nicene Fathers.

[1725] Text of The Recognitions in Migne, PG, I; of The Homilies in PG, II, or P. de Lagarde, Clementina, 1865. E. C. Richardson was working on an edition of The Recognitions in 1893, when a list of about seventy manuscripts he shared was published in A. Harnack’s Gesch. d. altchr. Lit., I, 229-30, but it has not yet been released. When quoting The Recognitions, I often use the wording from the English translation in the Ante-Nicene Fathers.

Since A. Hilgenfeld, Die klement. Rekogn. u. Homilien, 1848, the Pseudo-Clementines have provided a much frequented field of research and controversy, of which the articles in CE, EB, and Realencyklopädie (1913), XXIII, 312-6, provide fairly recent summaries from varying ecclesiastical standpoints. For bibliography see pp. 4-5 in the recent monograph of W. Heintze, Der Klemensroman und seine griechischen Quellen, 1914, in TU, XL, 2. In the same series, TU, XXV, 4, H. Waitz, Die Pseudo-Klementinen, 1904.

Since A. Hilgenfeld, Die klement. Rekogn. u. Homilien, 1848, the Pseudo-Clementines have been a popular area of research and debate, with articles in CE, EB, and Realencyklopädie (1913), XXIII, 312-6 providing fairly recent overviews from different church perspectives. For bibliographical references, see pp. 4-5 in the recent monograph by W. Heintze, Der Klemensroman und seine griechischen Quellen, 1914, in TU, XL, 2. In the same series, TU, XXV, 4, H. Waitz, Die Pseudo-Klementinen, 1904.

Concerning Simon Magus may be mentioned: H. Schlurick, De Simonis Magi fatis Romanis; A. Hilgenfeld, Der Magier Simon, in Zeitschr. f. wiss. Theol., XII (1869), 353 ff.; G. Frommberger, De Simone Mago, Pars I, De origine Pseudo-Clementinorum, Diss. inaug., Warsaw, 1866; G. R. S. Mead (Fellow of the Theosophical Society), Simon Magus, 1892; H. Waitz, Simon Magus in d. altchr. Lit., in Zeitschr. f. d. neutest. Wiss., V (1904), 121-43.

Concerning Simon Magus, the following can be mentioned: H. Schlurick, De Simonis Magi fatis Romanis; A. Hilgenfeld, Der Magier Simon, in Zeitschr. f. wiss. Theol., XII (1869), 353 ff.; G. Frommberger, De Simone Mago, Pars I, De origine Pseudo-Clementinorum, Diss. inaug., Warsaw, 1866; G. R. S. Mead (Fellow of the Theosophical Society), Simon Magus, 1892; H. Waitz, Simon Magus in d. altchr. Lit., in Zeitschr. f. d. neutest. Wiss., V (1904), 121-43.

[1726] BN, Greek, 930; Ottobon, 443.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ BN, Greek, 930; Ottobon, 443.

[1727] Isidore, De natura rerum, caps. xxxi, xxxvi, xxxix-xli (PL, 83, 1003-12).

[1727] Isidore, On the Nature of Things, caps. xxxi, xxxvi, xxxix-xli (PL, 83, 1003-12).

[1728] PL, 83, 1003, note, “Sunt haec lib. VIII Recognitionum sed apparet Isidorum alia interpretatione usum ac dubitare posse an ea quae circumfertur Rufini sit.”

[1728] PL, 83, 1003, note, “These are from book VIII of the Recognitions, but it seems that Isidore used a different interpretation and may question whether what is being circulated belongs to Rufinus.”

[1729] See CU, Trinity 1041, 14th century, fols. 7-105, “Inc. prologus in librum quem moderni itinerarium beati Petri vocant.”

[1729] See CU, Trinity 1041, 14th century, fols. 7-105, “Inc. prologus in librum quem moderni itinerarium beati Petri vocant.”

[1730] Valois (1880), p. 204.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Valois (1880), p. 204.

[1731] PL, 59, 162, “Notitia librorum apocryphorum qui non recipiuntur.”

[1731] PL, 59, 162, “List of apocryphal books that are not accepted.”

[1732] Vincent of Beauvais, Speculum naturale, 1485, I, 14.

[1732] Vincent of Beauvais, Speculum naturale, 1485, I, 14.

[1733] PL, 176, 787-8, Erudit. Didasc., IV, 15.

[1733] PL, 176, 787-8, Erudit. Didasc., IV, 15.

[1734] “Itinerarium nomine Petri apostoli quod appellatur sancti Clementis libri octo apocryphum (or, apocryphi).”

[1734] “The Journey of Peter the Apostle, known as the eight apocryphal books of St. Clement.”

[1735] Speculum naturale, XXXII, 129, concerning the morality of the Seres.

[1735] Speculum naturale, XXXII, 129, about the ethics of the Seres.

[1736] Compare Recognitions, I, 27 (PG, I, 122) with Rabanus, Comment. in Genesim, I, 2 (PL, 107, 450).

[1736] Compare Recognitions, I, 27 (PG, I, 122) with Rabanus, Comment. in Genesim, I, 2 (PL, 107, 450).

[1737] Speculum naturale, I, 7. Peter is represented as saying, “When anyone has derived from divine Scripture a sound and firm rule of truth, it will not be absurd if to the assertion of true dogma he joins something from the education and liberal studies which he may have pursued from boyhood. Yet so that in all points he teaches what is true and shuns what is false and pretense.” This corresponds to the close of the 42nd chapter of the tenth book of The Recognitions.

[1737] Speculum naturale, I, 7. Peter says, "When someone has found a solid and reliable truth in divine Scripture, it’s not unreasonable for them to add insights from their education and liberal studies acquired since childhood. However, they must ensure that everything they teach is true and that they avoid falsehoods and deception." This aligns with the conclusion of the 42nd chapter of the tenth book of The Recognitions.

[1738] Since writing this I learn that Professor E. C. Richardson has examined most of the known MSS of The Recognitions and has found them all to be the version by Rufinus, except for a few additional chapters which someone has added in the French group of MSS,—chapters which Rufinus seems to have omitted because they were difficult to translate.

[1738] Since writing this, I’ve learned that Professor E. C. Richardson has examined most of the known manuscripts of The Recognitions and found them all to be the version by Rufinus, except for a few extra chapters someone added to the French group of manuscripts—chapters that Rufinus appears to have left out because they were hard to translate.

[1739] Heintze (1914), 23, however, argues that the conclusion of The Recognitions is dependent upon The Homilies.

[1739] Heintze (1914), 23, however, argues that the conclusion of The Recognitions is based on The Homilies.

[1740] Professor E. C. Richardson, after kindly reading this chapter in manuscript, writes me (Sept. 5, 1921) that he doubts if this Syriac MS is correctly described as three books of The Recognitions and four books of The Homilies, and that he thinks it may represent an earlier form in the evolution than either of them. He writes further, “I have a strong notion that a study of Greek MSS of the Epitomes will reveal still more variant forms in Greek, and there are certainly other oriental compilations not yet brought into comparison with the Greek, Latin, and Syriac forms.”

[1740] Professor E. C. Richardson, after kindly reviewing this chapter in manuscript, writes to me (Sept. 5, 1921) that he questions whether this Syriac manuscript is accurately described as three books of The Recognitions and four books of The Homilies, and that he believes it might represent an earlier version in the development than either of them. He adds, “I strongly suspect that examining Greek manuscripts of the Epitomes will uncover even more variations in Greek, and there are definitely other Eastern compilations that haven't yet been compared with the Greek, Latin, and Syriac forms.”

[1741] In The Homilies it is a trip only from Alexandria to Caesarea that consumes this number of days.

[1741] In The Homilies, a journey from Alexandria to Caesarea takes this many days.

[1742] About 375 A.D. Epiphanius (Dindorf, II, 107-9) describes The Circuits in such a way that he might have either The Homilies or The Recognitions in mind. On the other hand, the Philocalia, composed about 358 by Basil and Gregory, cites a passage on astrology from the fourteenth book of The Circuits which is in the tenth book of The Recognitions and not in The Homilies at all.

[1742] Around 375 A.D., Epiphanius (Dindorf, II, 107-9) talks about The Circuits in a way that suggests he could be referring to either The Homilies or The Recognitions. However, the Philocalia, written around 358 by Basil and Gregory, quotes a passage about astrology from the fourteenth book of The Circuits, which actually appears in the tenth book of The Recognitions and isn't found in The Homilies at all.

[1743] Heintze (1914), p. 113.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Heintze (1914), p. 113.

[1744] Waitz (1904), pp. 151 and 243.

[1744] Waitz (1904), pp. 151 and 243.

[1745] See E. C. Richardson in Papers of the American Society of Church History, VI (1894).

[1745] See E. C. Richardson in Papers of the American Society of Church History, VI (1894).

[1746] Neither Philostratus nor Apollonius of Tyana is mentioned, however, in the index of W. Heintze’s Der Klemensroman und seine griechischen Quellen (1914), 144 pp.

[1746] Neither Philostratus nor Apollonius of Tyana is mentioned, however, in the index of W. Heintze’s Der Klemensroman und seine griechischen Quellen (1914), 144 pp.

[1747] Recogs., VII, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., VII, 6.

[1748] Recogs., I, 29; not mentioned in the corresponding chapter of The Homilies, VIII, 15.

[1748] Recogs., I, 29; not mentioned in the corresponding chapter of The Homilies, VIII, 15.

[1749] Recogs., IX, 19-29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., IX, 19-29.

[1750] Recogs., VII, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Connections., VII, 12.

[1751] Recogs., X, 15, et seq.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., X, 15, and following.

[1752] Recogs., I, 8; Homilies, I, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions, I, 8; Homilies, I, 10.

[1753] Extraordinary, of course, only in that single animals instead of angels, as in the Enoch literature, are set over birds, beasts, serpents, etc.

[1753] Extraordinary, of course, only in that individual animals instead of angels, as in the Enoch literature, are assigned to birds, beasts, serpents, etc.

[1754] Recogs., I, 27 and 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., I, 27 and 45.

[1755] Recogs., VI, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. VI, 8.

[1756] Recogs., VIII, 9, 20-22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions., VIII, 9, 20-22.

[1757] Recogs., VIII, 15-17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. VIII, 15-17.

[1758] Recogs., VIII, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. VIII, 21.

[1759] Recogs., VIII, 25-32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., VIII, 25-32.

[1760] On the other hand, in the apocryphal Epistle of Barnabas, IX, 9, it is stated that the weasel conceives with its mouth and hence typifies persons with unclean mouths.

[1760] On the other hand, in the apocryphal Epistle of Barnabas, IX, 9, it says that the weasel conceives with its mouth and therefore symbolizes people with unclean mouths.

[1761] Recogs., II, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., II, 7.

[1762] Recogs., VIII, 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. VIII, 31.

[1763] Recogs., VIII, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions., VIII, 30.

[1764] Recogs., VIII, 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. VIII, 42.

[1765] Recogs., VIII, 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. VIII, 34.

[1766] Recogs., VIII, 44.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Volume VIII, Page 44.

[1767] Recogs., VIII, 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions., VIII, 45.

[1768] Recogs., VIII, 46.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions., VIII, 46.

[1769] Recogs., VIII, 47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. VIII, 47.

[1770] Recogs., V, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., V, 27.

[1771] Recogs., I, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., me, 28.

[1772] Recogs., VIII, 57, “frater meus Clemens tibi diligentius respondebit qui plenius scientiam mathesis attigit;” IX, 18, “quoniam quidem scientia mihi mathesis nota est.”

[1772] Recogs., VIII, 57, “my brother Clemens will respond to you more thoroughly since he has a deeper understanding of mathematics;” IX, 18, “for indeed, I am familiar with the knowledge of mathematics.”

[1773] Recogs., X, 11-12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions., X, 11-12.

[1774] Recogs., IX, 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., IX, 18.

[1775] Recogs., VIII, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. VIII, No. 2.

[1776] Recogs., I, 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Me, 32.

[1777] Recogs., I, 21, 43, 72.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., I, 21, 43, 72.

[1778] Recogs., IV, 35.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. IV, 35.

[1779] Irenaeus, I, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Irenaeus, Book I, Chapter 3.

[1780] Recogs., III, 68.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. III, 68.

[1781] Recogs., VIII, 28, “qui est parvus in alio mundus.”

[1781] Recogs., VIII, 28, “who is small in another world.”

[1782] Recogs., VIII, 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions., VIII, 45.

[1783] Recogs., X, 12. In Homilies, XIV, 5, the existence of astrological medicine is implied when Peter promises to cure by prayer to God any bodily ill, even “if it is utterly incurable and entirely beyond the range of the medical profession—a case, indeed, which not even the astrologers profess to cure.”

[1783] Recogs., X, 12. In Homilies, XIV, 5, the idea of astrological medicine is suggested when Peter vows to heal any physical ailment through prayer to God, even “if it is completely incurable and far beyond what the medical professionals can treat—a situation that even the astrologers claim they can't resolve.”

[1784] Recogs., VIII, 2. In The Homilies, however, Peter argues that, even if Genesis prevails, which he does not admit, still he can “worship Him who is also Lord of the stars,” and that the doctrine of genesis is far more destructive to polytheism and pagan worship.

[1784] Recogs., VIII, 2. In The Homilies, however, Peter argues that even if Genesis is accepted, which he does not agree with, he can still “worship Him who is also Lord of the stars,” and that the concept of genesis is much more harmful to polytheism and pagan worship.

[1785] Recogs., IX, 16-17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., IX, 16-17.

[1786] Recogs., IX, 6 and 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognition., IX, 6 and 12.

[1787] Recogs., IX, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., IX, 30.

[1788] Recogs., X, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., X, 11.

[1789] Recogs., X, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., X, 12.

[1790] Recogs., IX, 32-7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., IX, 32-7.

[1791] Recogs., IX, 19, and VIII, 48.

[1791] Recogs., IX, 19, and VIII, 48.

[1792] Recogs., X, 66.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., X, 66.

[1793] Recogs., II, 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions., II, 42.

[1794] Recogs., IV, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions., IV, 7.

[1795] Recogs., IX, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., IX, 38.

[1796] Recogs., IX, 6 and 12; IV, 21; V, 20 and 31.

[1796] Recogs., IX, 6 and 12; IV, 21; V, 20 and 31.

[1797] Recogs., II, 71; IV, 16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., II, 71; IV, 16.

[1798] Recogs., IV, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. IV, 30.

[1799] Recogs., IX, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., IX, 9.

[1800] Recogs., IV, 32-33.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., IV, 32-33.

[1801] Recogs., IV, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. IV, 21.

[1802] Recogs., IV, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., IV, 26.

[1803] Reminding one of Benjamin Franklin’s more successful attempt to “snatch the thunderbolt from heaven.”

[1803] Reminding someone of Benjamin Franklin's more successful attempt to “grab the lightning bolt from the sky.”

[1804] Recogs., IV, 27, and I, 30.

[1804] Recogs., IV, 27, and I, 30.

[1805] Recogs., IV, 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., IV, 29.

[1806] Dindorf, I, 282, 286-7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Dindorf, I, 282, 286-7.

[1807] Recogs., X, 55; III, 64.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., X, 55; III, 64.

[1808] Recogs., I, 70.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., I, 70.

[1809] Recogs., I, 42 and 58; III, 12, 47, and 73; X, 54.

[1809] Recogs., I, 42 and 58; III, 12, 47, and 73; X, 54.

[1810] Recogs., I, 72.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., I, 72.

[1811] Recogs., X, 22 and 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., X, 22 & 25.

[1812] But by no means always in early Christian writings: thus Clement of Alexandria (c150-c220) in the Stromata, II, 1, asserts that the Greeks eulogize “astrology and mathematics and magic and sorcery” as the highest sciences.

[1812] But not always in early Christian writings: for example, Clement of Alexandria (around 150-220) in the Stromata, II, 1, claims that the Greeks praise “astrology and mathematics and magic and sorcery” as the foremost sciences.

[1813] In contrast to Lucian’s Menippus or Necromancy, in which the Cynic philosopher Menippus resorts to a Magus at Babylon in order to gain entrance to the lower world and question Teiresias.

[1813] Unlike Lucian’s Menippus or Necromancy, where the Cynic philosopher Menippus goes to a Magus in Babylon to enter the underworld and interrogate Teiresias.

Necromancy is given as a proof of the immortality of the soul in Justin’s First Apology, cap. 18, where we read, “For let even necromancy, and the divinations you practise by means of immaculate children, and the evoking of departed human souls ... let these persuade you that even after death souls are in a state of sensation.”

Necromancy is presented as evidence of the soul's immortality in Justin’s First Apology, chapter 18, where it states, “So let necromancy, along with the divinations you perform using innocent children and the summoning of departed souls ... let these convince you that even after death, souls continue to feel and sense things.”

[1814] Recogs., I, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., I, 5.

[1815] Recogs., II, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. II, 9.

[1816] Recogs., II, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. II, 15.

[1817] Recogs., II, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recognitions., II, 6.

[1818] Recogs., III, 57.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., vol. III, p. 57.

[1819] Recogs., II, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. II, 11.

[1820] Recogs., II, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. II, No. 12.

[1821] Recogs., X, 53, et seq.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., X, 53, and following

[1822] Recogs., III, 57-60; X, 66.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., III, 57-60; X, 66.

[1823] Recogs., VIII, 53.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. VIII, 53.

[1824] Recogs., VIII, 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. VIII, 60.

[1825] Recogs., II, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. II, No. 5.

[1826] Recogs., II, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Volume II, Page 10.

[1827] Recogs., II, 16, and III, 49.

[1827] Recogs., II, 16, and III, 49.

[1828] Similarly, in a passage contained only in The Homilies, V, 5, Appion, recommending to Clement a love incantation which he had learned from an Egyptian who was well versed in magic, explains that demons obey the magician when invoked by the names of superior angels, who in their turn may be adjured by the name of God.

[1828] Similarly, in a section found only in The Homilies, V, 5, Appion suggests a love spell to Clement that he picked up from an Egyptian knowledgeable in magic. He explains that demons respond to the magician when called by the names of higher angels, who can, in turn, be called upon using the name of God.

[1829] Concerning this boy see Recogs., II, 13-15; III, 44-45;, Homilies, II, 25-30.

[1829] About this boy, check out Recogs., II, 13-15; III, 44-45;, Homilies, II, 25-30.

[1830] Recogs., II, 6; III, 13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., II, 6; III, 13.

[1831] Recogs., III, 73; X, 54.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. III, 73; Vol. X, 54.

[1832] Recogs., X, 58.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., X, 58.

[1833] Recogs., III, 63.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. III, Page 63.

[1834] Recogs., II, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. II, 7.

[1835] Recogs., II, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Recogs., Vol. II, 5.

[1836] Recogs., II, 9, “Multa etenim iam mihi experimenti causa consummata sunt.“

[1836] Recogs., II, 9, “I have already completed many experiments for my own sake.”

[1837] First Apology, caps. 26 and 56; Dialogue with Trypho, 120.

[1837] First Apology, caps. 26 and 56; Dialogue with Trypho, 120.

[1838] Adv. haer., I, 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Adv. haer., I, 23.

[1839] See above, chapter 15, p. 365.

[1839] See above, chapter 15, p. 365.

[1840] Tertullian, De anima, cap. 57, in PL, II, 794; De idolatria, cap. 9.

[1840] Tertullian, On the Soul, chap. 57, in PL, II, 794; On Idolatry, chap. 9.

[1841] Philosophumena, VI, 2-15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Philosophumena, VI, 2-15.

[1842] F. X. Funk, Didascalia et Constitutiones Apostolorum, 1905, I, 320-1.

[1842] F. X. Funk, Didascalia et Constitutiones Apostolorum, 1905, I, 320-1.

[1843] τὰ δὲ ἔθνη ἐξιστῶν μαγικῇ ἐμπειρίᾳ καὶ δαιμόνων ἐνεργείᾳ.

[1843] The nations are brought to life through magical experience and the power of demons.

[1844] “ ... in una die procedens vidi illum per aera volantem et ferebatur. Et subsistens dixi: In virtute sancti nominis Iesu excido virtutes tuas. Et sic ruens femur pedis sui fregit.”

[1844] “ ... one day I saw him flying through the air and being carried along. And stopping, I said: By the power of the holy name of Jesus, I cast out your powers. And thus, while falling, he broke his leg.”

[1845] Arnobius, Adversus gentes, II, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Arnobius, Against the Nations, II, 12.

[1846] Cyril, Cathechesis, VI, 15, in PG 33, 564.

[1846] Cyril, Cathechesis, VI, 15, in PG 33, 564.

[1847] Filastrii diversarum hereseon liber, cap. 23, ed. F. Marx, 1898, in CSEL; also in PL, vol. 12.

[1847] Filastrii of Various Heresies Book, chap. 23, ed. F. Marx, 1898, in CSEL; also in PL, vol. 12.

[1848] Sulpicius Severus, 363-420, Chron., II, 28, and Theodoret, c386-456, Haereticarum fabularum compendium, I, 1 (PG 83, 344) have nothing new to say.

[1848] Sulpicius Severus, 363-420, Chron., II, 28, and Theodoret, c386-456, Haereticarum fabularum compendium, I, 1 (PG 83, 344) have nothing new to say.

[1849] AN, VIII, 673-5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ AN, VIII, 673-5.

[1850] Ibid., 477-85; Greek text in Tischendorf, Acta Apostolorum Apocrypha, 1851, pp. 1-39. The Greek scholar, Constantine Lascaris, translated part of the work into Latin in 1490.

[1850] Ibid., 477-85; Greek text in Tischendorf, Acta Apostolorum Apocrypha, 1851, pp. 1-39. The Greek scholar, Constantine Lascaris, translated part of the work into Latin in 1490.

[1851] Mead (1892), p. 37, notes that Dr. Salmon (article Simon Magus in Dict. Chris. Biog. IV, 686) “connects this with the story, told by Suetonius and Dio Chrysostom, that Nero caused a wooden theater to be erected in the Campus, and that a gymnast who tried to play the part of Icarus fell so near the emperor as to bespatter him with blood.” Hegesippus (De bello judaico, III, 2), Abdias (Hist. 1), and Maximus Taurinensis (Patr. VI, Synodi ad Imp. Const. Act. 18) compare Simon’s flight with that of Icarus.

[1851] Mead (1892), p. 37, notes that Dr. Salmon (article Simon Magus in Dict. Chris. Biog. IV, 686) “links this to the story told by Suetonius and Dio Chrysostom that Nero had a wooden theater built in the Campus, and that a gymnast trying to portray Icarus fell so close to the emperor that he splattered him with blood.” Hegesippus (De bello judaico, III, 2), Abdias (Hist. 1), and Maximus Taurinensis (Patr. VI, Synodi ad Imp. Const. Act. 18) compare Simon’s escape to that of Icarus.

[1852] Tischendorf (1851), p. xix.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tischendorf (1851), p. xix.

[1853] “De mirificis rebus et actibus beatorum Petri et Pauli, et de magicis artibus Simonis:” Fabricius, Cod. apocr., III, 632; Florentinus, Martyrologium Hieronymi, 103.

[1853] “About the amazing things and deeds of the blessed Peter and Paul, and the magical arts of Simon:” Fabricius, Cod. apocr., III, 632; Florentinus, Martyrologium Hieronymi, 103.

[1854] A slightly different version of the dog incident is found in the Acts of Nereus and Achilles (AS, May III, 9).

[1854] A somewhat different version of the dog incident can be found in the Acts of Nereus and Achilles (AS, May III, 9).

[1855] Hegesippus, III, 2 ed. C. F. Weber and J. Caesar, Marburg, 1864, “et statim in voce Petri implicatis remigiis alarum quas sumserat corruit, nec exanimatus est, sed fracto debilitatus crure Ariciam concessit atque ibi mortuus est.” I earnestly recommend this passage to those who delight in finding ancient precursors of modern inventions as an example of remarkable insight into the effect of air-waves upon delicate mechanisms.

[1855] Hegesippus, III, 2 ed. C. F. Weber and J. Caesar, Marburg, 1864, “and immediately, with Peter's voice entangled in the strokes of the wings he had taken, he fell; not lifeless, but weakened by a broken leg, he retreated to Aricia and died there.” I strongly recommend this passage to those who enjoy discovering ancient forerunners of modern inventions as an example of remarkable insight into how air-waves affect delicate mechanisms.

[1856] ed. Fabricius, Cod. apocr., I, 411; AS, June V, 424.

[1856] ed. Fabricius, Cod. apocr., I, 411; AS, June 5, 424.

[1857] Biblioth. Patrum, Cologne, 1618, I, 70.

[1857] Biblioth. Patrum, Cologne, 1618, I, 70.

[1858] Printed PL, 39, 2121-2, among the works of Augustine, Sermones Supposititi, CCII. The greater number of MSS assign it to Maximus.

[1858] Printed PL, 39, 2121-2, among the works of Augustine, Sermones Supposititi, CCII. Most of the manuscripts attribute it to Maximus.

[1859] Mâle, Religious Art in France, 1913, p. 297, notes 3 and 4; p. 298, note 1.

[1859] Mâle, Religious Art in France, 1913, p. 297, notes 3 and 4; p. 298, note 1.

[1860] The two representations are essentially identical. Simon falls head first, and the accompanying legend reads, “Hic praecepto Petri oratione Pauli Simon Magus cecidit in terram,”—“Here at Peter’s command and Paul’s prayer Simon Magus falls to earth.”

[1860] The two depictions are basically the same. Simon falls headfirst, and the caption says, “Hic praecepto Petri oratione Pauli Simon Magus cecidit in terram,”—“Here at Peter’s command and Paul’s prayer, Simon Magus falls to the ground.”

[1861] Greek and Latin text in parallel columns in AS, Sept. VII (1867), pp. 204ff. For an account of previous editions see Ibid., p. 182. Bishop John Fell published a Latin text from three Oxford MSS. In Digby 30, 15th century, fol. 29-, which I have examined, the wording differed considerably from that of the Latin text in AS. The brief Martyrium of Cyprian and Justina follows in the same volume of AS at pp. 224-6. Sahidische Bruchstücke der Legende von Cyprian von Antiochen, ed. O. v. Lamm, 1899, Ethiopic, Greek, and German, in Petrograd Acad. Scient. Imper. Mémoires, VIII série, Cl. hist. philol., IV, 6. Πρᾶξις τῶν ἁγίων μαρτύρων Κυπριανοῦ καὶ Ἰουστίνης, with an Arabic version, ed. Margaret D. Gibson, 1901, in Studia Sinaitica, No. 8.

[1861] Greek and Latin text in parallel columns in AS, Sept. VII (1867), pp. 204ff. For a summary of earlier editions, see Ibid., p. 182. Bishop John Fell published a Latin text based on three Oxford manuscripts. In Digby 30, 15th century, fol. 29-, which I have reviewed, the wording was quite different from the Latin text in AS. The short Martyrium of Cyprian and Justina is included in the same volume of AS on pp. 224-6. Sahidische Bruchstücke der Legende von Cyprian von Antiochen, ed. O. v. Lamm, 1899, contains Ethiopic, Greek, and German in Petrograd Acad. Scient. Imper. Mémoires, VIII série, Cl. hist. philol., IV, 6. Πρᾶξις τῶν ἁγίων μαρτύρων Κυπριανοῦ καὶ Ἰουστίνης, with an Arabic version, ed. Margaret D. Gibson, 1901, in Studia Sinaitica, No. 8.

[1862] Ibid., p. 180, “ipsa S. Cypriana nomine vulgata Confessio quam ante Constantini aetatem scriptam esse critici plurimi etiam rigidiores fatentur.”

[1862] Ibid., p. 180, “the well-known Confession of St. Cyprian, which many critics, even the strictest ones, admit was written before the time of Constantine.”

[1863] Ibid., p. 205, “et initiatus sum sonis sermonum ac strepitum narrationibus.” L. Preller in Philologus, I (1846), 349ff., and A. B. Cook, Zeus, 110-1, suggest that these rites on Mount Olympus were Orphic.

[1863] Ibid., p. 205, “and I was initiated into the sounds of words and the noise of narratives.” L. Preller in Philologus, I (1846), 349ff., and A. B. Cook, Zeus, 110-1, suggest that these rituals on Mount Olympus were Orphic.

[1864] “Et aliorum insidiantium decipientium permiscentium....”

[1864] “And of those conspiring and deceiving...”.

[1865] Shelley, it may be recalled, in 1822 translated some scenes, published in 1824, from Calderón’s Magico Prodigioso, in which Cyprian, Justina, and the demon figure.

[1865] Shelley, as we may remember, translated some scenes in 1822, published in 1824, from Calderón’s Magico Prodigioso, featuring Cyprian, Justina, and the demon.

[1866] Bouchier, Syria as a Roman Province, p. 237.

[1866] Bouchier, Syria as a Roman Province, p. 237.

[1867] Bouchier, Spain Under the Roman Empire, p. 123, citing AS, July 19.

[1867] Bouchier, Spain Under the Roman Empire, p. 123, citing AS, July 19.

[1868] Epiphanius, Panarion, ed. Dindorf, II, 97-104; ed. Petavius, 131A-137C.

[1868] Epiphanius, Panarion, ed. Dindorf, II, 97-104; ed. Petavius, 131A-137C.

[1869] Idem. The attempt to bewitch the furnaces reminds one of the fourteenth Homeric epigram, in which the bard threatens to curse the potters’ furnaces if they do not pay him for his song, and to summon “the destroyers of furnaces,”—Σύντριβ’ ὁμῶς Σμάραγόν τε καὶ Ἄσβετον ἠδὲ Σαβάκτην,—words usually interpreted as names for mischievous Pucks and brawling goblins who smash pottery. But the two middle names suggest the stones, smaragdus or emerald, and asbestos. The poet also invokes “Circe of many drugs” to cast injurious spells, and appeals to Chiron to complete the work of destruction. He further prays that the face of any potter who peers into the furnace may be burned. This epigram is probably of late date. See A. Abel, Homeri Hymni, Epigrammata, Batrachomyomachia, Lipsiae, 1886, pp. 123-4.

[1869] Same. The attempt to enchant the furnaces reminds one of the fourteenth Homeric epigram, where the bard threatens to curse the potters’ furnaces if they don’t pay him for his song and to summon “the destroyers of furnaces,”—Σύντριβ’ ὁμῶς Σμάραγόν τε καὶ Ἄσβετον ἠδὲ Σαβάκτην,—words usually taken to refer to mischievous spirits and rowdy goblins who break pottery. But the two middle names imply the stones, smaragdus or emerald, and asbestos. The poet also calls upon “Circe of many drugs” to cast hurtful spells and asks Chiron to finish the work of destruction. He further prays that any potter who looks into the furnace will have his face burned. This epigram is likely from a later period. See A. Abel, Homeri Hymni, Epigrammata, Batrachomyomachia, Lipsiae, 1886, pp. 123-4.

[1870] Mâle, Religious Art in France, 1913, pp. 304-6.

[1870] Mâle, Religious Art in France, 1913, pp. 304-6.

[1871] Mâle (1913), p. 306.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Male (1913), p. 306.

[1872] Ibid., p. 307.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 307.

[1873] Greek text in Migne PG, Vol. XI. English translation in the Ante-Nicene Fathers, of which I generally make use in quotations from the work. On the MSS of the Against Celsus see Paul Koetschau, Die Textüberlieferung der Bücher des Origenes gegen Celsus in den Handschriften dieses Werkes und der Philokalia. Prolegomena zu einer kritischen Ausgabe, 1889, 157 pp., (TU, VI, 1).

[1873] Greek text in Migne PG, Vol. XI. English translation in the Ante-Nicene Fathers, which I usually refer to in quotations from the work. For the manuscripts of the Against Celsus, see Paul Koetschau, Die Textüberlieferung der Bücher des Origenes gegen Celsus in den Handschriften dieses Werkes und der Philokalia. Prolegomena zu einer kritischen Ausgabe, 1889, 157 pp., (TU, VI, 1).

[1874] I, 71; also II, 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 71; also II, 32.

[1875] I, 38; also VIII, 9; II, 48.

[1875] I, 38; also VIII, 9; II, 48.

[1876] I, 68; III, 52.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 68; III, 52.

[1877] II, 49.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 49.

[1878] VII, 36.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 36.

[1879] I, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 6.

[1880] VI, 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 40.

[1881] V, 51.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 51.

[1882] I, 26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 26.

[1883] IV, 33.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 33.

[1884] V, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 6.

[1885] V, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Volume 9.

[1886] VII, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 9.

[1887] VII, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 11.

[1888] VII, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 3.

[1889] III, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 1.

[1890] III, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 5.

[1891] III, 46; IV, 51.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 46; IV, 51.

[1892] I, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 28.

[1893] I, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 38.

[1894] I, 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 60.

[1895] I, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 38 years old.

[1896] II, 49.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 49.

[1897] II, 51.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 51.

[1898] I, 68.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 68.

[1899] VII, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 25.

[1900] V, 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Version 42.

[1901] I, 68.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 68.

[1902] VI, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 41.

[1903] III, 52.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 52.

[1904] See cap. 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See chapter 21.

[1905] Kühn, XIX, 48 (de libris propriis). Μετροδώρου ἐπιστολὴ πρὸς Κέλσον Ἐπικούρειον.

[1905] Kühn, XIX, 48 (de libris propriis). Letter from Metrodorus to Celsus Epicurean.

[1906] VI, 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 39.

[1907] IV, 86.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 86.

[1908] VII, 67.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 67.

[1909] VI, 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 39.

[1910] VI, 40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 40.

[1911] VII, 3 and 35.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 3 and 35.

[1912] Ps. XCVI, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ps. XCVI, 5.

[1913] VII, 69.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 69.

[1914] V, 42.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Version 42.

[1915] II, 51. See also V, 38; VI, 45; VII, 69; VIII, 59; I, 60.

[1915] II, 51. See also V, 38; VI, 45; VII, 69; VIII, 59; I, 60.

[1916] See VII, 67, “demons ... and their several operations, whether led on to them by the conjurations of those who are skilled in the art, or urged on by their own inclinations....”

[1916] See VII, 67, “demons ... and their various activities, whether directed by the spells of those who are adept in the craft, or driven by their own desires....”

Also VII, 5, “those spirits that are attached for entire ages, as I may say, to particular dwellings and places, whether by a sort of magical force or by their own natural inclinations.”

Also VII, 5, “those spirits that are bound for long periods, as I might say, to specific homes and locations, whether by some kind of magical force or by their natural tendencies.”

Also VII, 64, “ ... the demons choose certain forms and places, whether because they are detained there by virtue of certain charms, or because for some other possible reason they have selected those haunts....”

Also VII, 64, “ ... the demons choose specific forms and locations, either because they are held there by certain spells, or for some other possible reason they have picked those spots....”

[1917] VII, 4. ὡς ἐπίπαν γὰρ ἰδιῶται τὸ τοιοῦτον πράττουσι.

[1917] VII, 4. For in general, ordinary people do that sort of thing.

[1918] V, 38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 38.

[1919] VIII, 61.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 61.

[1920] VI, 80.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 80.

[1921] I, 58.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 58.

[1922] I, 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 60.

[1923] I, 58. The Magi had been confused with the Chaldeans several centuries before by Ctesias in his Persica, cap. 15; see D. F. Münter, Der Stern der Weisen: Untersuchungen über das Geburtsjahr Christi, Kopenhagen (1827), p. 14.

[1923] I, 58. The Magi had been mixed up with the Chaldeans a few centuries earlier by Ctesias in his Persica, cap. 15; see D. F. Münter, Der Stern der Weisen: Untersuchungen über das Geburtsjahr Christi, Copenhagen (1827), p. 14.

[1924] Balaam himself was something of an astrologer according to Münter, Der Stern der Weisen, 1827, p. 31. “Die sieben Altäre die der moabitische Seher Bileam an verschiedenen Orten errichtete (IV B. Mose, XXIII) waren gewiss den sieben Planetfürsten gewidmet.”

[1924] Balaam himself was somewhat of an astrologer according to Münter, Der Stern der Weisen, 1827, p. 31. “The seven altars that the Moabite seer Balaam set up in various places (Numbers 23) were certainly dedicated to the seven planetary princes.”

[1925] Numbers, XXIV, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Numbers, 24, 17.

[1926] Similarly an English version (in an Oxford MS of the early 15th century, Laud Misc., 658) of The History of the Three Kings of Cologne, or medieval account of the translation of the relics of the Magi, in forty-one chapters with a preface, opens its first chapter with the words, “The mater of these three worshipful and blissid kingis token the begynnyng of the prophecye of Balaam.”

[1926] Similarly, an English version (in an Oxford manuscript from the early 15th century, Laud Misc., 658) of The History of the Three Kings of Cologne, or medieval account of the translation of the relics of the Magi, in forty-one chapters with a preface, starts its first chapter with the words, “The matter of these three noble and blessed kings marks the beginning of the prophecy of Balaam.”

[1927] In Numeros Homilia XIII, in Migne, PG, XII, 675.

[1927] In Numeros Homilia XIII, in Migne, PG, XII, 675.

[1928] In Numeros Homilia XV, col. 689.

[1928] In Numbers Homily XV, col. 689.

[1929] In Genesim Homilia XIV, 3, in PG, XII, 238.

[1929] In Genesim Homilia XIV, 3, in PG, XII, 238.

[1930] Origenis in Numeros Homiliae, Prologus Rufini Interpretis ad Ursacium. Migne, PG, XII, 583-86.

[1930] Homilies on the Origins in Numbers, Prologue of Rufinus the Interpreter to Ursacius. Migne, PG, XII, 583-86.

[1931] Origenis in Numeros Homilia XIII, Migne, PG, XII, 670-677. In at least one medieval manuscript we find the homily upon Balaam preserved separately, BN 13350, 12th century, fol. 92v, et omeliae de Balaham et Balach.

[1931] Origenis in Numeros Homilia XIII, Migne, PG, XII, 670-677. In at least one medieval manuscript, we find the homily on Balaam kept separately, BN 13350, 12th century, fol. 92v, and homilies about Balaham and Balach.

[1932] W. H. Bennett, Balaam, in EB, 11th edition.

[1932] W. H. Bennett, Balaam, in EB, 11th edition.

[1933] One cannot help wondering whether Pharaoh’s magicians lost their rods for good as a result of this manœuvre, but it is a point upon which the Scriptural narrative fails to enlighten us.

[1933] One can't help but wonder if Pharaoh’s magicians permanently lost their rods due to this maneuver, but that's a detail the biblical story doesn’t clarify.

[1934] II, 15-16.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 15-16.

[1935] Antiq., IV, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Antiq., Vol. IV, p. 6.

[1936] Johannis Hildeshemensis, Liber de trium regum translatione, 1478, cap. 2.

[1936] Johannis Hildeshemensis, Book on the Translation of the Three Kings, 1478, cap. 2.

[1937] E. W. Hengstenberg, Die Geschichte Bileams und seine Weissagungen, Berlin, 1842. Hengstenberg tried to take middle ground between Philo Judaeus, Ambrose, Augustine, Gregory of Nyssa, Theodoret, and others who regarded Balaam as a godless false prophet and magician, and the contrary opinion of Tertullian, Jerome, and some moderns who hold that Balaam was originally a devout man and true prophet who fell through his covetousness.

[1937] E. W. Hengstenberg, The History of Balaam and His Prophecies, Berlin, 1842. Hengstenberg tried to find a balanced view between Philo Judaeus, Ambrose, Augustine, Gregory of Nyssa, Theodoret, and others who saw Balaam as a faithless false prophet and magician, and the opposing perspective of Tertullian, Jerome, and some contemporary thinkers who believe that Balaam was initially a sincere and true prophet who fell from grace due to his greed.

[1938] “Et ideo quasi expertus in talibus in opinione erat omnibus qui erant in Oriente ... Certus ergo Balach de hoc et frequenter expertus.”

[1938] “And so, as someone experienced in these matters, he was regarded by everyone in the East... Therefore, Balach was certain about this and had frequently encountered it.”

[1939] In Homily XIV.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ In Homily 14.

[1940] Migne, PG, XII, 1011-28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PG, XII, 1011-28.

[1941] J. G. Frazer (1918), II, 522, note, however, says of I. Samuel, XXVIII, 12: “It seems that we must read, ‘And when the woman saw Saul,’ with six manuscripts of the Septuagint and some modern critics, instead of, ‘And when the woman saw Samuel.’”

[1941] J. G. Frazer (1918), II, 522, note, however, says of I. Samuel, XXVIII, 12: “It seems that we must read, ‘And when the woman saw Saul,’ with six manuscripts of the Septuagint and some modern critics, instead of, ‘And when the woman saw Samuel.’”

[1942] VI, 41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 41.

[1943] V, 48.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 48.

[1944] I, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 30.

[1945] II, 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 34.

[1946] IV, 33, and I, 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 33, and I, 22.

[1947] IV, 33. On the use of mystic names of God among the Jews of this period and “the new and greatly developed angelology that flourished at that time in Egypt and Palestine” see the Introduction to M. Gaster’s edition of The Sword of Moses, 1896,—a book of magic found in a 13-14th century Hebrew MS, but which is mentioned in the 11th century and which he would trace back to ancient times.

[1947] IV, 33. For information on the use of mystical names of God among Jews during this time and "the new and highly developed angelology that thrived in Egypt and Palestine," refer to the Introduction of M. Gaster’s edition of The Sword of Moses, 1896—a book of magic discovered in a 13th-14th century Hebrew manuscript, although it is referenced in the 11th century, which he believes can be traced back to ancient times.

[1948] I, 6. It also, however, suggests the efficacy ascribed by the Mandaeans to the repetition of passages from their sacred books.

[1948] I, 6. It also, however, suggests the effectiveness attributed by the Mandaeans to reciting verses from their holy texts.

[1949] II, 49.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 49.

[1950] I, 25; V, 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 25; V, 45.

[1951] V, 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 45.

[1952] I, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 24.

[1953] IV, 33; I, 22, etc.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 33; I, 22, etc.

[1954] In Math. XXVI, 23 (Migne, PG, XIII, 1757).

[1954] In Math. XXVI, 23 (Migne, PG, XIII, 1757).

[1955] See p. 366 in Chapter XV on Gnosticism.

[1955] See p. 366 in Chapter XV on Gnosticism.

[1956] V, 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Version 25.

[1957] VIII, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 28.

[1958] VIII, 58.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 58.

[1959] VIII, 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 60.

[1960] VIII, 63.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 63.

[1961] VII, 68.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 68.

[1962] VII, 69.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 69.

[1963] VIII, 59.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 59.

[1964] V, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 28.

[1965] V, 29; see Deut. xxxii, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 29; see Deut. 32, 8.

[1966] V, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 30.

[1967] V, 32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 32.

[1968] VIII, 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 31.

[1969] Migne, PG, XII, 680.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PG, XII, 680.

[1970] III, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 12.

[1971] I, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 8.

[1972] V, 54; see Book of Enoch, XL, 9.

[1972] V, 54; see Book of Enoch, XL, 9.

[1973] Matthew, XVIII, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Matthew 18:10.

[1974] VII, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 5.

[1975] V, 6-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 6-9.

[1976] V, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 6.

[1977] IV, 67; V, 20-21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 67; V, 20-21.

[1978] VI, 80.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 80.

[1979] Duhem (1913-1917) II, 447, treats of “Les Pères de l’Église et la Grande Année.”

[1979] Duhem (1913-1917) II, 447, discusses "The Fathers of the Church and the Great Year."

[1980] V, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 11.

[1981] De principiis, I, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Principles, I, 7.

[1982] V, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 10.

[1983] Deut., IV, 19-20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Deut., 4:19-20.

[1984] V, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 12.

[1985] I, 59.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 59.

[1986] V, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 11.

[1987] P. D. Huet, Origenianorum Lib. II, Cap. II, Quaestio VIII, De astris, in Migne, Patrologia Graeca, XVII, 973, et seq.

[1987] P. D. Huet, Origenians Book II, Chapter II, Question VIII, On the Stars, in Migne, Patrologia Graeca, XVII, 973, and following.

[1988] XVII, 28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 17, 28.

[1989] “In prooemio libri prioris eiusdem Περὶ ἀρχῶν, num. 10.”

[1989] “In the introduction of the first book of the same work Περὶ ἀρχῶν, no. 10.”

[1990] Eusebius, Praep. Evang., VI, 11, in Migne, PG, XXI, 477-506.

[1990] Eusebius, Praep. Evang., VI, 11, in Migne, PG, XXI, 477-506.

[1991] PG, XXI, 489.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ PG, 21, 489.

[1992] Ibid., 501-502.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 501-502.

[1993] P. D. Huet, Origenianorum Lib., II, ii, v. 10, cites Basil, Homil. 3 in Hexaem.; Epiphanius, Haer., LXIV, 4, and Epist. ad Joan. Jerosolymit., cap. 3; Jerome, Epist. 61 ad Pammach., cap. 3; Gregory Nyss., lib. in Hexaem.; Augustine, Confess., XIII, 15; Isidore, Origin., VII, 5.

[1993] P. D. Huet, Origenianorum Book II, chapter ii, section 10, cites Basil, Homil. 3 in Hexaem.; Epiphanius, Haer., LXIV, 4, and Epist. ad Joan. Jerosolymit., chapter 3; Jerome, Epist. 61 ad Pammach., chapter 3; Gregory of Nyssa, lib. in Hexaem.; Augustine, Confess., XIII, 15; Isidore, Origin., VII, 5.

See also Duhem (1913-1917) II, 487, “Les eaux supracélestes.”

See also Duhem (1913-1917) II, 487, “The Supersensible Waters.”

[1994] VI, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 21.

[1995] IV, 90-95.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 90-95.

[1996] Origen quotes, “Ye shall not practise augury nor observe the flight of birds,” which is found in the Septuagint, Levit., XIX, 26.

[1996] Origen quotes, “You shall not practice augury or observe the flight of birds,” which is found in the Septuagint, Levit., XIX, 26.

[1997] I, 66.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, age 66.

[1998] I, 36.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 36.

[1999] I, 33.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 33.

[2000] IV, 86-88.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 86-88.

[2001] IV, 98.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 98.

[2002] IV, 93; it will be recalled that the witches in The Golden Ass of Apuleius assume the bodies of weasels in order to rob a corpse.

[2002] IV, 93; it’s worth noting that the witches in The Golden Ass by Apuleius turn into weasels to steal from a corpse.

[2003] I, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 37.

[2004] VII, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 30.

[2005] VIII, 19-20.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 19-20.

[2006] Homily 18 on Numbers, Migne, PG, XII, 715.

[2006] Homily 18 on Numbers, Migne, PG, XII, 715.

[2007] Epistola 96 in Migne, PL, XXII, 78.

[2007] Letter 96 in Migne, PL, XXII, 78.

[2008] Migne, PG, XVII, 1091-92.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PG, vol. XVII, 1091-92.

[2009] Tertullian, Apology, cap. 21; so also Cyprian, Liber de idolorum vanitate, cap. 13. Latin text of Tertullian in PL, vols. 1-2; English translation in AN, vol. 3.

[2009] Tertullian, Apology, ch. 21; and also Cyprian, Liber de idolorum vanitate, ch. 13. Latin text of Tertullian in PL, vols. 1-2; English translation in AN, vol. 3.

[2010] Apology, cap. 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Apology, ch. 23.

[2011] De cultu feminarum, I, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Culture of Women, I, 2.

[2012] Apology, cap. 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Apology, ch. 22.

[2013] De anima, cap. 57.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Soul, cap. 57.

[2014] Apology, cap. 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Apology, ch. 23.

[2015] De anima, cap. 57. Damigeron is mentioned in the Orphic poem, Lithica, and in the Apology of Apuleius, cap. 45; is cited in the Geoponica, and was regarded by V. Rose as the Greek source of the Latin “Evax” and Marbod on stones. BN 7418, 14th century, Amigeronis de lapidibus, was printed by Pitra, Spic. Solesm., III, 324-35, and Abel, Orphei Lithica, p. 157, et seq. See further PW, “Damigeron.”

[2015] De anima, cap. 57. Damigeron is referenced in the Orphic poem, Lithica, and in the Apology of Apuleius, cap. 45; is mentioned in the Geoponica, and was considered by V. Rose as the Greek source of the Latin “Evax” and Marbod on stones. BN 7418, 14th century, Amigeronis de lapidibus, was published by Pitra, Spic. Solesm., III, 324-35, and Abel, Orphei Lithica, p. 157, et seq. See further PW, “Damigeron.”

[2016] Presumably Nectanebus.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Probably Nectanebus.

[2017] It is Aaron’s rod in the King James version.

[2017] It refers to Aaron's rod in the King James version.

[2018] De idolatria, cap. 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Idolatry, ch. 9.

[2019] Apology, cap. 35.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Apology, ch. 35.

[2020] PL, vol. 3; AN, vol. 4.

[2020] PL, vol. 3; AN, vol. 4.

[2021] Thus Minucius Felix says, Octavius, cap. 26, “Magi ... quidquid miraculi ludunt ... praestigias edunt,” while Tertullian, Apology, cap. 23, writes, “Porro si et magi phantasmata edunt ... si multa miracula circulatoriis praestigiis ludunt.”

[2021] So Minucius Felix says, Octavius, cap. 26, “The magicians ... whatever wonders they show ... perform tricks,” while Tertullian, Apology, cap. 23, writes, “Moreover, if the magicians are producing illusions ... if many miracles are just tricks played by illusionists.”

[2022] Cyprian, Liber de idolorum vanitate, caps. 6-7.

[2022] Cyprian, The Book on the Vanity of Idols, caps. 6-7.

[2023] PL, vol. VI; AN, vol. VII; the following references are all to this work.

[2023] PL, vol. VI; AN, vol. VII; the following references all point to this work.

[2024] V, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 3.

[2025] II, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 15.

[2026] II, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 17.

[2027] IV, 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 27.

[2028] II, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 17.

[2029] The work was discovered in 1842 at Mount Athos and edited by E. Miller in 1851, Duncker and Schneidewin in 1859, and Abbé Cruice in 1860. Greek text in PG, vol. XVI, part 3; English translation in AN, vol. V.

[2029] The work was found in 1842 at Mount Athos and edited by E. Miller in 1851, Duncker and Schneidewin in 1859, and Abbé Cruice in 1860. Greek text in PG, vol. XVI, part 3; English translation in AN, vol. V.

[2030] R. Ganschinietz, Hippolytos’ Capitel gegen die Magier, 1913, in TU, 39, 2, is a commentary on the text.

[2030] R. Ganschinietz, Hippolytos’ Capitel gegen die Magier, 1913, in TU, 39, 2, is a commentary on the text.

[2031] Refutation of All Heresies, IV, 28.

[2031] Refutation of All Heresies, IV, 28.

[2032] Since writing this sentence I have found an article by Diels on the discovery of alcohol in Societas Regia Scientiarum, Abhandl. Philos.-Hist. Classe, Berlin, 1913, in which he argues from this passage in Hippolytus that the discovery was made in the Alexandrian period and that it reached western Europe again only through the Arabs about the twelfth century, since alcohol is not mentioned in the older Schlettstadt version of the Mappae clavicula. If this be so, Adelard of Bath was perhaps the first to introduce it from the Arabs or the orient, although Diels does not say so.

[2032] Since writing this sentence, I have found an article by Diels about the discovery of alcohol in Societas Regia Scientiarum, Abhandl. Philos.-Hist. Classe, Berlin, 1913, in which he argues from this passage in Hippolytus that the discovery happened during the Alexandrian period and that it only made its way back to Western Europe through the Arabs around the twelfth century, since alcohol is not mentioned in the earlier Schlettstadt version of the Mappae clavicula. If that's the case, Adelard of Bath may have been the first to bring it from the Arabs or the East, although Diels doesn't state that.

[2033] Refutation of All Heresies, IV, 29-41.

[2033] Refutation of All Heresies, IV, 29-41.

[2034] In some places the text is illegible.

[2034] In some areas, the text is hard to read.

[2035] Cap. 105.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 105.

[2036] Leo Allatius “in syntagmate” De engastrimytho, cap. 7; Sulpicius Severus, Historia sacra, liber I; Anastasius Antiochenus, Ὁδηγός , quaest., 112; “et eorum quos laudat Bellarminus liber IV de Christo, cap. 11.”

[2036] Leo Allatius “in syntagmate” On the Ventrophantom, chapter 7; Sulpicius Severus, Holy History, book I; Anastasius of Antioch, Ὁδηγός, question 112; “and those whom Bellarmine praises in book IV on Christ, chapter 11.”

[2037] Περὶ τῆς ἐγγαστριμύθου, PG, XLV, 107-14.

[2037] About the ventriloquist, PG, XLV, 107-14.

[2038] Migne, PG, XVIII, 613-74.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PG, XVIII, 613-74.

[2039] The King James version, First Samuel, XXVIII, 19, reads, “and to morrow shalt thou and thy sons be with me,” instead of “thou and Jonathan.”

[2039] The King James Version, First Samuel, 28:19, reads, “and tomorrow you and your sons will be with me,” instead of “you and Jonathan.”

[2040] Migne, PG, XII, 143-74.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PG, XII, 143-74.

[2041] Migne, PG, LVI, 61, et seq.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PG, LVI, 61, and following.

[2042] Migne, PG, LVI, 637, et seq. Homily II, “Opus imperfectum in Matthaeum quod Chrysostomi nomine circumfertur.” Ibid., 602, et seq., for opinions of various past writers as to its authenticity.

[2042] Migne, PG, LVI, 637, and following. Homily II, “An Incomplete Work on Matthew that is Attributed to Chrysostom.” Ibid., 602, and following., for views of different previous authors regarding its authenticity.

[2043] Migne, PG, LX, 274-5, in the 38th homily on the Book of Acts.

[2043] Migne, PG, LX, 274-5, in the 38th homily on the Book of Acts.

[2044] On the other hand, D. Friedrich Münter, Der Stern der Weisen: Untersuchungen über das Geburtsjahr Christi, Kopenhagen, 1827, adopted the astrological theory that the star of Bethlehem was really a major conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter in Pisces, which Jewish tradition, too, seems to have regarded as the sign of the Messiah, and that therefore Jesus was born in 6 B. C. This view had already been advanced by Kepler, but recent writers seem to prefer a conjunction in Aries: see H. G. Voigt, Die Geschichte Jesu und die Astrologie, Leipzig, 1911; Kritzinger, Der Stern der Weisen, Gütersloh, 1911; von Oefele, Die Angaben der Berliner Planetentafel P8279 verglichen mit der Geburtsgeschichte Christi im Berichte des Matthäus, Berlin, 1903, in Mitteil. d. Vorderasiatischen Gesellschaft.

[2044] On the other hand, D. Friedrich Münter, Der Stern der Weisen: Untersuchungen über das Geburtsjahr Christi, Copenhagen, 1827, embraced the astrological theory that the star of Bethlehem was actually a significant alignment of Saturn and Jupiter in Pisces, which Jewish tradition also seems to have recognized as the sign of the Messiah, suggesting that Jesus was born in 6 B.C. This idea had already been proposed by Kepler, but more recent authors appear to favor a conjunction in Aries: see H. G. Voigt, Die Geschichte Jesu und die Astrologie, Leipzig, 1911; Kritzinger, Der Stern der Weisen, Gütersloh, 1911; von Oefele, Die Angaben der Berliner Planetentafel P8279 verglichen mit der Geburtsgeschichte Christi im Berichte des Matthäus, Berlin, 1903, in Mitteil. d. Vorderasiatischen Gesellschaft.

[2045] Mâle, Religious Art in France, 1913, p. 208, was not able to trace the legend that the star of the Magi appeared with the face of a child beyond The Golden Legend compiled by James of Voragine in the thirteenth century. We shall, however, find it mentioned in the twelfth century by Abelard, who derived it from this spurious homily of Chrysostom.

[2045] Mâle, Religious Art in France, 1913, p. 208, was not able to trace the legend that the star of the Magi appeared with the face of a child beyond The Golden Legend compiled by James of Voragine in the thirteenth century. We shall, however, find it mentioned in the twelfth century by Abelard, who derived it from this spurious homily of Chrysostom.

[2046] They are twice so represented on the elaborately carved Christian sarcophagus in the museum at Syracuse, Sicily, where also the manger, ox, and ass are shown (compare note 4 below).

[2046] They are depicted twice on the intricately carved Christian sarcophagus in the museum in Syracuse, Sicily, where the manger, ox, and donkey are also shown (compare note 4 below).

[2047] Hugo Kehrer, Die Heiligen drei Könige in Litteratur und Kunst, Leipzig, 1908, 2 vols. An earlier work on the three Magi is Inchofer, Tres Magi Evangelici, Rome, 1639.

[2047] Hugo Kehrer, The Holy Three Kings in Literature and Art, Leipzig, 1908, 2 vols. An earlier work on the three Magi is Inchofer, Three Evangelical Magi, Rome, 1639.

[2048] J. C. Thilo, Eusebii Alexandrini oratio Περὶ ἀστρονόμων (praemissa de magis et stella quaestione) e Cod. Reg. Par. primum edita, Progr. Halae, 1834.

[2048] J. C. Thilo, Eusebii Alexandrini oratio Περὶ ἀστρονόμων (praemissa de magis et stella quaestione) e Cod. Reg. Par. primum edita, Progr. Halae, 1834.

[2049] A. Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque, 1899, p. 611, “La royauté des Mages fut inventée (vers le VIe siècle), comme la crèche (sic! see Luke, II, 12 and 16), le bœuf et l’âne pour montrer l’accomplissement des prophéties.”

[2049] A. Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque, 1899, p. 611, “The kingship of the Magi was invented (around the 6th century), just like the manger (sic! see Luke, II, 12 and 16), the ox and the donkey to demonstrate the fulfillment of the prophecies.”

[2050] Religious Art in France, 1913, p. 214 note, following, I presume, Kehrer’s work, as he does on p. 213.

[2050] Religious Art in France, 1913, p. 214 note, following, I assume, Kehrer’s work, as he mentions on p. 213.

[2051] For detailed references see Münter, Der Stern der Weisen, 1827, p. 15; and Bouché-Leclercq, 1899, p. 611, where they are stated somewhat differently.

[2051] For detailed references see Münter, Der Stern der Weisen, 1827, p. 15; and Bouché-Leclercq, 1899, p. 611, where they are stated somewhat differently.

[2052] Comm. in Platonis Timaeum, II, vi, 125; quoted by Münter (1827), pp. 27-8.

[2052] Comm. in Platonis Timaeum, II, vi, 125; quoted by Münter (1827), pp. 27-8.

[2053] BN 16819, fol. 49r. Corpus Christi 134, early 12th century, fol. 1 v., has a brief “Magorum trium qui Domino Infanti aurum obtulere nomina et descriptio.”

[2053] BN 16819, fol. 49r. Corpus Christi 134, early 12th century, fol. 1 v., has a brief “Names and descriptions of the three Magi who presented gold to the Infant Lord.”

[2054] Cotton Galba E, VIII, 15th century, fols. 3-28, Fabulosa narratio de tribus magis qui Christum adorarunt sive de tribus regibus Coloniensibus.

[2054] Cotton Galba E, VIII, 15th century, fols. 3-28, Fabulosa narratio de tribus magis qui Christum adorarunt sive de tribus regibus Coloniensibus.

[2055] Cap. 12 in the 1478 edition.

[2055] Cap. 12 in the 1478 edition.

[2056] Ibid., cap. 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., cap. 34.

[2057] At Munich all the following MSS are 15th century: CLM 18621, fol. 135, Liber trium regum, fol. 215, Legenda trium regum excerpta ex praecedenti; 19544, fols. 314-49, and 26688, fols. 157-92, Laudes et gesta trium regum, etc.; 21627, fols. 212-31, Historia de tribus regibus; 23839, fols. 112-37, and 24571, fols. 50-104, Gesta trium regum; 25073, fols. 260-83, de nativitate domini et de tribus regibus. At Berlin MSS 799 and 800, both of the 15th century, have the Gesta trium regum ascribed to John of Hildesheim. So Wolfenbüttel 3266, anno 1461. The printed edition of 1478 in 46 chapters and about 30 folios is also ascribed to John of Hildesheim. We read on the binding, “Ioannis Hildeshemensis Liber de trium regum translatione.” The Incipit is: “Reverendissimo in Christo patri ac domino domino florencio de weuelkouen divina providencia monasteriensis ecclesie episcopo dignissimo.” The colophon is: “Liber de gestis ac trina beatissimorum trium regum translacione ... per me Johannem guldenschoff de moguncia.” Some other MSS, also of the 15th century, are: Vatic. Palat. Lat. 859, de gestis et translationibus trium regum, and at Oxford, University College 33, Liber collectus de gestis et translationibus sanctorum trium regum de Colonia; Laud Misc., 658, The history of the three kings of Cologne, in forty-one chapters with a preface. It is thus seen that the number of chapters varies. Coxe’s catalogue of the Laud MSS states that the Latin original was printed at Cologne in quarto in 1481, and that it is very different from the version printed by Wynkyn de Worde. “The Story of the Magi,” in Bodleian (Bernard) 2325, covers only folio 68. At Amiens is a MS which the catalogue dates in the 14th century and ascribes to John of Hildesheim, and its Incipit is practically that of the printed edition: Amiens 481, fols. 1-58, “Reverendissimo in Christo Patri ac domino domino Florentino de Wovellonem (sic) divina providencia Monasteriensis ecclesie episcopo dignissimo. Cum venerandissimorum trium Magorum, ymo verius trium Regum.” The work ends in the MS with the words, “ ... summi Regis servant legem incole Colonie. Amen. Explicit hystoria.”

[2057] In Munich, all the following manuscripts are from the 15th century: CLM 18621, fol. 135, Liber trium regum, fol. 215, Legenda trium regum excerpta ex praecedenti; 19544, fols. 314-49, and 26688, fols. 157-92, Laudes et gesta trium regum, etc.; 21627, fols. 212-31, Historia de tribus regibus; 23839, fols. 112-37, and 24571, fols. 50-104, Gesta trium regum; 25073, fols. 260-83, de nativitate domini et de tribus regibus. In Berlin, manuscripts 799 and 800, both from the 15th century, have the Gesta trium regum attributed to John of Hildesheim. Also, Wolfenbüttel 3266, from the year 1461. The printed edition from 1478 consists of 46 chapters and about 30 folios and is also attributed to John of Hildesheim. The binding reads, “Ioannis Hildeshemensis Liber de trium regum translatione.” The incipit is: “Reverendissimo in Christo patri ac domino domino Florencio de Wovellonem, divina providencia monasteriensis ecclesie episcopo dignissimo.” The colophon states: “Liber de gestis ac trina beatissimorum trium regum translacione ... per me Johannem Guldenschoff de Moguncia.” Some other manuscripts, also from the 15th century, include: Vatic. Palat. Lat. 859, de gestis et translationibus trium regum, and at Oxford, University College 33, Liber collectus de gestis et translationibus sanctorum trium regum de Colonia; Laud Misc., 658, The history of the three kings of Cologne, in forty-one chapters with a preface. This shows that the number of chapters varies. Coxe’s catalogue of the Laud manuscripts indicates that the Latin original was printed in Cologne in quarto in 1481 and that it differs significantly from the version printed by Wynkyn de Worde. “The Story of the Magi,” found in Bodleian (Bernard) 2325, only covers folio 68. In Amiens, there is a manuscript dated in the 14th century and attributed to John of Hildesheim, and its incipit is almost identical to that of the printed edition: Amiens 481, fols. 1-58, “Reverendissimo in Christo Patri ac domino domino Florentino de Wovellonem (sic) divina providencia Monasteriensis ecclesie episcopo dignissimo. Cum venerandissimorum trium Magorum, ymo verius trium Regum.” The work concludes in the manuscript with the words, “... summi Regis servant legem incole Colonie. Amen. Explicit hystoria.”

[2058] BN 16819, 10th century, fols. 46r-49r.

[2058] BN 16819, 10th century, fols. 46r-49r.

[2059] Marco Polo (I, 13-14, ed. Yule and Cordier, 1903, vol. I, 78-81), who located the Magi in Saba, Persia, recounts further legends concerning them and their gifts.

[2059] Marco Polo (I, 13-14, ed. Yule and Cordier, 1903, vol. I, 78-81), who found the Magi in Saba, Persia, shares more stories about them and their gifts.

See also F. W. K. Müller, Uigurica, I, i, Die Anbetung der Magier, ein Christliches Bruchstück, Berlin, 1908.

See also F. W. K. Müller, Uigurica, I, i, Die Anbetung der Magier, ein Christliches Bruchstück, Berlin, 1908.

[2060] Beazley, Dawn of Modern Geography, I, 274, says, “Augustine and Chrysostom felt and spoke in the same way, though in more measured language, and nearly all early Christian writers who touched upon the matter did so to echo the voice of authorities so unquestioned.” But I cannot agree with this statement. He goes on to imply that a majority of the fathers, like Cosmas Indicopleustes, attacked the belief in the sphericity of the earth; but here, too, I wonder if he is not following Letronne, Des Opinions Cosmographiques des Pères, without having examined the citations. Certainly no such attitude is found in Basil’s Hexaemeron, Hom. 3 and 9 as the citation implies. I have not seen Marinelli, La geographia e i Padri della Chiesa, estratto dal Bollettino della Società geografica italiana, anno 1882, pp. 11-15.

[2060] Beazley, Dawn of Modern Geography, I, 274, says, “Augustine and Chrysostom felt and spoke similarly, though in a more measured way, and nearly all early Christian writers who addressed the topic did so to echo the voices of authorities that were beyond question.” However, I cannot agree with this statement. He suggests that most of the fathers, like Cosmas Indicopleustes, criticized the belief in the earth's roundness; but here, too, I question whether he is not following Letronne, Des Opinions Cosmographiques des Pères, without thoroughly examining the citations. Certainly, no such attitude is found in Basil’s Hexaemeron, Hom. 3 and 9 as the citation implies. I have not encountered Marinelli, La geographia e i Padri della Chiesa, estratto dal Bollettino della Società geografica italiana, anno 1882, pp. 11-15.

[2061] Divin. Instit., III, 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Divin. Instit., III, 24.

[2062] Migne, PG, vol. 29; PN, vol. 8.

[2062] Migne, PG, vol. 29; PN, vol. 8.

[2063] Duhem (1914) II, 394, however, prefers Gregory of Nyssa’s work as “à la fois plus sobre, plus concis, et plus philosophique....”

[2063] Duhem (1914) II, 394, however, prefers Gregory of Nyssa’s work as “both more restrained, more concise, and more philosophical....”

[2064] Homily I was delivered in the morning, II in the evening; III was in the morning and speaks of a coming evening address. At the close of Homily VII Basil urges his hearers to talk over at their evening meal what they have heard this morning and this evening. If we regard Homily VI as the morning address referred to, we shall have Homily V left to cover an entire day. Homily VI, however, is the longest of the nine. In any case Homily VIII is clearly preached in the morning, and IX at evening.

[2064] Homily I was delivered in the morning, II in the evening; III was in the morning and talks about a coming evening address. At the end of Homily VII, Basil encourages his listeners to discuss what they heard in the morning and the evening during their evening meal. If we consider Homily VI as the morning address mentioned, then we have Homily V left to cover the whole day. However, Homily VI is the longest of the nine. In any case, Homily VIII is clearly given in the morning, and IX in the evening.

[2065] Bk. II, caps. 10-17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Book II, chapters 10-17.

[2066] Epistola 65, ad Pammachium. Augustine’s De Genesi ad litteram, which Cassiodorus (Institutes, I, 1) esteemed above the commentaries of Basil and Ambrose upon Genesis, is a somewhat similar work, but, after a briefer treatment of the work of creation, continues to comment on the text up to Adam’s expulsion from Paradise.

[2066] Epistola 65, ad Pammachium. Augustine’s De Genesi ad litteram, which Cassiodorus (Institutes, I, 1) valued more than the commentaries of Basil and Ambrose on Genesis, is a somewhat similar work, but, after a shorter discussion of creation, continues to analyze the text until Adam is driven out of Paradise.

[2067] Migne, PL, 14, 131-2. The most recent edition of the Hexaemeron of Ambrose is by C. Schenkl. Vienna, 1896.

[2067] Migne, PL, 14, 131-2. The latest edition of the Hexaemeron by Ambrose is by C. Schenkl. Vienna, 1896.

[2068] Fialon, Étude sur St. Basile, 1869, p. 296.

[2068] Fialon, Study on St. Basil, 1869, p. 296.

[2069] Homily IX.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homily 9.

[2070] For example, in the catalogue, published in 1744, of MSS in the then Royal Library at Paris there are listed five copies of Eustathius’ Latin translation, dating from the ninth to the fourteenth century—2200, 4; 1701, 1; 1702, 1; 1787A, 2; 2633, 1; and fifteen copies of the Hexaemeron of Ambrose—1718; 1702, 2; 1719 to 1727 inclusive; 2387, 4; 2637 and 2638.

[2070] For example, in the catalog published in 1744 of manuscripts in the then Royal Library in Paris, there are five copies of Eustathius’ Latin translation listed, dating from the ninth to the fourteenth century—2200, 4; 1701, 1; 1702, 1; 1787A, 2; 2633, 1; and fifteen copies of Ambrose’s Hexaemeron—1718; 1702, 2; 1719 to 1727 inclusive; 2387, 4; 2637 and 2638.

I have not noted what MSS of the Hexaemerons of Basil and Ambrose are found in the British Museum and Bodleian libraries. Some other medieval copies of Basil’s in Latin translation are: BN 12134, 9th century Lombard hand; Vendôme 122, 11th century, fols. 1 v-60; Soissons 121, 12th century, fol. 97, Eustathius’ prologue and a part of his translation; Grenoble 258, 12th century, fols. 1-45, “Eustathii translatio....”

I haven't noted which manuscripts of the Hexaemerons by Basil and Ambrose are in the British Museum and Bodleian libraries. Some other medieval copies of Basil's work in Latin translation include: BN 12134, 9th-century Lombard handwriting; Vendôme 122, 11th century, folios 1v-60; Soissons 121, 12th century, folio 97, Eustathius’ prologue and part of his translation; Grenoble 258, 12th century, folios 1-45, “Eustathii translatio....”

The Hexaemeron of Ambrose, since written originally in Latin, is naturally found oftener. The oldest MS is said to be CU Corpus Christi 193, large Lombard script of the 8th century which closely resembles BN 3836. Other MSS are: BN 11624, 11th century; BN 12135, 9th century; BN 12136, 12-13th century; BN 13336, 11th century; BN 14847, 12th century, fol. 163; BN nouv. acq. 490, 12th century; Vatican 269-273 inclusive, 10-15th centuries; Alençon 10, 12th century; Vendôme 129, 12th century, fols. 48-126; Semur, 10, 12th century; Chartres 63, 10-11th century, fols. 3-46; Orléans 35, 11th century; Orléans 192, 7th century, part of the first two books only; Amiens fonds Lescalopier 30, 12th century; le Mans 15, 11th century; Brussels 1782, 10th century; CLM 2549, 12th century; CLM 3728, 10th century; CLM 6258, 10th century; CLM 13079, 12th century; CLM 14399, 12th century; Novara 40, 12th century; and many other MSS of later date in these and other libraries.

The Hexaemeron by Ambrose, originally written in Latin, is naturally encountered more frequently. The oldest manuscript is said to be CU Corpus Christi 193, a large Lombard script from the 8th century that closely resembles BN 3836. Other manuscripts include: BN 11624 from the 11th century; BN 12135 from the 9th century; BN 12136 from the 12th-13th century; BN 13336 from the 11th century; BN 14847 from the 12th century, fol. 163; BN nouv. acq. 490 from the 12th century; Vatican 269-273, covering the 10th-15th centuries; Alençon 10 from the 12th century; Vendôme 129 from the 12th century, fols. 48-126; Semur, 10, from the 12th century; Chartres 63 from the 10th-11th century, fols. 3-46; Orléans 35 from the 11th century; Orléans 192 from the 7th century, containing only parts of the first two books; Amiens fonds Lescalopier 30 from the 12th century; le Mans 15 from the 11th century; Brussels 1782 from the 10th century; CLM 2549 from the 12th century; CLM 3728 from the 10th century; CLM 6258 from the 10th century; CLM 13079 from the 12th century; CLM 14399 from the 12th century; Novara 40 from the 12th century; and many other manuscripts from later periods in these and other libraries.

[2071] De proprietatibus rerum, VIII, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Properties of Things, VIII, 4.

[2072] Bede, Hexaemeron, sive libri quatuor in principium Genesis usque ad nativitatem Isaac et electionem Ismaelis, in Migne, PL, 91, 9-100. Bede originally intended to carry his work only to the expulsion of Adam from Paradise, but subsequently added three more books.

[2072] Bede, Hexaemeron, or Four Books on the Beginning of Genesis up to the Birth of Isaac and the Choice of Ishmael, in Migne, PL, 91, 9-100. Bede initially planned to stop his work at the expulsion of Adam from Paradise but later added three more books.

[2073] Homilies I, VIII, and X.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sermons I, VIII, and X.

[2074] Homily III, 1 and 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homily 3, 1 and 10.

[2075] I, 7; III, 5 and 10.

[2075] I, 7; III, 5 and 10.

[2076] IV, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 1.

[2077] I, 7; III, 5; IV, 3, 4, and 7; VI, 9; VII, 6.

[2077] I, 7; III, 5; IV, 3, 4, and 7; VI, 9; VII, 6.

[2078] II, 7; III, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 7; III, 10.

[2079] IV, 1; VI, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 1; VI, 1.

[2080] VIII, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 8.

[2081] Homily V, 10; IX, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sermon V, 10; IX, 2.

[2082] I, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 3.

[2083] II, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 1.

[2084] III, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 3.

[2085] II, 4, et seq.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 4, and following.

[2086] III, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 9.

[2087] Charles, The Book of the Secrets of Enoch, Introduction, pp. xxxi, xxxix.

[2087] Charles, The Book of the Secrets of Enoch, Introduction, pp. xxxi, xxxix.

[2088] Irenaeus, I, 5; Epiphanius, ed. Petavius 186AB.

[2088] Irenaeus, I, 5; Epiphanius, ed. Petavius 186AB.

[2089] Homily I, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sermon I, 10.

[2090] VI, 9-11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 9-11.

[2091] I, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 11.

[2092] II, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 7.

[2093] IV, 2-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 2-4.

[2094] Homily IV, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homily 4:4.

[2095] IV, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 6.

[2096] V, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 2.

[2097] IV, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 5.

[2098] III, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 4.

[2099] VI, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 1.

[2100] Homily V, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homily 5, 3.

[2101] V, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Volume 9.

[2102] V, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 4.

[2103] V, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 6.

[2104] VII, 5; IX, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 5; IX, 3.

[2105] VIII, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VIII, 6.

[2106] Homily VII, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homily 7, 6.

[2107] IX, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 3.

[2108] VIII, 5. See also Aristotle, History of Animals, V, 8.

[2108] VIII, 5. See also Aristotle, History of Animals, V, 8.

[2109] Homily VIII, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homily 8, 6.

[2110] IX, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IX, 2.

[2111] IX, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 9, 5.

[2112] Homily, VI, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homily, 6, 11.

[2113] V, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 1.

[2114] VI, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 3.

[2115] Ad Autolycum, II, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ad Autolycus, II, 15.

[2116] Homily VI, 5-7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homily 6, 5-7.

[2117] Homily VI, 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homily 6, 10.

[2118] V, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ V, 2.

[2119] V, 7. But perhaps he simply means that oaks will grow where pines used to.

[2119] V, 7. But maybe he just means that oaks will grow where pines used to.

Tertullian, De pallio, cap. 2, dwelling on the law of change, speaks of the washing down of soil from mountains, the alluvial formation by rivers, and of sea-shells on mountain tops as a proof that the whole earth was once covered by water. He seems to have in mind a gradual process of geological evolution rather than Noah’s flood, and Sir James Frazer states that Isidore of Seville is the first he knows of the many writers who have appealed “to fossil shells imbedded in remote mountains as witnesses to the truth of the Noachian tradition,”—Origines, XIII, 22, cited by J. G. Frazer, Folk-Lore in the Old Testament (1918), I, 159, who cites the passage in Tertullian at pp. 338-9.

Tertullian, De pallio, cap. 2, talking about the law of change, describes the erosion of soil from mountains, the formation of alluvial deposits by rivers, and the presence of sea shells on mountain tops as evidence that the entire earth was once submerged in water. He seems to be considering a gradual process of geological evolution rather than Noah’s flood, and Sir James Frazer notes that Isidore of Seville is the first he knows of the many writers who have referenced “fossil shells found in high mountains as evidence for the truth of the Noah tradition,”—Origines, XIII, 22, cited by J. G. Frazer, Folk-Lore in the Old Testament (1918), I, 159, who mentions the passage in Tertullian on pp. 338-9.

[2120] Homily IX, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Homily 9, 2.

[2121] Cunningham, Christian Opinion on Usury, p. 9.

[2121] Cunningham, Christian Opinion on Usury, p. 9.

[2122] Twice in the course of the Panarion (Dindorf, I, 280, and II, 428; Petavius, 2D and 404A) he gives the year of the reign of Valentinian and Valens, namely, the eleventh and the twelfth.

[2122] Twice in the course of the Panarion (Dindorf, I, 280, and II, 428; Petavius, 2D and 404A) he mentions the years of the reign of Valentinian and Valens, specifically, the eleventh and the twelfth.

[2123] Lucian’s De dipsadibus will be recalled; see also Pliny, NH, XXIII, 80; Lucan, Pharsalia, IX, 719.

[2123] Lucian’s De dipsadibus will be referenced; also check Pliny, NH, XXIII, 80; Lucan, Pharsalia, IX, 719.

[2124] Pliny, NH, XXIII, 18; XXX, 10.

[2124] Pliny, NH, 23, 18; 30, 10.

[2125] Pliny, NH, XXV, 53; XXI, 92; XIX, 62; XII, 40 and 55.

[2125] Pliny, NH, XXV, 53; XXI, 92; XIX, 62; XII, 40 and 55.

[2126] Dindorf, II, 450; Petavius, 422C.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Dindorf, II, 450; Petavius, 422C.

[2127] Liber de XII gemmis rationalis summi sacerdotis Hebraeorum, published in Dindorf’s edition of the Opera of Epiphanius, vol. IV, pp. 141-248, with the preface and notes of Fogginius, and both the Latin and Greek versions.

[2127] Book of the Twelve Gems of the High Priest of the Hebrews, published in Dindorf’s edition of the Works of Epiphanius, vol. IV, pp. 141-248, with the preface and notes by Fogginius, along with both the Latin and Greek versions.

[2128] Ibid., 160-62.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 160-62.

[2129] P. 174.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pg. 174.

[2130] Pp. 190-91.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pp. 190-91.

[2131] Ibid., 184.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 184.

[2132] Pitra, Spicilegium Solesmense, Paris, 1855, III, xlvii-lxxx. K. Ahrens, Zur Geschichte des sogenannten Physiologus, 1885. M. F. Mann, Bestiaire Divin de Guillaume Le Clerc. Heilbronn, 1888, pp. 16-33, “Entstehung des Physiologus und seine Entwicklung im Abendlande.” F. Lauchert, Geschichte des Physiologus, Strassburg, 1889. E. Peters, Der griechische Physiologus und seine orientalischen Uebersetzungen, Berlin, 1898. M. Goldstaub, Der Physiologus und seine Weiterbildung, besonders in der lateinischen und in der byzantinischen Litteratur, in Philologus, Suppl. Bd. VIII (1898-1901), 337-404. Also in Verhandl. d. 41. Versammlung deutscher Philologen u. Schulmänner in München, Leipzig (1892), pp. 212-21. V. Schultze, Der Physiologus in der kirchlichen Kunst des Mittelalters, in Christliches Kunstblatt, XXXIX (1897), 49-55. J. Strzygowski, Der Bilderkreis des griechischen Physiologus, in Byz. Zeitsch. Ergänzungsheft, I (1899). E. P. Evans, Animal Symbolism in Ecclesiastical Architecture, 1896, is disappointing, being mainly compiled from secondary sources and having little to say on ecclesiastical architecture.

[2132] Pitra, Spicilegium Solesmense, Paris, 1855, III, xlvii-lxxx. K. Ahrens, Zur Geschichte des sogenannten Physiologus, 1885. M. F. Mann, Bestiaire Divin de Guillaume Le Clerc, Heilbronn, 1888, pp. 16-33, “The Origin of the Physiologus and Its Development in the West.” F. Lauchert, Geschichte des Physiologus, Strassburg, 1889. E. Peters, Der griechische Physiologus und seine orientalischen Uebersetzungen, Berlin, 1898. M. Goldstaub, Der Physiologus und seine Weiterbildung, besonders in der lateinischen und in der byzantinischen Litteratur, in Philologus, Suppl. Bd. VIII (1898-1901), 337-404. Also in Verhandl. d. 41. Versammlung deutscher Philologen u. Schulmänner in München, Leipzig (1892), pp. 212-21. V. Schultze, Der Physiologus in der kirchlichen Kunst des Mittelalters, in Christliches Kunstblatt, XXXIX (1897), 49-55. J. Strzygowski, Der Bilderkreis des griechischen Physiologus, in Byz. Zeitsch. Ergänzungsheft, I (1899). E. P. Evans, Animal Symbolism in Ecclesiastical Architecture, 1896, is disappointing, mainly compiled from secondary sources and offering little insight on ecclesiastical architecture.

[2133] EB, 11th ed., “Arthropoda.”

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ EB, 11th ed., “Arthropods.”

[2134] Lauchert (1889), pp. 229-79, attempts a critical edition of the Greek text.

[2134] Lauchert (1889), pp. 229-79, aims to produce a critical edition of the Greek text.

[2135] Pitra (1855), III, 374-90; French translation in Cahier, Nouveaux mélanges (1874), I, 117, et seq.

[2135] Pitra (1855), III, 374-90; French translation in Cahier, Nouveaux mélanges (1874), I, 117, et seq.

[2136] O. G. Tychsen, Physiologus Syrus, 1795; from an incomplete Vatican MS. Land, Otia Syriaca, p. 31, et seq., or in Anecdota Syriaca, IV, 115, et seq., gives the complete text with a Latin translation.

[2136] O. G. Tychsen, Physiologus Syrus, 1795; from an incomplete Vatican manuscript. Land, Otia Syriaca, p. 31, et seq., or in Anecdota Syriaca, IV, 115, et seq., provides the full text along with a Latin translation.

[2137] Hommel, Die aethiopische Uebersetzung des Physiologus, Leipzig, 1877. A bit of it was translated by Pitra (1855), III, 416-7.

[2137] Hommel, The Ethiopian Translation of the Physiologus, Leipzig, 1877. A portion of it was translated by Pitra (1855), III, 416-7.

[2138] Land, Otia Syriaca, p. 137, et seq., with Latin translation. A fragment in Pitra (1855), III, 535.

[2138] Land, Otia Syriaca, p. 137, et seq., with Latin translation. A fragment in Pitra (1855), III, 535.

[2139] Pitra (1855), III, 338-73, used MSS from the 13th to 15th century. The earliest known illuminated copies are of 1100 A. D. and later: see Dalton, Byzantine Art and Archaeology, Oxford, 1911, pp. 481-2.

[2139] Pitra (1855), III, 338-73, used MSS from the 13th to 15th century. The earliest known illuminated copies date back to 1100 A.D. and later: see Dalton, Byzantine Art and Archaeology, Oxford, 1911, pp. 481-2.

[2140] The oldest Latin MSS seem to be two of the 8th and 9th centuries at Berne. Edited by Mai, Classici auctores, Rome, 1835, VII, 585-96, and more completely by Pitra (1855), III, 418; also by G. Heider, in Archiv f. Kunde österreich. Geschichtsquellen, Vienna, 1850, II, 545; Cahier et Martin, Mélanges d’archéologie, Paris, II (1851), 85ff., III (1853), 203ff., IV (1856), 55ff. Cahier, Nouveaux mélanges (1874), p. 106ff.

[2140] The oldest Latin manuscripts appear to be two from the 8th and 9th centuries located at Berne. They were edited by Mai in Classici auctores, Rome, 1835, VII, 585-96, and more thoroughly by Pitra (1855), III, 418; also by G. Heider, in Archiv f. Kunde österreich. Geschichtsquellen, Vienna, 1850, II, 545; Cahier and Martin, Mélanges d’archéologie, Paris, II (1851), 85ff., III (1853), 203ff., IV (1856), 55ff. Cahier, Nouveaux mélanges (1874), p. 106ff.

Mann (1888), pp. 37-73, prints the Latin text which he regards as William le Clerc’s source from Royal 2-C-XII, and gives a list of other MSS of Latin Bestiaries in English libraries.

Mann (1888), pp. 37-73, includes the Latin text that he considers to be William le Clerc’s source from Royal 2-C-XII, and provides a list of other manuscripts of Latin Bestiaries found in English libraries.

Other medieval Latin Bestiaries have been printed in the works of Hildebert of Tours or Le Mans (Migne, PL, 171, 1217-24: really this poem concerning only twelve animals is by Theobald, who was perhaps abbot at Monte Cassino, 1022-1035, and it was printed under the name of Theobald before 1500,—see the volume numbered IA.12367 in the British Museum and entitled, Phisiologus Theobaldi Episcopi de naturis duodecim animalium. Indeed, it was printed at least nine times under his name,—see Hain, 15467-75): and in the works of Hugh of St. Victor (Migne, PL, 177, 9-164, De bestiis et aliis rebus libri quatuor). Both of these versions occur in numerous MSS, as does a third version which opens with citation of the remark of Jacob in blessing his sons, “Judah is a lion’s whelp.” The author then cites Physiologus as usual concerning the three natures of the lion. See Wolfenbüttel 4435, 11th century, fols. 159-68v, Liber bestiarum. “De leone rege bestiarum et animalium (est) etenim iacob benedicens iudam ait Catulus leonis iuda. De leone. Leo tres naturas habet.” Laud. Misc. 247, 12th century, fol. 140-, ... caps. 36, praevia tabula ... Tit. “De tribus naturis leonis.” Incip. “Bestiarium seu animalium regis; etenim Jacob benedicens filium suum Udam ait Catulus leonis Judas filius meus quis suscitabit eum; Fisiologus dicit, Tres res naturales habere leonem....” Library of Dukes of Burgundy 10074, 10th century, “Etenim Jacob benedicens.” CLM 19648, 15th century, fols. 180-95, “Igitur Jacob benedicens.” CLM 23787, 15th century, fols. 12-20, “Igitur Jacob benedicens.” CU Trinity 884, 13th century in a fine hand, with 107 English miniatures, fol. 89-, “Et enim iacob benedicens filium suum iudam ait catulus leonis est iudas filius meus”; this MS ends imperfectly.

Other medieval Latin Bestiaries have been published in the works of Hildebert of Tours or Le Mans (Migne, PL, 171, 1217-24: actually, this poem about just twelve animals is by Theobald, who was possibly the abbot at Monte Cassino from 1022-1035, and it was published under his name before 1500—see the volume numbered IA.12367 in the British Museum titled, Phisiologus Theobaldi Episcopi de naturis duodecim animalium. In fact, it was printed at least nine times under his name—see Hain, 15467-75); and in the works of Hugh of St. Victor (Migne, PL, 177, 9-164, De bestiis et aliis rebus libri quatuor). Both of these versions appear in many manuscripts, along with a third version that begins with a quote from Jacob blessing his sons, “Judah is a lion’s whelp.” The author then references Physiologus as usual regarding the three natures of the lion. See Wolfenbüttel 4435, 11th century, fols. 159-68v, Liber bestiarum. “About the lion, king of beasts and animals (it's) indeed Jacob blessing Judah says, The cub of the lion is Judah. About the lion. The lion has three natures.” Laud. Misc. 247, 12th century, fol. 140-, ... caps. 36, preliminary table ... Tit. “About the three natures of the lion.” Incip. “Bestiary or nature of the king of animals; for indeed Jacob, blessing his son Judah says, The cub of the lion is my son Judah; who will raise him?; Physiologus says, The lion has three natural qualities....” Library of Dukes of Burgundy 10074, 10th century, “For indeed Jacob blesses.” CLM 19648, 15th century, fols. 180-95, “So Jacob blesses.” CLM 23787, 15th century, fols. 12-20, “So Jacob blesses.” CU Trinity 884, 13th century in a beautiful hand, with 107 English miniatures, fol. 89-, “And indeed Jacob, blessing his son Judah, says, The cub of the lion is my son Judah”; this manuscript ends imperfectly.

[2141] Printed by Lauchert (1889), pp. 280-99.

[2141] Printed by Lauchert (1889), pp. 280-99.

[2142] Max F. Mann, Der Physiologus des Philipp von Thaon und seine Quellen, Halle, 1884, 53 pp.

[2142] Max F. Mann, The Physiologus of Philipp of Thaon and His Sources, Halle, 1884, 53 pp.

[2143] Mann, Bestiaire Divin de Guillaume Le Clerc, Heilbronn, 1888, in Französische Studien, VI, 2, pp. 201-306. Most recent edition by Robert, Leipzig, 1890.

[2143] Mann, Bestiaire Divin de Guillaume Le Clerc, Heilbronn, 1888, in Französische Studien, VI, 2, pp. 201-306. Most recent edition by Robert, Leipzig, 1890.

[2144] Besides the two foregoing see Goldstaub und Wendriner, Ein tosco-venez. Bestiarius, Halle, 1892. Magliabech. IV, 63, 13th century, mutilated, 53 fols., bestiario moralizato, in Italian prose. E. Monaci, Rendiconti dell’ Accad. dei Lincei, Classe di scienze morali, storiche e filol., vol. V, fasc. 10 and 12, has edited a Bestiario in 64 sonetti on as many animals from a private MS at “Gubbio nell’ archivio degli avvocati Pietro e Oderisi Lucarelli,” MS 25, fols. 112-27. See also M. Garver and K. McKenzie, Il Bestiario Toscano secondo la lezione dei codice di Parigi e di Roma, in Studi romanzi, Rome, 1912; McKenzie, Unpublished Manuscripts of Italian Bestiaries, in Modern Language Publications, XX (1905), 2; and Garver, “Some Supplementary Italian Bestiary Chapters,” in Romanic Review, XI (1920), 308-27.

[2144] In addition to the two mentioned, check out Goldstaub and Wendriner, Ein toscoven. Bestiarius, Halle, 1892. Magliabech. IV, 63, 13th century, damaged, 53 pages, a moralized bestiary, in Italian prose. E. Monaci, Rendiconti dell’ Accad. dei Lincei, Classe di scienze morali, storiche e filol., vol. V, fasc. 10 and 12, has published a bestiary in 64 sonnets about as many animals from a private manuscript at “Gubbio nell’ archivio degli avvocati Pietro e Oderisi Lucarelli,” MS 25, fols. 112-27. Also see M. Garver and K. McKenzie, Il Bestiario Toscano secondo la lezione dei codice di Parigi e di Roma, in Studi romanzi, Rome, 1912; McKenzie, Unpublished Manuscripts of Italian Bestiaries, in Modern Language Publications, XX (1905), 2; and Garver, “Some Supplementary Italian Bestiary Chapters,” in Romanic Review, XI (1920), 308-27.

[2145] For instance, A. S. Cook, The Old English Elene, Phoenix, and Physiologus, Yale University Press, 364 pp., 1919.

[2145] For example, A. S. Cook, The Old English Elene, Phoenix, and Physiologus, Yale University Press, 364 pages, 1919.

[2146] K. Ahrens, Das “Buch der Naturgegenstände,” 1892.

[2146] K. Ahrens, The “Book of Natural Objects,” 1892.

[2147] Cod. Vind. Med. 29, τοῦ ἅγιου Ἐπιφανίου ἐπισκόπου Κύπρου περὶ τῆς λέξεως πάντων τῶν ζώων φυσιολόγος. In the edition of Ponce de Leon, Rome, 1587, there are twenty animals described, and the symbolic interpretation is very short compared to later versions. Heider (1850), p. 543, regarded this as the oldest version and as extant in complete form.

[2147] Cod. Vind. Med. 29, of Saint Epiphanius, Bishop of Cyprus, on the word of all animals, a naturalist. In the Ponce de Leon edition, Rome, 1587, twenty animals are described, and the symbolic interpretation is quite brief compared to later versions. Heider (1850), p. 543, considered this the oldest version and available in complete form.

[2148] Mansi, Concil., VIII, 151, “Liber Physiologus ab hereticis conscriptus et beati Ambrosii nomine presignatus apocryphus.”

[2148] Mansi, Concil., VIII, 151, “Physiologus book written by heretics and falsely attributed to Saint Ambrose.”

[2149] Heider (1850), II, 541-82, “Physiologus nach einer Handschrift des XI. Jahrhunderts”: the text opens at p. 552, “Incipiunt Dicta Johannis Chrysostomi de naturis bestiarum.” Lauchert used another MS, Vienna 303, 14th century, fol. 124v-, which was considerably different and was furthermore combined with the Physiologus of Theobald. An earlier MS than either of the foregoing is CLM 19417, 9th century, fols. 29-71, Liber Sancti Johannis episcopi regiae urbis Constantinopoli ... Crisostomi quem de naturis animalium ordinavit. Another Vienna MS is 2511, 14th century, fols. 135-40, “Incipiunt dicta Johannis Chrysostomi de naturis animalium et primo de leone .../ ... Sic erit et scriba doctus in regno celorum qui profert de thesauro suo noua et uetera. Expliciunt dicta Johannis Crisostomi.” A Paris MS of the same is BN 2780, 13th century, 14, Sancti Ioannis Chrysostomi liber qui physiologus appellatur.

[2149] Heider (1850), II, 541-82, “Physiologus after a manuscript from the 11th century”: the text starts on p. 552, “Here begin the sayings of John Chrysostom about the natures of beasts.” Lauchert used another manuscript, Vienna 303, 14th century, fol. 124v-, which was quite different and was also combined with Theobald's Physiologus. An earlier manuscript than either of the previous ones is CLM 19417, 9th century, fols. 29-71, Liber Sancti Johannis episcopi regiae urbis Constantinopoli ... Crisostomi quem de naturis animalium ordinavit. Another Vienna manuscript is 2511, 14th century, fols. 135-40, “Here begin the sayings of John Chrysostom about the natures of animals, starting with the lion .../ ... So shall the learned scribe be in the kingdom of heaven, who brings forth from his treasure new and old. The sayings of John Chrysostom conclude.” A Paris manuscript of the same is BN 2780, 13th century, 14, Sancti Ioannis Chrysostomi liber qui physiologus appellatur.

[2150] Additional 11,035, Johannis Scottigenae Phisiologiae liber. In the same MS are Macrobius’ Dream of Scipio and the poems of Prudentius.

[2150] Additional 11,035, Johannis Scottigenae Phisiologiae book. In the same manuscript are Macrobius’ Dream of Scipio and the poems of Prudentius.

[2151] De bestiis et aliis rebus, II, 1 (Migne, PL 177, 57). “Physici denique dicunt quinque naturales res sive naturas habere leonem....”

[2151] On Beasts and Other Things, II, 1 (Migne, PL 177, 57). "The physicists say that the lion has five natural properties or natures...”

[2152] Mineral., II, i, 1 (ed. Borgnet, V, 24).

[2152] Mineral., II, i, 1 (ed. Borgnet, V, 24).

[2153] Bubnov (1899), p. 372.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Bubnov (1899), p. 372.

[2154] Thus even Lauchert (1899), p. 105, admits that Bartholomew of England, the thirteenth century Latin encyclopedist, cites Physiologus for much which does not come from Physiologus.

[2154] So even Lauchert (1899), p. 105, acknowledges that Bartholomew of England, the thirteenth-century Latin encyclopedist, references Physiologus for a lot that doesn't actually come from Physiologus.

[2155] Goldstaub (1899-1901), p. 341.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Goldstaub (1899-1901), p. 341.

[2156] This and the preceding quotations in the paragraph are from Mâle (1913), pp. 48, 35, 49, 45.

[2156] This and the earlier quotes in the paragraph are from Mâle (1913), pp. 48, 35, 49, 45.

[2157] Goldstaub (1899-1901), pp. 350-1. The same statement could be made with equal truth of Vincent of Beauvais and Bartholomew of England.

[2157] Goldstaub (1899-1901), pp. 350-1. The same statement could be made with the same accuracy about Vincent of Beauvais and Bartholomew of England.

[2158] Hommel (1877), pp. xii, xv.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hommel (1877), pp. xii, xv.

[2159] Duhem, II (1914), 314, seems to me to have overestimated the significance of Confessions, V, 5, and De Genesi ad litteram, I, 19, in saying, “L’assurance avec laquelle les Basile, les Grégoire de Nysse, les Ambroise, les Jean Chrysostome opposaient aux enseignements de la Physique profane les naïves assertions de leur science puérile contristait fort l’Évêque de Hippone.” There is nothing, I think, to indicate that Augustine had these men or men of their stamp in mind, and I doubt if his scientific attainments were superior to Basil’s.

[2159] Duhem, II (1914), 314, seems to have overestimated the significance of Confessions, V, 5, and De Genesi ad litteram, I, 19, by saying, “The confidence with which Basil, Gregory of Nyssa, Ambrose, and John Chrysostom opposed the teachings of secular physics with the naive assertions of their childhood science greatly troubled the Bishop of Hippo.” I don't think there's any evidence that Augustine had these men or those like them in mind, and I doubt that his scientific knowledge was superior to Basil’s.

[2160] De consensu Evangelistarum, I, 11; in Migne, PL 34, 1049-50.

[2160] From the agreement of the Evangelists, I, 11; in Migne, PL 34, 1049-50.

[2161] Ibid., I, 9-10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., I, 9-10.

[2162] De civitate Dei, X, 9; PL vol. 41.

[2162] City of God, X, 9; PL vol. 41.

[2163] Ibid., VII, 34-35; and see Arnobius, Against the Heathen, V, 1, for Augustine’s probable source.

[2163] Ibid., VII, 34-35; and see Arnobius, Against the Heathen, V, 1, for Augustine’s likely source.

[2164] De civ. Dei, VIII, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ The City of God, VIII, 19.

[2165] Ibid., VIII, 18, 19, 26; IX, 1.

[2165] Same source, VIII, 18, 19, 26; IX, 1.

[2166] De civ. Dei, X, 9-10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the City of God, X, 9-10.

[2167] De trinitate, IV, 11; in Migne, PL 42, 897.

[2167] On the Trinity, IV, 11; in Migne, PL 42, 897.

[2168] De civ. Dei, X, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ The City of God, X, 9.

[2169] De civ. Dei, XXI, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ The City of God, XXI, 6.

[2170] In Grenoble 208, 12th century, containing works of Augustine, there is listed separately at fol. 54v, “De magis Pharaonis,” to which the MSS catalogue adds, “et de CLIII piscibus.” Probably it is an extract from one of Augustine’s longer works as it covers only one leaf.

[2170] In Grenoble 208, 12th century, containing works of Augustine, there is listed separately at fol. 54v, “De magis Pharaonis,” to which the MSS catalogue adds, “and about CLIII fish.” It’s likely an excerpt from one of Augustine’s longer works since it only spans a single leaf.

[2171] De trinitate, IV, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Trinity, IV, 11.

[2172] De diversis quaestionibus, cap. 79; Migne, PL 40, 92-3.

[2172] On Various Questions, cap. 79; Migne, PL 40, 92-3.

[2173] See also De cataclysmo (perhaps spurious), cap. 5, Migne, PL 40, 696; and Sermo VIII, PL 38, 74. Sermo XC, PL 38, 562, however, speaks of “Moyses et Aaron.”

[2173] See also De cataclysmo (possibly not authentic), chapter 5, Migne, PL 40, 696; and Sermo VIII, PL 38, 74. Sermo XC, PL 38, 562, however, mentions “Moyses and Aaron.”

[2174] De civ. Dei, XXI, 6; XVIII, 18.

[2174] Of the City of God, XXI, 6; XVIII, 18.

[2175] De diversis quaestionibus, cap. 79; De doctrina Christiana, II, 20, in Migne, PL 34, 50.

[2175] On Various Questions, ch. 79; On Christian Teaching, II, 20, in Migne, PL 34, 50.

[2176] Migne, PL 40, 581-92.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PL 40, 581-92.

[2177] De trinitate, III, 8; PL, 42, 875.

[2177] On the Trinity, III, 8; PL, 42, 875.

[2178] De trinitate, III, 7-8. It seems strange to me that they should have failed on minute insects who in ancient and medieval science are often represented as produced by spontaneous generation. The Talmudists also, however, state that the Egyptians were unable to duplicate the plague of lice, as their art did not extend to things smaller than a barleycorn.

[2178] De trinitate, III, 7-8. It seems strange to me that they would have missed tiny insects that in ancient and medieval science are often said to have come from spontaneous generation. The Talmudists also mention that the Egyptians couldn't replicate the plague of lice, as their methods didn’t cover anything smaller than a barleycorn.

[2179] De civitate Dei, XVIII, 22. In commenting on Genesis (PL 34, 445) he speaks even more harshly of “that absurd and harmful notion of the changing of souls and of men into beasts, or of beasts into men”; but perhaps he has reference to the doctrine of transmigration of souls rather than to magic transformations.

[2179] The City of God, XVIII, 22. In his commentary on Genesis (PL 34, 445), he criticizes even more strongly "that ridiculous and damaging idea of changing souls and humans into animals, or of animals into humans"; but he might be referring to the doctrine of reincarnation rather than to magical transformations.

[2180] Confessions, X, 42, in PL vol. 32.

[2180] Confessions, X, 42, in PL vol. 32.

[2181] Quaest. VI; PL 40, 162-5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Question VI; PL 40, 162-5.

[2182] II, 3; PL 40, 142-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 3; PL 40, 142-4.

[2183] De civitate Dei, XXI, 4-6; PL 41, 712-6.

[2183] The City of God, XXI, 4-6; PL 41, 712-6.

[2184] De Genesi ad litteram, XI, 28-9; PL 34, 444-5.

[2184] On the Literal Meaning of Genesis, XI, 28-9; PL 34, 444-5.

[2185] Confessions, X, 35; in PL vol. 32.

[2185] Confessions, X, 35; in PL vol. 32.

[2186] II, 20 and 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 20 and 29.

[2187] IV, 2-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ IV, 2-3.

[2188] PL 39, 2268-72.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ PL 39, 2268-72.

[2189] Sermo CXXX, PL 39, 2004-5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sermon CXXX, PL 39, 2004-5.

[2190] II, 21-3; PL 34, 51-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 21-3; PL 34, 51-3.

[2191] De civitate Dei, V, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ The City of God, V, 7.

[2192] Confessions, VII, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Confessions, VII, 6.

[2193] Unless otherwise noted, the ensuing arguments are found in The City of God, V, 1-7.

[2193] Unless stated otherwise, the following arguments can be found in The City of God, V, 1-7.

[2194] De Genesi ad litteram, II, 17; PL 34, 278. De diversis quaestionibus, cap. 45; PL 40, 28-9. Epistola 246; PL 33, 1061. Sermo 109; PL 38, 1027.

[2194] The Literal Meaning of Genesis, II, 17; PL 34, 278. On Various Questions, cap. 45; PL 40, 28-9. Letter 246; PL 33, 1061. Sermon 109; PL 38, 1027.

[2195] Confessions, IV, 2-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Confessions, IV, 2-3.

[2196] See below, chapter 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See chapter 24 below.

[2197] De Genesi ad litteram, XII, 22 and 17 and 12; PL 34, 472-3, 467-9, 464-5. See also the marvelous divinations of Albicerius recounted in Contra Academicos, I, 6; PL 32, 914-5.

[2197] On the Literal Meaning of Genesis, XII, 22 and 17 and 12; PL 34, 472-3, 467-9, 464-5. See also the amazing predictions of Albicerius described in Against the Academics, I, 6; PL 32, 914-5.

[2198] Sermones 199 and 374; PL 38, 1027-8, and 39, 1666. Contra Faustum, II, 15; PL 42, 212.

[2198] Sermones 199 and 374; PL 38, 1027-8, and 39, 1666. Contra Faustum, II, 15; PL 42, 212.

[2199] In Quaestiones ex Novo Testamento, Quaest. 63, PL 35, 2258, which is probably a spurious work but was cited as Augustine’s by Thomas Aquinas (Summa, III, 36, v), Balaam is said to have warned the Magi to watch for the star. It is also asserted, however, that “these Chaldean Magi watched the course of the stars, not from malevolence, but curiosity concerning nature” (Hi Magi chaldaei non malevolentia astrorum cursum sed rerum curiositate speculabantur).

[2199] In Questions from the New Testament, Quest. 63, PL 35, 2258, which is likely a fake work but was referenced as Augustine’s by Thomas Aquinas (Summa, III, 36, v), Balaam reportedly warned the Magi to look out for the star. It is also claimed, however, that “these Chaldean Magi observed the movement of the stars, not out of malice, but out of curiosity about nature” (Hi Magi chaldaei non malevolentia astrorum cursum sed rerum curiositate speculabantur).

[2200] Enchiridion, sive de fide, spe, et charitate, I, 58; PL 40, 259-60. De civitate Dei, XIII, 16; PL 41, 388. De Genesi ad litteram, II, 18; PL 34, 279-80.

[2200] Enchiridion, or on faith, hope, and charity, I, 58; PL 40, 259-60. The City of God, XIII, 16; PL 41, 388. On the Literal Meaning of Genesis, II, 18; PL 34, 279-80.

[2201] Orosii ad Augustinum Consultatio sive Commonitorium de errore Priscillianistarum et Origenistarum, PL 31, 1211-22; also in G. Schepss (1889), in CSEL XVIII. Augustini ad Orosium contra Priscillianistas et Origenistas, PL 41, 669, et seq. Augustine also discusses the Priscillianists in Epistle 237, PL 33, 1034, et seq., where he makes no charge either of magic or astrology against them.

[2201] Consultation from Orosius to Augustine or Reminder about the Errors of the Priscillianists and Origenists, PL 31, 1211-22; also in G. Schepss (1889), in CSEL XVIII. Augustine's Letter to Orosius Against the Priscillianists and Origenists, PL 41, 669, and following. Augustine also talks about the Priscillianists in Letter 237, PL 33, 1034, and following, where he does not accuse them of magic or astrology.

[2202] This charge was later repeated by St. Leo, Epistola XV; see Withington, History of Medicine, 1894, p. 178; but the offense would seem a trivial one in any case.

[2202] This accusation was later echoed by St. Leo, Epistola XV; see Withington, History of Medicine, 1894, p. 178; but the wrongdoing seems to be minor regardless.

[2203] De principiis, I, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Principles, I, 7.

[2204] De doctrina Christiana, II, 29, in Migne, 34, 57.

[2204] On Christian Doctrine, II, 29, in Migne, 34, 57.

[2205] De Genesi ad litteram, II, 16, in Migne, 34, 277.

[2205] On the Literal Meaning of Genesis, II, 16, in Migne, 34, 277.

[2206] De civitate Dei, XI, 30-31. He says about the same things concerning six and seven in De Genesi ad litteram, IV, 2.

[2206] On the City of God, XI, 30-31. He discusses similar points regarding six and seven in On the Literal Meaning of Genesis, IV, 2.

[2207] Sermo supposititius 21, in Migne, PL XXXIX, 1783, “De convenientia decem preceptorum et decem plagarum Egypti. Non est sine causa, fratres dilectissimi, quod preceptorum legis Dei numerus cum numero plagarum quibus Aegyptus percutitur exaequari videtur.”

[2207] Sermo supposititius 21, in Migne, PL XXXIX, 1783, “About the relationship between the ten commandments and the ten plagues of Egypt. There is a reason, beloved brothers, that the number of God's law's commandments seems to match the number of plagues by which Egypt is struck.”

[2208] Cambridge Medieval History, I, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cambridge Medieval History, Vol. I, 9.

[2209] The Greek work, Hermippus or Concerning Astrology, however, can no longer be regarded as an example of Christian belief in astrology at this period, since F. Boll, Heidelberger Akad. Sitzb., 1912, No. 18, has shown it to be a fourteenth century work of John Katrarios, who makes use of a Greek translation of Albumasar.

[2209] The Greek work, Hermippus or Concerning Astrology, can no longer be seen as an example of Christian belief in astrology from this time, since F. Boll, Heidelberger Akad. Sitzb., 1912, No. 18, has demonstrated it to be a fourteenth-century work by John Katrarios, who utilizes a Greek translation of Albumasar.

[2210] For bibliography see F. Boll’s “Firmicus” in PW. It does not include my article written subsequently on “A Roman Astrologer as a Historical Source: Julius Firmicus Maternus,” in Classical Philology, VIII, No. 4, pp. 415-35, October, 1913. For bibliography see also Kroll et Skutsch, II, xxxiv.

[2210] For bibliography see F. Boll’s “Firmicus” in PW. It doesn’t include my later article on “A Roman Astrologer as a Historical Source: Julius Firmicus Maternus,” in Classical Philology, VIII, No. 4, pp. 415-35, October, 1913. For bibliography see also Kroll et Skutsch, II, xxxiv.

[2211] The edition of De errore profanarum religionum by K. Ziegler, Leipzig, 1907, is more critical than that in Migne, PL.

[2211] The edition of De errore profanarum religionum by K. Ziegler, Leipzig, 1907, is more critical than the one in Migne, PL.

[2212] Iulii Firmici Materni Matheseos Libri VIII, ed. W. Kroll et F. Skutsch, Fasciculus prior libros IV priores et quinti prooemium continens, Leipzig, 1897; Fasciculus alter libros IV posteriores cum praefatione et indicibus continens, 1913. My references will be by page and line to this text, unless otherwise noted. Earlier editions, which I used for the later books before 1913, are the editio princeps, Julius Firmicus de nativitatibus, ... Impressum Venetiis per Symonem papiensem dictum bivilaqua, 1497 die 13 Iunii, cxv fols.; the Aldine edition of 1499 containing apparent interpolations, Julii Firmici Astronomicorum libri octo integri et emendati ex Scythicis oris ad nos nuper allati....; and the Basel editions of 1533 and 1551 by M. Pruckner which reproduce the Aldine text. See Kroll et Skutsch, II, xxxiii, for another reproduction of the Aldine text, printed in 1503, and p. xxviii for a partial edition of books 3-5 of the Mathesis in 1488 and 1494 in Opus Astrolabii plani ... a Iohanne Angeli.

[2212] Matheseos Libri VIII by Iulius Firmicus Maternus, edited by W. Kroll and F. Skutsch, Fasciculus prior: containing the first four books and the preface to the fifth, Leipzig, 1897; Fasciculus alter: containing the last four books with a preface and indexes, 1913. I will reference this text by page and line unless stated otherwise. For the later books before 1913, I used earlier editions, including the editio princeps, Julius Firmicus de nativitatibus, ... Printed in Venice by Simonius Papiensem known as Bivilaqua, June 13, 1497, cxv fols.; the 1499 Aldine edition containing obvious interpolations, Julii Firmici Astronomicorum libri octo integri et emendati ex Scythicis oris ad nos nuper allati....; and the Basel editions of 1533 and 1551 by M. Pruckner, which reproduce the Aldine text. See Kroll and Skutsch, II, xxxiii, for another reproduction of the Aldine text printed in 1503, and p. xxviii for a partial edition of books 3-5 of the Mathesis in 1488 and 1494 in Opus Astrolabii plani ... by Iohannes Angeli.

[2213] Kroll et Skutsch, I, 3, 27.

[2213] Kroll and Skutsch, I, 3, 27.

[2214] Boll in PW, VI, 2365.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Boll in PW, VI, 2365.

[2215] Hermes, XXIX, 468-72. The treatise could not have been composed before 334 since Firmicus (I, 13, 23) refers to an eclipse in the consulship of Optatus and Paulinus which occurred in that year.

[2215] Hermes, XXIX, 468-72. The treatise couldn't have been written before 334 since Firmicus (I, 13, 23) mentions an eclipse during the consulship of Optatus and Paulinus, which happened that year.

[2216] For instance, at I, 37, 25, “Constantinus scilicet maximus divi Constantini filius,” might as well be rendered, “Constantius, son of Constantine,” as “Constantine, son of Constantius.”

[2216] For example, at I, 37, 25, “Constantinus scilicet maximus divi Constantini filius” can be translated as “Constantius, son of Constantine,” just as easily as “Constantine, son of Constantius.”

[2217] I, 1, 3, “Olim tibi hos libellos, Mavorti decus nostrum, me dicaturum esse promiseram verum diu me inconstantia verecundiae retardavit.”

[2217] I, 1, 3, “Once, I promised you these little books, our glory, Mavortius, I said I would speak the truth, but my hesitation out of modesty has held me back for a long time.”

[2218] I, 195-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 195-6.

[2219] Ammianus Marcellinus, XVI, 8, 5, “iubetur Mavortius, tunc praefectus praetorio, vir sublimis constantiae, crimen acri inquisitione spectari.”

[2219] Ammianus Marcellinus, XVI, 8, 5, “Mavortius, who was the prefect of the palace at the time, a man of great strength and determination, is ordered to scrutinize the crime with a sharp investigation.”

[2220] Ziegler, p. 7, “Physica ratio quam dicis, alio genere celetur”; p. 9, “quod dicant physica ratione conpositum.”

[2220] Ziegler, p. 7, “The physical reasoning you mention is hidden in a different form”; p. 9, “which they say is composed according to physical reasoning.”

[2221] Ziegler, p. 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ziegler, p. 5.

[2222] Ziegler, p. 23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ziegler, p. 23.

[2223] Kroll et Skutsch, I, 86, 12-21.

[2223] Kroll and Skutsch, I, 86, 12-21.

[2224] Ziegler, pp. 15, 38, 39, 64, 67, 81, 82, “sacratissimi imperatores”; pp. 31, 40, “sacrosancti principes”; p. 65, “sanctarum aurium vestrarum.”

[2224] Ziegler, pp. 15, 38, 39, 64, 67, 81, 82, “most holy emperors”; pp. 31, 40, “sacred princes”; p. 65, “of your holy ears.”

[2225] Ziegler, pp. 53-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ziegler, pp. 53-54.

[2226] Kroll et Skutsch, I, 17-18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Kroll and Skutsch, I, 17-18.

[2227] See my “A Roman Astrologer as a Historical Source,” Classical Philology, VIII, 415-35, especially p. 421.

[2227] Check out my “A Roman Astrologer as a Historical Source,” Classical Philology, VIII, 415-35, especially p. 421.

[2228] I, 16, 20, “Summo illi ac rectori deo, qui omnia perpetua legis dispositione composuit....”

[2228] I, 16, 20, “To the highest God and ruler, who has arranged everything through eternal law....”

[2229] I, 16, 14; I, 57, 2; I, 90, 11, to 91, 10.

[2229] I, 16, 14; I, 57, 2; I, 90, 11, to 91, 10.

[2230] I, 280, 2-28.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 280, 2-28.

[2231] Besides the prayer just quoted, see I, 18, 10-13. See also the long prayer at the end of the first book to the planets and supreme God for the successful continuance of the dynasty of Constantine.

[2231] In addition to the prayer mentioned, see I, 18, 10-13. Also, refer to the lengthy prayer at the end of the first book addressed to the planets and the supreme God for the successful continuation of the Constantine dynasty.

[2232] I, 18, 25-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 18, 25-9.

[2233] I, 85-89 (Book II, chapter 30).

[2233] I, 85-89 (Book II, chapter 30).

[2234] I, 17, 2-23.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 17, 2/23.

[2235] I, 10, 3-.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 10, 3-.

[2236] I, 11, 7-.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 11, 7-.

[2237] Book I, Chapter 4 (I, 11-15).

[2237] Book I, Chapter 4 (I, 11-15).

[2238] Book I, Chapter 7 (I, 19-30).

[2238] Book I, Chapter 7 (I, 19-30).

[2239] For a fuller exposition of this quantitative method of source-analysis and the results obtained thereby see Thorndike (1913), pp. 415-35.

[2239] For a more detailed explanation of this quantitative method of source analysis and the results achieved, see Thorndike (1913), pp. 415-35.

[2240] Temple-robbers, 5; servile or ignoble employ in temples, 5; spending one’s time in temples, 4; builders of temples, 3; beneficiaries of temples, 3; temple guards, 2; neocori, 3; and so on, making 35 references to temples in all. It is perhaps worth remarking that H. O. Taylor, The Classical Heritage, 1901, p. 80, notes that Synesius about 400 A. D. speaks of the Christian churches at Constantinople as “temples.”

[2240] Temple robbers, 5; lowly or dishonorable jobs in temples, 5; spending one's time in temples, 4; temple builders, 3; temple beneficiaries, 3; temple guards, 2; neocori, 3; and so on, with a total of 35 references to temples. It's worth mentioning that H. O. Taylor, The Classical Heritage, 1901, p. 80, points out that Synesius, around 400 A.D., refers to the Christian churches in Constantinople as “temples.”

[2241] Chief priests, 5; priests, 9; of provinces, 1; priestess, 1; priests of Cybele (archigalli), 3; Asiarchae, 1; priest of some great goddess, 1; illicit rites, 1. There are 27 passages concerning divination.

[2241] Chief priests, 5; priests, 9; of provinces, 1; priestess, 1; priests of Cybele (archigalli), 3; Asiarchae, 1; priest of some great goddess, 1; illicit rites, 1. There are 27 passages about divination.

[2242] Kroll et Skutsch, I, 148, 8 and 123, 4.

[2242] Kroll and Skutsch, I, 148, 8 and 123, 4.

[2243] Kroll et Skutsch, I, 201, 6.

[2243] Kroll and Skutsch, I, 201, 6.

[2244] Cumont says (Oriental Religions in Roman Paganism, p. 188): “But the ancients expressly distinguished ‘magic,’ which was always under suspicion and disapproved of, from the legitimate and honorable art for which the name ‘theurgy’ was invented.” This distinction was made by Porphyry and others, and is alluded to by Augustine in the City of God, but it is to be noted that Firmicus does not use the word “theurgy.” Cumont also states (p. 179) that in the last period of paganism the name philosopher was finally applied to all adepts in occult science. But in Firmicus, while magic and philosophy are associated in two passages, there are five other allusions to magic and three separate mentions of philosophers.

[2244] Cumont says (Oriental Religions in Roman Paganism, p. 188): “However, the ancients clearly differentiated ‘magic,’ which was always viewed with suspicion and disapproved of, from the legitimate and respected practice that came to be known as ‘theurgy.’” This distinction was recognized by Porphyry and others and is mentioned by Augustine in the City of God, but it's important to note that Firmicus does not use the term “theurgy.” Cumont also points out (p. 179) that by the final phase of paganism, the title philosopher was ultimately given to all practitioners of occult sciences. However, in Firmicus, while magic and philosophy are connected in two instances, there are five other references to magic and three separate mentions of philosophers.

[2245] Kroll et Skutsch, I, 161, 26.

[2245] Kroll et Skutsch, I, 161, 26.

[2246] Computus, 3; calculus, 2; and “those who excel at numbers,” 1.

[2246] Computus, 3; calculus, 2; and “people who are great with numbers,” 1.

[2247] Including two mentions of court physicians (archiatri). See Codex Theod., Lib. XIII, Tit. 3, passim, for their position.

[2247] Including two mentions of court physicians (archiatri). See Codex Theod., Lib. XIII, Tit. 3, passim, for their position.

[2248] I leave this sentence as I wrote it in 1913.

[2248] I'm leaving this sentence as I wrote it in 1913.

[2249] Aestus animi, 5; insanity, 13; lunatics, 10; epileptics, 8; melancholia, 3; inflammation of the brain (frenetici), 4; delirium, dementia, demoniacs, alienation, and madness, one or two each; vague allusions to mental ills and injuries, 5.

[2249] Aestus animi, 5; madness, 13; lunatics, 10; epileptics, 8; depression, 3; brain inflammation (frenetici), 4; delirium, dementia, demonic possession, disconnection, and madness, one or two of each; vague references to mental disorders and trauma, 5.

[2250] In his last chapter he says, “Take then, my dear Mavortius, what I promised you with extreme trepidation of spirit, these seven books composed conformably to the order and number of the seven planets. For the first book deals only with the defense of the art; but in the other books we have transmitted to the Romans the discipline of a new work,” (II, 360, 10-15). And in the introduction to the fifth book he writes, “We have written these books for your Romans lest, when every other art and science had been translated, this task should seem to remain unattempted by Roman genius,” (I, 280, 28-30).

[2250] In his final chapter he writes, “So, my dear Mavortius, here are the seven books I promised you, with a lot of nervousness. They follow the order and number of the seven planets. The first book focuses solely on defending the craft; in the other books, we’ve shared with the Romans the principles of a new endeavor,” (II, 360, 10-15). And in the introduction to the fifth book, he states, “We’ve written these books for you Romans so that, when all other arts and sciences have been translated, it won’t appear that this task was left untouched by Roman creativity,” (I, 280, 28-30).

[2251] I, 41, 7 and 15; I, 40, 9-11.

[2251] I, 41, 7 and 15; I, 40, 9-11.

[2252] I, 41, 5 and 11; I, 40, 8.

[2252] I, 41, 5 and 11; I, 40, 8.

[2253] They are listed by Kroll et Skutsch, II, 362, Index auctorum.

[2253] They are listed by Kroll et Skutsch, II, 362, Index auctorum.

[2254] II, 294, 12-21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 294, 12-21.

[2255] Kroll et Skutsch, II, p. iii.

[2255] Kroll and Skutsch, II, p. iii.

[2256] I, 258, 10, “in singulari libro, quem de domino geniturae et chronocratore ad Murinum nostrum scripsimus”; II, 229, 23, “exeo libro qui de fine vitae a nobis scriptus est.”

[2256] I, 258, 10, "in a unique book, which we wrote about the Lord of birth and the chronocrator to our Murinus"; II, 229, 23, "from that book which we wrote about the end of life."

[2257] II, 18, 24; II, 283, 19.

[2257] II, 18, 24; II, 283, 19.

[2258] Engelbrecht, Hephästion von Theben und sein astrologisches Compendium, Vienna, 1887.

[2258] Engelbrecht, Hephästion of Thebes and His Astrological Compendium, Vienna, 1887.

[2259] De vita sua, in Libanii sophistae praeludia oratoria LXXII declamationes XLV et dissertationes morales, Federicus Morellus regius interpres e MSS maxime reg. bibliothecae nunc primum edidit idemque Latine vertit ... ad Henricum IV regem Christianissimum, Paris, 1606, II, 15-18.

[2259] On His Life, in The Oratorical Preludes of Libanius, 72 Declarations, 45, and Moral Essays by Federicus Morellus, the royal interpreter from the best manuscripts of the royal library, published for the first time by him and also translated into Latin ... to Henry IV, the Most Christian King, Paris, 1606, II, 15-18.

[2260] Magi accusatio, Ibid., I, 898-911.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Magi accusation, Ibid., I, 898-911.

[2261] De vita sua, Opera, II, 2-3.

[2261] On His Life, Works, II, 2-3.

[2262] X, 196, 11, De sepulcro incantato.

[2262] X, 196, 11, From the Enchanted Tomb.

[2263] My citations of Synesius’ works, unless otherwise noted, are from the edition: Synesii Cyrenaei Quae Extant Opera Omnia, ed. J. G. Krabinger, Landshut, 1850, vol. I, which has alone appeared. The older edition of Petavius with Latin translation is reprinted in Migne PG, vol. 66, 1021-1756. For a French translation, with several introductory essays, see H. Druon, Œuvres de Synésius, Paris, 1878. The Letters and Hymns have often been published separately. For this and other further bibliography see Christ, Gesch. d. griech. Litt., 1913, II, ii, 1167-71, where, however, no note is taken of Berthelot’s discussion of Synesius as a reputed author of alchemistic treatises.

[2263] My references to Synesius' works, unless stated otherwise, come from the edition: Synesii Cyrenaei Quae Extant Opera Omnia, edited by J. G. Krabinger, Landshut, 1850, vol. I, which is the only edition published. The earlier edition by Petavius with Latin translation is reprinted in Migne PG, vol. 66, 1021-1756. For a French translation that includes several introductory essays, see H. Druon, Œuvres de Synésius, Paris, 1878. The Letters and Hymns have often been published separately. For additional bibliography on this topic, see Christ, Gesch. d. griech. Litt., 1913, II, ii, 1167-71, though it does not mention Berthelot’s discussion of Synesius as a likely author of alchemical treatises.

Some works on Synesius are: H. Druon, Études sur la vie et les œuvres de Synésius, Paris, 1859; R. Volkmann, Synesius von Cyrene, Berlin, 1869; W. S. Crawford, Synesius the Hellene, London, 1901; G. Grützmacher, Synesios von Kyrene, Leipzig, 1913. In periodicals: F. X. Kraus in Theol. Quartalschrift, 1865 and 1866; O. Seeck, in Philologus, 1893.

Some works on Synesius are: H. Druon, Études sur la vie et les œuvres de Synésius, Paris, 1859; R. Volkmann, Synesius von Cyrene, Berlin, 1869; W. S. Crawford, Synesius the Hellene, London, 1901; G. Grützmacher, Synesios von Kyrene, Leipzig, 1913. In periodicals: F. X. Kraus in Theol. Quartalschrift, 1865 and 1866; O. Seeck, in Philologus, 1893.

[2264] See Crawford, op. cit., and monographs listed in Christ, op. cit., p. 1168, notes 4 and 8.

[2264] See Crawford, op. cit., and monographs listed in Christ, op. cit., p. 1168, notes 4 and 8.

[2265] The date is variously stated as 411, 406, or 410.

[2265] The date is mentioned as 411, 406, or 410.

[2266] A. J. Kleffner, Synesius von Cyrene ... und sein angeblicher Vorbehalt bei seiner Wahl und Weihe zum Bischof von Ptolemais, Paderborn, 1901. H. Koch, Synesius von Cyrene bei seiner Wahl und Weihe zum Bischof, in Hist. Jahrb., XXIII (1902), pp. 751-74.

[2266] A. J. Kleffner, Synesius of Cyrene ... and His Alleged Reservation During His Election and Ordination as Bishop of Ptolemais, Paderborn, 1901. H. Koch, Synesius of Cyrene at His Election and Ordination as Bishop, in Hist. Jahrb., XXIII (1902), pp. 751-74.

[2267] Christ, op. cit., p. 1168, note 1.

[2267] Christ, op. cit., p. 1168, note 1.

[2268] Ibid., p. 1170, citing K. Prächter, in Genethliakon für C. Robert, 1910, p. 244, et seq.

[2268] Same source, p. 1170, quoting K. Prächter, in Birthday Book for C. Robert, 1910, p. 244, and following pages.

[2269] Περὶ ἐνυπνίων (On dreams), ch. 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Dreams, ch. 2.

[2270] Περὶ ἐνυπνίων (On Dreams), ch. 3. Ἔδει γὰρ, οἶμαι, τοῦ παντὸς τούτου συμπαθοῦς τε ὄντος καὶ σύμπνου τὰ μέρη προσήκειν ἀλλήλοις, ἅτε ἑνὸς ὅλου τὰ μέλη τυγχάνοντα. Καὶ μή ποτε αἱ μάγων ἴυγγες αὗται; καὶ γὰρ θέλγεται παρ’ ἀλλήλων, ὥσπερ σημαίνεται· καὶ σοφὸς ὁ εἰδὼς τὴν τῶν μερῶν τοῦ κόσμου συγγένειαν. Ἕλκει γὰρ ἄλλο δί’ ἄλλον, ἔχων ἐνέχυρα παρόντα τῶν πλεῖστον ἀπόντων, καὶ φωνὰς, καὶ ὕλας καὶ σχήματα.... Evidently
Synesius did not regard the magi as mere imposters.

[2270] Περὶ ἐνυπνίων (On Dreams), ch. 3. I believe that since everything is connected and works together, the parts should relate to one another, just like the parts of a whole. And could these be the incantations of magicians? They certainly enchant each other, as it’s indicated; and a wise person understands the relationships among the parts of the universe. One thing attracts another, having bonds present among most that are absent, along with voices, materials, and shapes.... Clearly
Synesius did not regard the magi as mere imposters.

[2271] Περὶ ἐνυπνίων, ch. 3. Καὶ δὴ καὶ θεῷ τινὶ τῶν εἴσω τοῦ κόσμου λίθος ἐνθένδε καὶ βοτάνη προσήκει, οἷς ὁμοιοπαθῶν εἴκει τῇ φύσει καὶ γοητεύεται. In his Praise of Baldness (Φαλάκρας ἐγκώμιον), ch. 10, Synesius tells how the Egyptians attract demons by magic influences.

[2271] Regarding dreams, ch. 3. And indeed, a certain deity within the cosmos is associated with a stone and a plant from here, to which those who are similar in nature and are enchanted. In his Praise of Baldness (Φαλάκρας ἐγκώμιον), ch. 10, Synesius explains how the Egyptians attract demons through magical influences.

[2272] Περὶ ἐνυπνίων, ch. 1. Αὗται μὲν ἀποδείξεις ἔστων τοῦ μαντείαν ἐν τοῖς ἀρίστοις εἶναι τῶν ἐπιτηδευομένων ἀνθρώποις.

[2272] On Dreams, ch. 1. These are indeed proofs that prophecy is among the highest pursuits of humankind.

[2273] Ibid., ch. 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., ch. 18.

[2274] Δίων ἢ περὶ τῆς κατ’ αὐτὸν διαγωγῆς.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Diogenes: About His Lifestyle.

[2275] Φαλάκρας ἐγκώμιον, ch. 10.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Baldness praise, ch. 10.

[2276] Αἰγύπτιοι ἢ περὶ προνοίας, bk. ii, ch. 7.

[2276] Egyptians or about providence, bk. ii, ch. 7.

[2277] Πρὸς Παιόνιον περὶ τοῦ δώρου, ch. 5.

[2277] About the gift to Paeon, ch. 5.

[2278] Δίων, ch. 7. Περὶ ἐνυπνίων, ch. 4. Ἐπιστολαί, 4, 49, and 142.

[2278] Dions, ch. 7. About Dreams, ch. 4. Letters, 4, 49, and 142.

[2279] On Synesius as an alchemist see Berthelot (1885), pp. 65, 188-90; (1889), p. ix.

[2279] On Synesius as an alchemist see Berthelot (1885), pp. 65, 188-90; (1889), p. ix.

[2280] T. R. Glover, Life and Letters in the Fourth Century A. D., Cambridge, 1901, p. 187, note 1.

[2280] T. R. Glover, Life and Letters in the Fourth Century A. D., Cambridge, 1901, p. 187, note 1.

[2281] Saturnalia, I, xvi, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Saturnalia, I, 16, 12.

[2282] Commentary on the Dream of Scipio, II, 17, “Universa philosophiae integritas”; ed. Nisard, Paris, 1883.

[2282] Commentary on the Dream of Scipio, II, 17, “The complete integrity of philosophy”; ed. Nisard, Paris, 1883.

[2283] Ibid., I, 5-6; II, 1-2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., I, 5-6; II, 1-2.

[2284] Ibid., I, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 1, 7.

[2285] Ibid., I, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., I, 19.

[2286] Ibid., I, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 1, 14.

[2287] Glover (1901), p. 178.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Glover (1901), p. 178.

[2288] De nuptiis philologiae et mercurii et de septem artibus liberalibus libri novem, Lugduni apud haeredes Simonis Vincentii, 1539; ed. U. F. Kopp, Frankfurt, 1836; ed. F. Eyssenhardt, Leipzig, 1866.

[2288] On the Marriage of Philology and Mercury and on the Seven Liberal Arts Nine Books, Lyon, published by the heirs of Simon Vincent, 1539; ed. U. F. Kopp, Frankfurt, 1836; ed. F. Eyssenhardt, Leipzig, 1866.

[2289] It occurs toward the close of the second book.

[2289] It happens toward the end of the second book.

[2290] In Kopp’s edition pp. 202-23 are almost entirely taken up with notes setting forth other passages in the classics concerning such spirits.

[2290] In Kopp’s edition, pages 202-23 are almost completely filled with notes highlighting other passages in classic texts related to such spirits.

[2291] Greek text in Migne, PG 3, 119-370.

[2291] Greek text in Migne, PG 3, 119-370.

[2292] Migne, PL 122, 1037-70.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PL 122, 1037-70.

[2293] The following bibliography includes the editions of the texts concerned and the chief critical researches in the field. A. Ausfeld, Zur Kritik des griechischen Alexanderromans; Untersuchungen über die unechten Teile der ältesten Ueberlieferung, Karlsruhe, 1894. A. Ausfeld and W. Kroll, Der griechische Alexanderroman, Leipzig, 1907. H. Becker, Die Brahmannen in der Alexandersage, Königsberg, 1889, 34 pp. E. A. W. Budge, History of Alexander the Great, Cambridge University Press, 1889; the Syriac version of the Pseudo-Callisthenes edited from five MSS, with an English translation and notes. E. A. W. Budge, The Life and Exploits of Alexander the Great, Cambridge University Press, 1896; Ethiopic Histories of Alexander by the Pseudo-Callisthenes and other writers. D. Carrarioli, La leggenda di Alessandro Magno, 1892. G. G. Cillié, De Iulii Valerii epitoma Oxoniensi, Strasburg, 1905. G. Favre, Recherches sur les histoires fabuleuses d’Alexandre le Grand, in Mélanges d’hist. litt., II (1856), 5-184. Ethé, Alexanders Zug zur Lebensquelle im Lande der Finsterniss, in Atti dell’ Accademia di Monaco, 1871. B. Kübler, Julius Valerius; Res gestae Alexandri Macedonis, Leipzig, 1888 (see pp. xxv-xxvi for further bibliography). Levi, La légende d’Alexandre dans le Talmud, in Revue des Études juives, I (1880), 293-300. Meusel, Pseudo-Callisthenes nach der Leidener Handschrift herausgegeben, Leipzig, 1871. M. P. H. Meyer, Alexandre le Grand dans la littérature française du moyen âge, 2 vols., Paris, 1886. C. Müller, Scriptores rerum Alexandri Magni, Firmin-Didot, Paris, 1846 and 1877 (bound with Arrian, ed. Fr. Dübner); the first edition of the Greek text of the Pseudo-Callisthenes from three Paris MSS, also Julius Valerius, etc. Noeldeke, Beiträge zur Geschichte des Alexanderromans, Denkschriften der Kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften in Wien, Philos. Hist. Classe, vol. 38, Vienna, 1890; Budge says of this work, “Professor Noeldeke discusses in his characteristic masterly manner the Greek, Syriac, Hebrew, Persian, and Arabic versions, and ably shows how each is related to the other, and how certain variations in the narrative have arisen. No other writer before him was able to control, by knowledge at first hand, the statements of both the Aryan and Semitic versions; his work is therefore of unique value.” Padmuthiun Acheksandri Maketonazwui, I Wenedig i dparani serbuin Chazaru, Hami, 1842; the Armenian version published by the Mechitarists, Venice, 1842. F. Pfister, Kleine Texte zum Alexanderroman, Heidelberg, 1910; Sammlung vulgärlateinischer Texte herausg. v. W. Heraeus u. H. Morf, 4 Heft. Spiegel, Die Alexandersage bei den Orientalen, Leipzig, 1851. Vogelstein, Adnotationes quaedam ex litteris orientalibus petitae quae de Alexandro Magno circumferuntur, Warsaw, 1865. A. Westermann, De Callisthene Olynthio et Pseudo-Callisthene Commentatio, 1838-1842. J. Zacher, Pseudo-Callisthenes: Forschungen zur Kritik und Geschichte der ältesten Aufzeichnung der Alexandersage, Halle, 1867 (see pp. 2-3 for further bibliography of works written before 1851). J. Zacher, Julii Valerii Epitome, zum ersten mal herausgegeben, Halle, 1867.

[2293] The following bibliography includes the editions of the texts discussed and the main critical research in the field. A. Ausfeld, Zur Kritik des griechischen Alexanderromans; Untersuchungen über die unechten Teile der ältesten Ueberlieferung, Karlsruhe, 1894. A. Ausfeld and W. Kroll, Der griechische Alexanderroman, Leipzig, 1907. H. Becker, Die Brahmannen in der Alexander sage, Königsberg, 1889, 34 pp. E. A. W. Budge, History of Alexander the Great, Cambridge University Press, 1889; the Syriac version of the Pseudo-Callisthenes edited from five manuscripts, with an English translation and notes. E. A. W. Budge, The Life and Exploits of Alexander the Great, Cambridge University Press, 1896; Ethiopic Histories of Alexander by the Pseudo-Callisthenes and other writers. D. Carrarioli, La leggenda di Alessandro Magno, 1892. G. G. Cillié, De Iulii Valerii epitoma Oxoniensi, Strasburg, 1905. G. Favre, Recherches sur les histoires fabuleuses d’Alexandre le Grand, in Mélanges d’hist. litt., II (1856), 5-184. Ethé, Alexanders Zug zur Lebensquelle im Lande der Finsterniss, in Atti dell’ Accademia di Monaco, 1871. B. Kübler, Julius Valerius; Res gestae Alexandri Macedonis, Leipzig, 1888 (see pp. xxv-xxvi for further bibliography). Levi, La légende d’Alexandre dans le Talmud, in Revue des Études juives, I (1880), 293-300. Meusel, Pseudo-Callisthenes nach der Leidener Handschrift herausgegeben, Leipzig, 1871. M. P. H. Meyer, Alexandre le Grand dans la littérature française du moyen âge, 2 vols., Paris, 1886. C. Müller, Scriptores rerum Alexandri Magni, Firmin-Didot, Paris, 1846 and 1877 (bound with Arrian, ed. Fr. Dübner); the first edition of the Greek text of the Pseudo-Callisthenes from three Paris manuscripts, also Julius Valerius, etc. Noeldeke, Beiträge zur Geschichte des Alexanderromans, Denkschriften der Kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften in Wien, Philos. Hist. Classe, vol. 38, Vienna, 1890; Budge says of this work, “Professor Noeldeke discusses in his characteristic masterly manner the Greek, Syriac, Hebrew, Persian, and Arabic versions, and skillfully shows how each is related to the other, and how certain variations in the narrative have come about. No other writer before him was able to control, by firsthand knowledge, the statements of both the Aryan and Semitic versions; his work is therefore of unique value.” Padmuthiun Acheksandri Maketonazwui, I Wenedig i dparani serbuin Chazaru, Hami, 1842; the Armenian version published by the Mechitarists, Venice, 1842. F. Pfister, Kleine Texte zum Alexander roman, Heidelberg, 1910; Sammlung vulgärlateinischer Texte herausg. v. W. Heraeus u. H. Morf, 4 Heft. Spiegel, Die Alexandersage bei den Orientalen, Leipzig, 1851. Vogelstein, Adnotationes quaedam ex litteris orientalibus petitae quae de Alexandro Magno circumferuntur, Warsaw, 1865. A. Westermann, De Callisthene Olynthio et Pseudo-Callisthene Commentatio, 1838-1842. J. Zacher, Pseudo-Callisthenes: Forschungen zur Kritik und Geschichte der ältesten Aufzeichnung der Alexandersage, Halle, 1867 (see pp. 2-3 for further bibliography of works written before 1851). J. Zacher, Julii Valerii Epitome, zum ersten mal herausgegeben, Halle, 1867.

[2294] Hexaemeron, VI, 7. On the other hand, Augustine, De civitate dei, V, 6-7, alludes to the sage who selected a certain hour for intercourse with his wife in order that he might beget a marvelous son.

[2294] Hexaemeron, VI, 7. On the other hand, Augustine, De civitate dei, V, 6-7, refers to the wise man who chose a specific time for intimacy with his wife so that he could father an extraordinary son.

[2295] Seneca in the Natural Questions (VI, 23) called the death of Callisthenes “the eternal crime” of Alexander which all his military victories and conquests could not outweigh,—a passage which did not keep Nero from forcing Seneca to commit suicide.

[2295] Seneca in the Natural Questions (VI, 23) referred to the death of Callisthenes as “the eternal crime” of Alexander, which couldn’t be overshadowed by any of his military victories and conquests—a statement that didn’t stop Nero from compelling Seneca to take his own life.

[2296] Reitzenstein, Poimandres, Leipzig, 1904, pp. 308-309.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Reitzenstein, *Poimandres*, Leipzig, 1904, pp. 308-309.

[2297] Res gestae of Alexander of Macedon, contained in three MSS of the Royal Library in the British Museum, dating according to the catalogue from the eleventh and twelfth centuries: Royal 13-A-I, Royal 12-C-IV, and Royal 15-C-VI, are not the full text of Julius Valerius, but the epitome of which I shall soon speak.

[2297] The deeds of Alexander of Macedon, found in three manuscripts from the Royal Library in the British Museum, which according to the catalog are from the eleventh and twelfth centuries: Royal 13-A-I, Royal 12-C-IV, and Royal 15-C-VI, are not the complete text of Julius Valerius, but rather the summary I will discuss shortly.

[2298] The longer epitome is known from an Oxford MS, Corpus Christi MS 82, and was believed by Meyer to be intermediary between Valerius and the other briefer epitome. Cillié, however, tries to prove the shorter epitome to be the older.

[2298] The longer summary comes from an Oxford manuscript, Corpus Christi MS 82, and Meyer believed it to be a link between Valerius and the other shorter summary. However, Cillié attempts to demonstrate that the shorter summary is actually the older one.

[2299] Alexandri Magni Epistola ad Aristotelem de mirabilibus Indiae, first printed with Synesii Epistolae, graece; adcedunt aliorum Epistolae, Venice, 1499; then Bologna, 1501; Basel, 1517; Paris, 1520, fols. 102v-14v, following the Pseudo-Aristotle, Secret of Secrets; etc. These early printed editions give the oldest Latin text, dating back as we have seen to at least 800.

[2299] Letter from Alexander the Great to Aristotle about the Wonders of India, first printed with Letters of Synesius, in Greek; Other Letters are included, Venice, 1499; then Bologna, 1501; Basel, 1517; Paris, 1520, pages 102v-14v, following the Pseudo-Aristotle, Secret of Secrets; etc. These early printed editions provide the oldest Latin text, which, as we've noted, dates back to at least 800.

Some MSS of the same version are:

Some manuscripts of the same version are:

BM Royal 13-A-I, fols. 51v-78r, a beautifully clear MS of the late 11th century with clubbed strokes. The Epistola is preceded by the Epitome of Valerius and followed by the correspondence with Dindimus.

BM Royal 13-A-I, fols. 51v-78r, a beautifully clear manuscript from the late 11th century with distinctive clubbed strokes. The Epistola is preceded by the Epitome of Valerius and followed by the correspondence with Dindimus.

Royal 12-C-IV, 12th century.

Royal 12-C-IV, 12th century.

Royal 15-C-VI, 12th century.

Royal 15-C-VI, 12th century.

Cotton Nero D VIII, fol. 169.

Cotton Nero D VIII, fol. 169.

Sloane 1619, 13th century, fols. 12-17.

Sloane 1619, 13th century, fols. 12-17.

Arundel 242, 15th century, fols. 160-83.

Arundel 242, 15th century, folios 160-183.

BL Laud. Misc. 247, 12th century, fol. 186; preceded at fol. 171 by the “Ortus vita et obitus Alexandri Macedonis,” and followed at fol. 196v by the letter to Dindimus.

BL Laud. Misc. 247, 12th century, fol. 186; preceded at fol. 171 by the “Ortus vita et obitus Alexandri Macedonis,” and followed at fol. 196v by the letter to Dindimus.

BN MSS 2874, 4126, 4877, 4880, 5062, 6121, 6365, 6503, 6831, 7561, 8518, 8521A, Epistola de itinere et situ Indiae; 8607, Epistolae eius nomine scriptae; and 2695A, 6186, 6365, 6385, 6811, 6831, 8501A, for Responsio ad Dindimum.

BN MSS 2874, 4126, 4877, 4880, 5062, 6121, 6365, 6503, 6831, 7561, 8518, 8521A, Letter on the Journey and Location of India; 8607, Letters Written in His Name; and 2695A, 6186, 6365, 6385, 6811, 6831, 8501A, for Response to Dindimus.

CLM 11319, 13th century, fol. 88, Alexandri epistola ad Aristotelem de rebus in India gestis, preceded at fol. 72 by the Epitome and followed at fol. 97 by the Dindimus.

CLM 11319, 13th century, fol. 88, Letter from Alexander to Aristotle on Events in India, preceded at fol. 72 by the Summary and followed at fol. 97 by the Dindimus.

In the library of Eton College an imperfect copy of the Epistola follows Orosius in a MS of the early 13th century, 133, BL 4, 6, fols. 85r-87.

In the library of Eton College, an imperfect copy of the Epistola comes after Orosius in a manuscript from the early 13th century, 133, BL 4, 6, fols. 85r-87.

A somewhat different and later version of the Letter to Aristotle was published in 1910 at Heidelberg by Friedrich Pfister from a Bamberg MS of the 11th century, together with Palladius and the correspondence with Dindimus. Pfister believed all these to be translations from the Greek.

A somewhat different and later version of the Letter to Aristotle was published in 1910 in Heidelberg by Friedrich Pfister from an 11th-century manuscript from Bamberg, along with Palladius and the letters with Dindimus. Pfister thought all these were translations from Greek.

An Anglo-Saxon version of the Letter to Aristotle was edited by Cockayne in 1861 (see T. Wright, RS 34; xxvii).

An Anglo-Saxon version of the Letter to Aristotle was edited by Cockayne in 1861 (see T. Wright, RS 34; xxvii).

[2300] III, 17.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 17.

[2301] First published by Joachim Camerarius about 1571.

[2301] Originally published by Joachim Camerarius around 1571.

[2302] Published with Palladius by Sir Edward Bisse in 1665; MSS are numerous.

[2302] Published with Palladius by Sir Edward Bisse in 1665; there are many manuscripts.

[2303] From this same MS Pfister published the Letter to Aristotle and other treatises mentioned above.

[2303] From this same MS, Pfister published the Letter to Aristotle and other works mentioned above.

[2304] Its influence would therefore seem to have been upon the later prose romances and not upon French vernacular poetry. Known at first only in Italy and Germany, its popularity became general in western Europe toward the close of the middle ages.

[2304] Its influence appears to have impacted the later prose romances rather than French vernacular poetry. Initially recognized only in Italy and Germany, it gained widespread popularity across Western Europe by the end of the Middle Ages.

[2305] Harleian 527, fols. 47-56.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Harleian 527, pp. 47-56.

[2306] Amplon. Quarto 12, fols. 200-201; presumably it includes only those chapters concerned with Nectanebus.

[2306] Amplon. Quarto 12, fols. 200-201; presumably it includes only those chapters regarding Nectanebus.

[2307] CUL 1429 (Gg. I, 34), 14th century, No. 5, 35 fols. Also in CU Trinity 1041, 14th century, fols. 200v-212v, “De Nectanabo mago quomodo magnum genuerit Alexandrum. Egipti sapientes....”

[2307] CUL 1429 (Gg. I, 34), 14th century, No. 5, 35 folios. Also in CU Trinity 1041, 14th century, folios 200v-212v, “About Nectanabus the magician and how he fathered Alexander. The wise men of Egypt....”

[2308] NH XXXVI, 14 and 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ NH 36, 14 and 19.

[2309] De anima, cap. 57, in Migne, PL II, 792.

[2309] On the Soul, ch. 57, in Migne, PL II, 792.

[2310] The former built a Temple of Isis, now a heap of ruins, at Behbit el-Hagar and a colonnade to the Temple of Hibis in the oasis of Khîrgeh; and his name appears upon a gate in the Temple of Mont at Karnak. Besides the Vestibule of Nektanebos at Philae there is a court of Nektanebos before the Temple of the Eighteenth Dynasty at Medinet Habu.

[2310] The former constructed a Temple of Isis, which is now just a pile of ruins, at Behbit el-Hagar, along with a colonnade to the Temple of Hibis in the oasis of Khîrgeh; his name is inscribed on a gate in the Temple of Mont at Karnak. In addition to the Vestibule of Nektanebos at Philae, there is a courtyard of Nektanebos in front of the Temple from the Eighteenth Dynasty at Medinet Habu.

[2311] Berthelot (1885), pp. 29-30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1885), pp. 29-30.

[2312] The Syriac version, on the contrary, emphasizes this point less.

[2312] The Syriac version, on the other hand, focuses less on this point.

[2313] Budge’s translation of the Ethiopic version.

[2313] Budge’s translation of the Ethiopic version.

[2314] CLM 215, fols. 176-94, “Egiptiorum gentem in mathematica magica quam in arte fuisse valentem littere tradunt.”

[2314] CLM 215, fols. 176-94, “The Egyptians were known to be skilled in magical mathematics as much as in other arts.”

[2315] Pseudo-Callisthenes, I, 4, “casters of horoscopes, readers of signs, interpreters of dreams, ventriloquists, augurs, genethlialogists, the so-called magi to whom divination is an open book.” Budge, Syriac version, p. 4, “The interpreters of dreams are of many kinds and the knowers of signs, those who understand divination, Chaldean augurs and casters of nativities; the Greeks call the signs of the zodiac ‘sorcerers’; and others are counters of the stars. As for me, all of these are in my hands and I myself am an Egyptian prophet, a magus, and a counter of the stars.” Budge, Ethiopic Histories, p. 11, “Then Nectanebus answered and said unto her, ‘Yea. Those who have knowledge of the orbs of heaven are of many kinds. Some are interpreters of dreams, and some have knowledge of what shall happen in the future, and some understand omens, and some cast nativities, and there are besides all those who know magic and who are renowned because they are learned in their art, and some are skilled in the motion of the stars of heaven: but I have full knowledge of all these things.’”

[2315] Pseudo-Callisthenes, I, 4, “people who create horoscopes, read omens, interpret dreams, throw their voices, and predict the future; the so-called magicians for whom divination is an open book.” Budge, Syriac version, p. 4, “There are many kinds of dream interpreters and those who understand omens, Chaldean seers and horoscope creators; the Greeks refer to the signs of the zodiac as ‘sorcerers’; and others are astrologers. As for me, I possess all of these skills and I am an Egyptian prophet, a magician, and an astrologer.” Budge, Ethiopic Histories, p. 11, “Then Nectanebus replied and said to her, ‘Yes. Those who understand the celestial bodies are diverse. Some interpret dreams, some know what will happen in the future, some comprehend omens, and some create horoscopes, along with others who are skilled in magic and are famous for their expertise, and some are adept at the movements of the stars: but I have complete knowledge of all these things.’”

[2316] From Fowler’s translation of Alexander: the False Prophet. See also Plutarch’s Alexander.

[2316] From Fowler’s translation of Alexander: the False Prophet. See also Plutarch’s Alexander.

[2317] The Syriac and Ethiopic versions are somewhat more detailed as to the magic by which Philip’s dream was produced. Budge, Syriac version, p. 8, “Then Nectanebus ... brought a hawk and muttered over it his charms and made it fly away with a small quantity of a drug, and that night it shewed Philip a dream.” Budge, Ethiopic Histories, p. 21, “Then Nectanebus took a swift bird and muttered over it certain charms and names, and ... in one day and one night it traversed many lands and countries and seas, and it came to Philip by night and stopped. And it came to pass at that very hour ... that Philip saw a marvelous dream.”

[2317] The Syriac and Ethiopic versions provide a bit more detail about the magic involved in creating Philip’s dream. Budge, Syriac version, p. 8, “Then Nectanebus ... brought a hawk and chanted his spells over it, sending it off with a small amount of a drug, and that night it gave Philip a dream.” Budge, Ethiopic Histories, p. 21, “Then Nectanebus took a fast bird and chanted certain spells and names over it, and ... in one day and one night it traveled across many lands and seas, arriving at Philip by night and resting there. And it happened at that exact hour ... that Philip had an amazing dream.”

[2318] In another place, however, Albert calls Philip Alexander’s father, De causis et proprietatibus elementorum et planetarum, II, ii, 1.

[2318] In another place, however, Albert refers to Philip Alexander’s father, De causis et proprietatibus elementorum et planetarum, II, ii, 1.

[2319] The story is better told in the Syriac version (Budge, 14-17), where Alexander does not push Nectanebus into the pit until after he has asked the astrologer if he knows his own fate and has been told that Nectanebus is to be slain by his own son. Alexander then attempts to foil fate by pushing Nectanebus into the pit, but only fulfills it. In the Ethiopic version Nectanebus is represented as educating Alexander from his seventh year on in “philosophy and letters and the working of magic and the stars and their seasons.” Aristotle becomes Alexander’s tutor only after the death of Nectanebus. Aristotle, too, is represented as an adept in astrology, amulets, and the use of magic wax images. (Budge, Ethiopic Histories, pp. 31, xlv).

[2319] The story is better told in the Syriac version (Budge, 14-17), where Alexander doesn't push Nectanebus into the pit until after asking the astrologer if he knows his own fate, and learns that Nectanebus is destined to be killed by his own son. Alexander then tries to change his fate by pushing Nectanebus into the pit, but only ends up fulfilling it. In the Ethiopic version, Nectanebus is shown teaching Alexander from the age of seven in "philosophy and letters and the practice of magic and the stars and their seasons." Aristotle becomes Alexander's tutor only after Nectanebus's death. Aristotle is also depicted as skilled in astrology, amulets, and the use of magic wax images. (Budge, Ethiopic Histories, pp. 31, xlv).

[2320] VI, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VI, 4.

[2321] Royal 13-A-I, fol. 53v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Royal 13-A-I, p. 53v.

[2322] In CU Trinity 1446 (1250 A. D.) The Romance of Alexander in French verse by Eustache (or Thomas) of Kent, among 152 pictures listed by James (III, 483-91) are two representing the hero’s colloquy with the moon tree (fol. 31r). Marco Polo also tells of these marvelous trees. And see Roux de Rochelle, “Notice sur l’Arbre du Soleil, ou Arbre Sec, décrit dans la relation des voyages de Marco Polo,” in Bulletin de la Société de géographie, série 3, III (1845), 187-94.

[2322] In CU Trinity 1446 (1250 A.D.) The Romance of Alexander in French verse by Eustache (or Thomas) of Kent, among the 152 pictures listed by James (III, 483-91), are two showing the hero’s conversation with the moon tree (fol. 31r). Marco Polo also talks about these amazing trees. Check out Roux de Rochelle, “Notice sur l’Arbre du Soleil, ou Arbre Sec, décrit dans la relation des voyages de Marco Polo,” in Bulletin de la Société de géographie, série 3, III (1845), 187-94.

[2323] For the Letter to Aristotle I have employed the Paris, 1520 edition and Royal 13-A-I, which follow the early Latin version. As stated above, Pfister’s edition (Heidelberg, 1910) gives a later version probably translated from the Greek.

[2323] For the Letter to Aristotle I have used the Paris edition from 1520 and Royal 13-A-I, which are based on the early Latin version. As mentioned earlier, Pfister’s edition (Heidelberg, 1910) presents a later version that was probably translated from the Greek.

[2324] There appears to have been no complete edition of Aëtius in Greek. The first eight of his sixteen books were printed at Venice in 1534, and the ninth at Leipzig in 1757, but for the entire sixteen books one must use the Latin translation of Cornarius, Basel, 1542, etc., which I have read in Stephanus, Medicae artis principes, 1567.

[2324] It seems there has never been a complete edition of Aëtius in Greek. The first eight of his sixteen books were printed in Venice in 1534, and the ninth was published in Leipzig in 1757. However, for the full set of sixteen books, one has to refer to the Latin translation by Cornarius, published in Basel in 1542, among others, which I have seen in Stephanus, Medicae artis principes, 1567.

Recent editions of portions of Aëtius are: Αετιου λογος δωδεκατος πρωτον νυν εκδοθεις ὑπο Γεωργιου Α. Κωστομοιρου, pp. 112, 131, Paris, 1862.

Recent editions of parts of Aëtius include: Αετιου λογος δωδεκατος πρωτον νυν εκδοθεις ὑπο Γεωργιου Α. Κωστομοιρου, pp. 112, 131, Paris, 1862.

Die Augenheilkunde des Aëtius aus Amida, Griechisch und deutsch herausg. von J. Hirschberg, pp. xi, 204, Leipzig, 1899.

The Ophthalmology of Aëtius from Amida, edited in Greek and German by J. Hirschberg, pp. xi, 204, Leipzig, 1899.

Aetii sermo sextidecimus et ultimus (Αετιου περι των εν μητρα παθων etc.). Erstens aus HSS veröffentl. mit Abbildungen, etc., v. S. Zervòs, pp. k’, 172, Leipzig, 1901.

Aetii sermo sextidecimus et ultimus (Αετιου περι των εν μητρα παθων etc.). First published from HSS with illustrations, etc., by S. Zervòs, pp. k’, 172, Leipzig, 1901.

Αετιου Αμιδινου Λογος δεκατος πεμπτος, ed. S. Zerbos, 1909, in Επιστημονικη Εταιρεια, Αθηνα, vol. 21.

Αετιου Αμιδινου Λογος δεκατος πεμπτος, ed. S. Zerbos, 1909, in Επιστημονικη Εταιρεια, Αθηνα, vol. 21.

My references to Alexander of Tralles are both to the text of Stephanus (1567) and the more recent edition by Theodor Puschmann, Alexander von Tralles, Originaltext und Übersetzung nebst einer einleitenden Abhandlung, Vienna, 1878-9, 2 vols. This gives a more critical text than any previous edition, but unfortunately Puschmann adopted still another arrangement into books than those of the MSS and previous editions, and also in my opinion did not make a sufficient study of the Latin MSS. His introduction contains information concerning Alexander’s life and the MSS and previous editions of his works.

My references to Alexander of Tralles are based on both the text by Stephanus (1567) and the more recent edition by Theodor Puschmann, Alexander von Tralles, Originaltext und Übersetzung nebst einer einleitenden Abhandlung, Vienna, 1878-9, 2 vols. This edition offers a more critical text than any earlier versions, but unfortunately, Puschmann used a different arrangement into books than the manuscripts and previous editions. Additionally, in my view, he didn't sufficiently study the Latin manuscripts. His introduction provides information about Alexander's life as well as the manuscripts and earlier editions of his works.

A valuable earlier study on Alexander was that of E. Milward, published in 1733 under the title, A Letter to the Honourable Sir Hans Sloane Bart., etc., and in 1734 as Trallianus Reviviscens, 229 pp. Milward was preparing an edition of Alexander of Tralles, but it was never published. His estimate of Alexander’s position in the history of medicine furnishes an incidental picture of interest of the state of medicine in his own time, the early eighteenth century.

A significant earlier study on Alexander was by E. Milward, published in 1733 under the title, A Letter to the Honourable Sir Hans Sloane Bart., etc., and in 1734 as Trallianus Reviviscens, 229 pages. Milward was working on an edition of Alexander of Tralles, but it never got published. His view of Alexander's role in the history of medicine provides an interesting glimpse into the state of medicine in his own time, the early eighteenth century.

The old Latin translation of Alexander of Tralles was the first to be printed at Lyons, 1504, Alexandri yatros practica cum expositione glose interlinearis Jacobi de Partibus et (Simonis) Januensis in margine posite; also Pavia, 1520 and Venice 1522. Next appeared a very free Latin translation by Torinus in 1533 and 1541, Paraphrases in libros omnes Alexandri Tralliani. The Greek text of Alexander was first printed by Stephanus (Robert Étienne) in 1548 (ed. J. Goupyl). The Latin translation by Guinther of Andernach, which is included in Stephanus (1567), first appeared in 1549, Strasburg, and was reprinted a number of times.

The old Latin translation of Alexander of Tralles was the first to be printed in Lyons in 1504, Alexandri yatros practica cum expositione glose interlinearis Jacobi de Partibus et (Simonis) Januensis in margine posite; also in Pavia in 1520 and Venice in 1522. Then a very loose Latin translation by Torinus came out in 1533 and 1541, Paraphrases in libros omnes Alexandri Tralliani. The Greek text of Alexander was first printed by Stephanus (Robert Étienne) in 1548 (ed. J. Goupyl). The Latin translation by Guinther of Andernach, included in Stephanus (1567), first appeared in 1549 in Strasburg and was reprinted several times.

Another work by Puschmann may also be noted: Nachträge zu Alexander Trallianus. Fragmente aus Philumenus und Philagrius nebst einer bisher noch ungedruckten Abhandlung über Augenkrankheiten, Berlin, 1886, in Berliner Studien f. class. Philol. und Archaeol., V, 2; 188 pp., in which he segregates as fragments of Philumenus and Philagrius portions of the text of Alexander as found in the Latin MSS.

Another work by Puschmann worth mentioning is Nachträge zu Alexander Trallianus. Fragmente aus Philumenus und Philagrius nebst einer bisher noch ungedruckten Abhandlung über Augenkrankheiten, Berlin, 1886, in Berliner Studien f. class. Philol. und Archaeol., V, 2; 188 pp., where he separates portions of Alexander's text found in the Latin manuscripts as fragments of Philumenus and Philagrius.

My references for the De medicamentis of Marcellus apply to Helmreich’s edition of 1889 in the Teubner series. This edition is based on a single MS of the ninth century at Laon which Helmreich followed Valentin Rose in regarding as the sole extant codex of the work. As a result Rose indulged in ingenious theories to explain how the editio princeps by Ianus Cornarius, Basel, 1536, included the prefatory letter and other preliminary material not found in the Laon MS, whose first leaves and some others are missing.

My references for the De medicamentis by Marcellus are based on Helmreich’s 1889 edition in the Teubner series. This edition relies on a single ninth-century manuscript from Laon, which Helmreich followed Valentin Rose in considering the only existing codex of the work. As a result, Rose came up with clever theories to explain how the editio princeps by Ianus Cornarius, published in Basel in 1536, included the introductory letter and other preliminary material not found in the Laon manuscript, whose first few pages and some others are missing.

But as a matter of fact BN 6880, a clear and beautifully written MS of the ninth century, contains the De medicamentis entire with all the preliminary letters. Moreover, it is evident that the editio princeps was printed directly from this MS, which contains not only notes by Cornarius but the marks of the compositors.

But in reality, BN 6880, a clear and beautifully written manuscript from the ninth century, includes the De medicamentis in full along with all the preliminary letters. Furthermore, it’s clear that the editio princeps was printed directly from this manuscript, which has not only notes by Cornarius but also the marks of the typesetters.

The text of the edition of 1536 was reproduced in the medical collections of Aldus, Medici antiqui, Venice, 1547, and Stephanus, Medicae artis principes, 1567.

The text from the 1536 edition was reprinted in the medical collections of Aldus, Medici antiquii, Venice, 1547, and Stephanus, Medicae artis principes, 1567.

Jacob Grimm, Über Marcellus Burdigalensis, in Abhandl. d. kgl. Akad. d. Wiss. z. Berlin (1847), pp. 429-60, discusses the evidence for placing Marcellus under the older Theodosius, lists the Celtic words and expressions found in the De medicamentis, and also one hundred specimens of its folk-lore and magic. This article was reprinted in Kleinere Schriften, II (1865), 114-51, where it is followed at pp. 152-72 by a supplementary paper, Über die Marcellischen Formeln, likewise reprinted from the Academy Proceedings for 1855, pp. 51-68.

Jacob Grimm, Über Marcellus Burdigalensis, in Abhandl. d. kgl. Akad. d. Wiss. z. Berlin (1847), pp. 429-60, discusses the evidence for placing Marcellus under the older Theodosius, lists the Celtic words and expressions found in the De medicamentis, and also one hundred examples of its folklore and magic. This article was reprinted in Kleinere Schriften, II (1865), 114-51, where it is followed on pp. 152-72 by a supplementary paper, Über die Marcellischen Formeln, also reprinted from the Academy Proceedings for 1855, pp. 51-68.

The magic of Marcellus was further treated of by R. Heim, De rebus magicis Marcelli medici, in Schedae philol. Hermanno Usener oblatae (1891), pp. 119-37, where he adds nova magica ex Marcelli libris collata which Grimm had omitted.

The magic of Marcellus was further discussed by R. Heim, De rebus magicis Marcelli medici, in Schedae philol. Hermanno Usener oblatae (1891), pp. 119-37, where he includes nova magica ex Marcelli libris collata that Grimm had left out.

[2325] Marcellus is often called of Bordeaux, notably in Grimm’s article, Über Marcellus Burdigalensis, 1847; also by C. W. King, The Gnostics and their Remains, 1887, p. 219; and by J. G. Frazer, The Golden Bough, I, 23; but there seems to be no definite proof that he was from that city.

[2325] Marcellus is often referred to as being from Bordeaux, especially in Grimm’s article, Über Marcellus Burdigalensis, 1847; also by C. W. King, The Gnostics and their Remains, 1887, p. 219; and by J. G. Frazer, The Golden Bough, I, 23; however, there doesn't seem to be any conclusive evidence that he was actually from that city.

Jules Combarieu, La musique et la magie, 1909, p. 87, says in reference to the following incantation recommended by Marcellus, tetunc resonco bregan gresso, “Je remarque en passant qu’il faut frotter l’œil en disant ce carmen, et que dans le patois du Midi, brégua ou brége, signifie frotter. Marcellus, si je ne me trompe, était de Bordeaux.”

Jules Combarieu, La musique et la magie, 1909, p. 87, mentions regarding the incantation suggested by Marcellus, tetunc resonco bregan gresso, “I notice in passing that you need to rub your eye while saying this carmen, and that in the dialect of the South, brégua or brége means to rub. Marcellus, if I'm not mistaken, was from Bordeaux.”

Grimm, however (1847), p. 455, interpreted bregan as “lies”—“breigan gen. pl. von breag lüge,” and the whole line as in modern Irish teith uainn cre soin go breigan greasa (“fleuch von uns staub hinnen zu der lügen genossen!”).

Grimm, however (1847), p. 455, interpreted bregan as “lies”—“breigan gen. pl. von breag lüge,” and the whole line as in modern Irish teith uainn cre soin go breigan greasa (“flee from us dust here to the lies enjoyed!”).

[2326] Stephanus (1567), I, 347, et seq. For an English translation of the text see F. Adams, The Seven Books of Paulus Aegineta, London, 1844-1847.

[2326] Stephanus (1567), I, 347, et seq. For an English translation of the text, see F. Adams, The Seven Books of Paulus Aegineta, London, 1844-1847.

[2327] Simia Galieni, according to Guinther in his translation of Alexander of Tralles, Stephanus (1567), I, 131.

[2327] Simia Galieni, as noted by Guinther in his translation of Alexander of Tralles, Stephanus (1567), I, 131.

[2328] Milward (1733), 9-11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Milward (1733), 9-11.

[2329] John Friend (or Freind), History of Physick (1725), I, 297.

[2329] John Friend (or Freind), History of Physick (1725), I, 297.

[2330] Puschmann, History of Medical Education, 1891, p. 153.

[2330] Puschmann, History of Medical Education, 1891, p. 153.

[2331] Milward (1733), p. 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Milward (1733), p. 11.

[2332] J. F. Payne, English Medicine in Anglo-Saxon Times, 1904, pp. 102-8.

[2332] J. F. Payne, English Medicine in Anglo-Saxon Times, 1904, pp. 102-8.

[2333] Milward (1733), p. 19; Puschmann (1878), I, 104.

[2333] Milward (1733), p. 19; Puschmann (1878), I, 104.

[2334] Ch. Daremberg, Histoire des Sciences Médicales, Paris, 1870, I, 242.

[2334] Ch. Daremberg, History of Medical Sciences, Paris, 1870, I, 242.

[2335] This general impression received from reading many classical and medieval works I was glad to find confirmed by Milward (1733), p. 29, in the particular case of Alexander of Tralles, of whom he writes: “As our author’s stile is excellent, so likewise is his method, and there is no respect in which he is more distinguished from the other Greek writers in physick than in this. The works of Hippocrates, Galen, and indeed of all of them except it be Aretaeus are not only very voluminous but put together with little or no order, as is evident enough to all such as have been conversant with them.”

[2335] This overall impression I got from reading various classical and medieval texts was confirmed by Milward (1733), p. 29, in the specific case of Alexander of Tralles, about whom he writes: “Just as our author's style is excellent, so is his method, and he stands out from other Greek writers in medicine in this regard. The works of Hippocrates, Galen, and indeed all of them, except for Aretaeus, are not only very lengthy but also poorly organized, as anyone who has familiarized themselves with them can clearly see.”

[2336] Daremberg (1870), I, 258-9, said that a mass of MSS in a score of European libraries contained as yet unidentified Latin translations of Greek medical writers.

[2336] Daremberg (1870), I, 258-9, said that a collection of manuscripts in several European libraries included unrecognized Latin translations of Greek medical authors.

[2337] BN 10233, 7th century uncial; BN nouv. acq. 1619, 7-8th century, demi-uncial; BN 9332, 9th century, fol. 1-, Oribasii synopsis medica; CLM 23535, 12th century, fols. 72 and 112. V. Rose, Soranus, 1882, pp. iv-v, speaks of a sixth century Latin version of Oribasius.

[2337] BN 10233, 7th century uncial; BN nouv. acq. 1619, 7-8th century, demi-uncial; BN 9332, 9th century, fol. 1-, Oribasii synopsis medica; CLM 23535, 12th century, fols. 72 and 112. V. Rose, Soranus, 1882, pp. iv-v, mentions a sixth century Latin version of Oribasius.

[2338] Tetrabiblos, IV, iii, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tetrabiblos, IV, 3, 15.

[2339] Ibid., I, iv, 9, where Galen is not cited, and III, i, 9, where Galen is cited. In Galen, De simplicibus, IX, ii, 19 (Kühn, XII, 207).

[2339] Ibid., I, iv, 9, where Galen is not mentioned, and III, i, 9, where Galen is referenced. In Galen, De simplicibus, IX, ii, 19 (Kühn, XII, 207).

[2340] Ibid., I, ii, 170, where Galen is not cited; De simplicibus, XI, i, 1 (Kühn, XII, 311-4).

[2340] Ibid., I, ii, 170, where Galen is not mentioned; De simplicibus, XI, i, 1 (Kühn, XII, 311-4).

[2341] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 175; Kühn XII, 356-9. Galen is not cited in this, nor in any of the following passages from the Tetrabiblos listed in the notes, unless this is expressly stated.

[2341] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 175; Kühn XII, 356-9. Galen is not mentioned in this or any of the subsequent passages from the Tetrabiblos noted, unless specifically indicated.

[2342] Tetrabiblos at the beginning, pp. 6-7 in Stephanus (1567).

[2342] Tetrabiblos at the beginning, pp. 6-7 in Stephanus (1567).

[2343] Tetrabiblos IV, i, 33; Kühn XIV, 233, and XII, 250-1.

[2343] Tetrabiblos IV, i, 33; Kühn XIV, 233, and XII, 250-1.

[2344] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 109; Kühn XII, 288.

[2344] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 109; Kühn XII, 288.

[2345] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 84; Kühn XII, 253.

[2345] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 84; Kühn XII, 253.

[2346] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 84; Kühn XII, 248, 284-5.

[2346] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 84; Kühn XII, 248, 284-5.

[2347] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 111; Kühn XII, 291-3.

[2347] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 111; Kühn XII, 291-3.

[2348] Tetrabiblos II, iv, 34; Kühn XII, 860. Perhaps a closer correspondence than this could be found. In his preceding 33rd chapter, headed Curatio erosorum dentium ex Galeno, Aëtius includes use of the tooth of a dead dog pulverized in vinegar, which is to be held in the mouth, or filling the ear next the tooth with “fumigated earthworms” or with oil in which earthworms have been cooked.

[2348] Tetrabiblos II, iv, 34; Kühn XII, 860. There might be a closer match than this. In the previous 33rd chapter, titled Curatio erosorum dentium ex Galeno, Aëtius mentions using the tooth of a dead dog ground up in vinegar, which should be held in the mouth, or filling the ear next to the tooth with “fumigated earthworms” or with oil that has cooked earthworms in it.

[2349] Tetrabiblos I, ii, 49.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tetrabiblos I, ii, 49.

[2350] Tetrabiblos IV, i, 39.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tetrabiblos IV, 1, 39.

[2351] Tetrabiblos III, iii, 35.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tetrabiblos III, iii, 35.

[2352] Tetrabiblos II, ii, 12. Marcellus, cap. 20 (p. 188) also speaks of “those who often think that they are made sport of by an incubus.”

[2352] Tetrabiblos II, ii, 12. Marcellus, cap. 20 (p. 188) also talks about “those who often feel like they're being made fun of by a night spirit.”

[2353] Tetrabiblos, I, ii, 177.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tetrabiblos, I, ii, 177.

[2354] Tetrabiblos, IV, i, 86.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tetrabiblos, IV, i, 86.

[2355] Tetrabiblos, I, iii, 164. This passage was printed separately in the Uranologion of D. Petavius, Paris, 1630 and 1703.

[2355] Tetrabiblos, I, iii, 164. This passage was printed separately in the Uranologion of D. Petavius, Paris, 1630 and 1703.

[2356] Agathias, De imperio et rebus gestis Justiniani, Paris, 1860, p. 149.

[2356] Agathias, On the Rule and Achievements of Justinian, Paris, 1860, p. 149.

[2357] Milward (1733), p. 17, “he travel’d through Greece, Gaul, Spain, and several other places whose mention we find up and down in his works.”

[2357] Milward (1733), p. 17, “he traveled through Greece, Gaul, Spain, and several other locations that are mentioned throughout his works.”

[2358] Puschmann (1878), I, 288, διὸ καὶ γέρων λοιπὸν πειθαρχῶ καὶ κάμνειν οὐκέτι δυνάμενος....

[2358] Puschmann (1878), I, 288, and so the old man, being unable to endure any longer, submitted and yielded...

[2359] Milward (1733), p. 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Milward (1733), p. 25.

[2360] Puschmann (1878), I, 83.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Puschmann (1878), I, 83.

[2361] Milward (1733), p. 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Milward (1733), p. 27.

[2362] Puschmann (1891), 152-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Puschmann (1891), 152-3.

[2363] Stephanus (1567), I, 131.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Stephanus (1567), I, 131.

[2364] Friend (1725), I, 106.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Friend (1725), I, 106.

[2365] Milward (1733), pp. 65-6, 57 et seq.

[2365] Milward (1733), pp. 65-6, 57 and following.

[2366] Ibid., pp. 104, 92-3, 71.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., pp. 104, 92-3, 71.

[2367] Ibid., pp. 48-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., pp. 48-9.

[2368] See V. Rose, Hermes, VIII, 39; Anecdota, II, 108. I presume that BN 9332, 9th century, fol. 139, “Alexandri hiatrosofiste therapeut(i)con” (libri tres) is the free Latin translation in a Paris MS of the ninth century alluded to by Daremberg (1870), I, 258-9. Puschmann (1878) I, 91-2, in a blind and inadequate account of the Latin MSS, does not mention it, but lists a Monte Cassino codex (97) of the 9-10th century and an Angers MS of the 10-11th century. He also alludes to a MS at Chartres without giving any number or date for it, but probably has reference to Chartres 342, 12th century, fols. 1-139, “Libri tres Alexandri Yatros.” He alludes to BN 6881 and 6882, both 13th century, libri tres de morbis et de morborum curatione; but not to CLM 344, 12-13th century, fols. 1-60, libri III de medicina,—integra versio Latina Lugduni a. 1504 edita. Other MSS are: Gonville and Caius 400, early 13th century, fols. 4v-83v, “Inc. Alexander yatros sophista”; Royal 12-B-XVI, late 13th century, fol. 113, Practica Alexandri.

[2368] See V. Rose, Hermes, VIII, 39; Anecdota, II, 108. I believe that BN 9332, 9th century, fol. 139, “Alexandri hiatrosofiste therapeut(i)con” (three books) is the free Latin translation found in a 9th-century manuscript from Paris mentioned by Daremberg (1870), I, 258-9. Puschmann (1878) I, 91-2, in a brief and incomplete discussion of the Latin manuscripts, does not mention it, but lists a Monte Cassino codex (97) from the 9th-10th century and an Angers manuscript from the 10th-11th century. He also refers to a manuscript at Chartres without providing any number or date for it, but he likely means Chartres 342, 12th century, fols. 1-139, “Libri tres Alexandri Yatros.” He references BN 6881 and 6882, both from the 13th century, three books on diseases and their treatment; however, he does not mention CLM 344, 12-13th century, fols. 1-60, three books on medicine,—the complete Latin version published in Lyon in 1504. Other manuscripts include: Gonville and Caius 400, early 13th century, fols. 4v-83v, “Inc. Alexander yatros sophista”; Royal 12-B-XVI, late 13th century, fol. 113, Practica Alexandri.

It will be noted that the text in all these Latin MSS is in only three books, but it follows the same order as the twelve books. It is also, at least in the edition of 1504, not as abbreviated as one might infer from Rose. Rather the later editors, Albanus Torinus and Guinther of Andernach, seem to have taken greater liberties with, and made unwarranted additions to Alexander’s text. At the same time the early Latin text treats of some topics such as toothache which are not included in Puschmann’s Greek text, and also includes (II, 79-103, and 104-50) treatments of diseases of the abdomen and spleen for which there seems to be no genuine Greek text and which Puschmann, Nachträge, 1886, has published separately as fragments of Philumenus and Philagrius, medical writers of the first and fourth centuries. His chief reason seems to be that cap. 79 is entitled, De reumate ventris filominis, and cap. 104, Ad splenem philogrius, while cap. 151 is headed, Causa que est ydropicie alexandri. These passages are, however, found in the Latin MSS of Alexander’s work from the first, and the use of Romance words by the unknown Latin translator indicates that the translation was made in the early medieval period,—Puschmann (1886), p. 12.

It should be noted that the text in all these Latin manuscripts is divided into only three books, but it follows the same order as the twelve books. In the 1504 edition, it's not as abbreviated as one might think based on Rose. Instead, later editors, Albanus Torinus and Guinther of Andernach, seem to have made more changes to and added unnecessary content to Alexander’s text. At the same time, the early Latin text covers some topics, like toothache, that aren't included in Puschmann’s Greek text. It also contains treatments for diseases of the abdomen and spleen (II, 79-103, and 104-50) for which there doesn't seem to be any genuine Greek text, and which Puschmann, Nachträge, 1886, has published separately as fragments from Philumenus and Philagrius, medical writers from the first and fourth centuries. His main reason for this seems to be that cap. 79 is titled De reumate ventris filominis, and cap. 104 is titled Ad splenem philogrius, while cap. 151 is labeled Causa que est ydropicie alexandri. However, these passages are already present in the Latin manuscripts of Alexander’s work from the start, and the use of Romance words by the unnamed Latin translator suggests that the translation was done in the early medieval period,—Puschmann (1886), p. 12.

[2369] Puschmann (1878), I, 91.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Puschmann (1878), I, 91.

[2370] As in Vendôme 109, 11th century, fol. 1, Mulsa Alexandri (Tralliani), fol. 68v, “De reuma ventris, de libro Alexandri” (not here ascribed, it will be noted, to Philumenus), fol. 71, “De secundo libro Alexandri de cura nefreticorum.” The Mulsa Alexandri is found also in two other 11th century MSS of the same library: Vendôme 172, fol. 1, and 175, fol. 2.

[2370] As in Vendôme 109, 11th century, fol. 1, Mulsa Alexandri (Tralliani), fol. 68v, “De reuma ventris, de libro Alexandri” (not here attributed, it should be noted, to Philumenus), fol. 71, “De secundo libro Alexandri de cura nefreticorum.” The Mulsa Alexandri is also found in two other 11th century MSS of the same library: Vendôme 172, fol. 1, and 175, fol. 2.

In Royal 12-E-XX, 12th century, fols. 146v-151v, “Incipit liber dietarum diversarum medicorum, hoc est Alexandri et aliorum.” This extract, made up of a number of Alexander’s chapters on the diet suitable in different ailments, is often found in the MSS, as here, with the Pseudo-Pliny and was printed as its fifth book in 1509 and 1516.

In Royal 12-E-XX, 12th century, fols. 146v-151v, “Incipit liber dietarum diversarum medicorum, hoc est Alexandri et aliorum.” This passage, consisting of several chapters by Alexander on the diets appropriate for various ailments, is commonly found in manuscripts, like this one, alongside the Pseudo-Pliny, and was published as its fifth book in 1509 and 1516.

[2371] Puschmann (1878), I, 97.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Puschmann (1878), vol. 1, p. 97.

[2372] Milward (1773), p. 179.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Milward (1773), p. 179.

[2373] Thus in Vendôme 109 (see note 2, p. 577) besides the extracts from Alexander of Tralles we find at fol. 58, “Alexander (Aphrodisiensis) amicus veritatis in tertio libro suo ubi de febribus commemorat.” The Arabs seem to have confused these two Alexanders: see Steinschneider (1862), p. 61; Puschmann (1878), I, 94-5.

[2373] So in Vendôme 109 (see note 2, p. 577) besides the excerpts from Alexander of Tralles, we find at fol. 58, “Alexander (of Aphrodesius) friend of truth in his third book where he talks about fevers.” The Arabs appear to have mixed up these two Alexanders: see Steinschneider (1862), p. 61; Puschmann (1878), I, 94-5.

[2374] See the discussion by Choulant in Janus (1845), p. 52, and Henschel in De Renzi (1852-9) II, 11, of a 12th century MS at Breslau, “Liber Alexandri de agnoscendis febribus et pulsibus et urinis”; also Puschmann (1878) I, 105-6, concerning BN Greek MS 2316, which seems to be a late Greek translation of it,—another instance that a Greek text is not necessarily the original.

[2374] Check out the discussion by Choulant in Janus (1845), p. 52, and Henschel in De Renzi (1852-9) II, 11, about a 12th-century manuscript in Breslau titled “Liber Alexandri de agnoscendis febribus et pulsibus et urinis”; also see Puschmann (1878) I, 105-6, regarding BN Greek MS 2316, which appears to be a late Greek translation of it—another example showing that a Greek text isn't necessarily the original.

[2375] Corpus Christi 189, 11-12th century, fols. 1-5, “Antidotum pigra magni Alexandri Macedonii quod facit stomaticis epilenticis.” Steinschneider, cited by Puschmann (1878) I, 106, has also noted the attribution in Hebrew MSS to Alexander the Great of a work on fever, urine, and pulse, presumably identical with that mentioned in the foregoing note.

[2375] Corpus Christi 189, 11-12th century, fols. 1-5, “Antidotum pigra magni Alexandri Macedonii quod facit stomaticis epilenticis.” Steinschneider, referenced by Puschmann (1878) I, 106, has also pointed out the attribution in Hebrew manuscripts to Alexander the Great of a work on fever, urine, and pulse, likely the same one mentioned in the previous note.

[2376] Stephanus (1567) I, 176, 204, 216, 225; and Puschmann, II, 575, are a few specimens.

[2376] Stephanus (1567) I, 176, 204, 216, 225; and Puschmann, II, 575, are a few examples.

[2377] Amplon. Quarto 204, 12-13th century, fols. 90-5, Experimentorum Alexandri medici collectio succincta. Digby 79, 13th century, fols. 180-92v, “Alexandrina experimenta de libro percompendiose extractata meliora ut nobis visum est ad singulas egritudines.” Additional 34111, 15th century, fol. 77, “Experimenta Alexandri,” in English.

[2377] Amplon. Quarto 204, 12-13th century, pages 90-95, A Brief Collection of Experiments by Alexander the Physician. Digby 79, 13th century, pages 180-192v, “The Experiments of Alexander Extracted from the Book in a Concise Manner, Better suited as we see it for individual ailments.” Additional 34111, 15th century, page 77, “Experiments of Alexander,” in English.

[2378] Stephanus I, 156; Puschmann II, 563.

[2378] Stephanus I, 156; Puschmann II, 563.

[2379] Milward (1733), p. 168.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Milward (1733), p. 168.

[2380] Stephanus I, 312; Puschmann II, 579.

[2380] Stephanus I, 312; Puschmann II, 579.

[2381] Stephanus I, 345, see also 296 and 339; Puschmann I, 407, 437.

[2381] Stephanus I, 345, see also 296 and 339; Puschmann I, 407, 437.

[2382] Stephanus I, 312; Puschmann II, 579.

[2382] Stephanus I, 312; Puschmann II, 579.

[2383] Stephanus I, 156; Puschmann I, 565.

[2383] Stephanus I, 156; Puschmann I, 565.

[2384] Stephanus I, 345; Puschmann I, 437.

[2384] Stephanus I, 345; Puschmann I, 437.

[2385] Καὶ θαυμαστῶς ὅπως ἀντιπαθείᾳ τινὶ καὶ λόγῳ ἀρρήτῳ.

[2385] And wonderfully in the way of mutual dislike with a certain unspeakable word.

[2386] For the passages in this paragraph see Stephanus I, 156-7, 313; Puschmann I, 561, 567-73.

[2386] For the passages in this paragraph see Stephanus I, 156-7, 313; Puschmann I, 561, 567-73.

[2387] Stephanus I, 312.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Stephen I, 312.

[2388] Stephanus I, 281; Puschmann II, 475.

[2388] Stephanus I, 281; Puschmann II, 475.

[2389] Stephanus I, 296; Puschmann II, 377.

[2389] Stephanus I, 296; Puschmann II, 377.

[2390] Stephanus I, 313.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Stephen I, 313.

[2391] Stephanus I, 296; Puschmann II, 377.

[2391] Stephanus I, 296; Puschmann II, 377.

[2392] Stephanus I, 281; Puschmann II, 475.

[2392] Stephanus I, 281; Puschmann II, 475.

[2393] Stephanus I, 314; Puschmann II, 585.

[2393] Stephanus I, 314; Puschmann II, 585.

[2394] If the MSS, which I have not examined, agree with the 1504 edition.

[2394] If the manuscripts, which I haven't looked at, match the 1504 edition.

[2395] Both in BN 6880 and the edition of Basel, 1536, “Marcellus vir inluster ex magno officio Theodosii Sen. filiis suis salutem d(icit).” In the MS, however, a later hand has written above the now faded line an incorrect copy in which “Theodosii Sen.” is replaced by “theodosiensi.” Helmreich (1889), on the other hand, has replaced “ex magno officio” by “ex magistro officio.” It is perhaps open to doubt whether the “Sen.” goes with “Theodosii” or “Marcellus.”

[2395] Both in BN 6880 and the Basel edition from 1536, “Marcellus, a distinguished man, sends greetings to the sons of Theodosius Sen.” However, in the manuscript, a later hand has written above the now faded line an incorrect copy in which “Theodosii Sen.” is replaced by “theodosiensi.” Helmreich (1889), on the other hand, has changed “ex magno officio” to “ex magistro officio.” It may be uncertain whether “Sen.” refers to “Theodosii” or “Marcellus.”

[2396] Cap. 20 (1889), p. 204.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 20 (1889), p. 204.

[2397] In BN 6880 there are other headings written in capitals than those which mark the openings of the 36 chapters.

[2397] In BN 6880, there are other headings written in all caps besides those that signal the start of the 36 chapters.

[2398] Cap. 29 (1889), pp. 304-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 29 (1889), pp. 304-6.

[2399] Cap. 35 (1889), p. 361.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 35 (1889), p. 361.

[2400] Cap. 8 (1889), p. 80.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 8 (1889), p. 80.

[2401] Cap. 5 (1889), p. 49.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 5 (1889), p. 49.

[2402] For such mentions of experience and experiment see the following passages in the 1889 edition, numbers referring to page and line: 31, 7; 34, 3; 35, 14; 44, 2; 53, 1; 58, 21; 64, 34; 65, 30; 66, 26; 72, 22; 73, 7; 74, 2; 77, 9; 80, 28; 81, 29; 89, 3 and 29; 96, 14 and 31; 102, 27; 120, 32; 123, 15; 129, 21; 133, 10; 145, 33; 148, 25; 149, 26; 160, 18; 176, 5; 178, 25; 186, 15; 190, 20; 192, 31; 211, 1; 222, 18; 224, 31; 230, 3; 235, 15; 236, 14; 239, 8 and 26; 242, 8 and 23; 248, 20; 256, 9; 258, 5; 264, 21; 276, 35; 281, 19 and 27; 282, 15; 308, 21; 312, 6 and 19 and 22; 314, 25; 326, 28; 327, 13; 334, 29; 343, 23; 351, 23 and 25; 353, 4; 354, 19; 356, 6; 362, 32; 370, 22 and 37.

[2402] For such mentions of experience and experimentation, see the following passages in the 1889 edition, with numbers referring to page and line: 31, 7; 34, 3; 35, 14; 44, 2; 53, 1; 58, 21; 64, 34; 65, 30; 66, 26; 72, 22; 73, 7; 74, 2; 77, 9; 80, 28; 81, 29; 89, 3 and 29; 96, 14 and 31; 102, 27; 120, 32; 123, 15; 129, 21; 133, 10; 145, 33; 148, 25; 149, 26; 160, 18; 176, 5; 178, 25; 186, 15; 190, 20; 192, 31; 211, 1; 222, 18; 224, 31; 230, 3; 235, 15; 236, 14; 239, 8 and 26; 242, 8 and 23; 248, 20; 256, 9; 258, 5; 264, 21; 276, 35; 281, 19 and 27; 282, 15; 308, 21; 312, 6 and 19 and 22; 314, 25; 326, 28; 327, 13; 334, 29; 343, 23; 351, 23 and 25; 353, 4; 354, 19; 356, 6; 362, 32; 370, 22 and 37.

[2403] Cap. 15 (1889), p. 146.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 15 (1889), p. 146.

[2404] Cap. 23 (1889), p. 239.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 23 (1889), p. 239.

[2405] Caps. 20 and 24 (1889), pp. 208 and 244.

[2405] Caps. 20 and 24 (1889), pp. 208 and 244.

[2406] Cap. 26 (1889), pp. 264-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 26 (1889), pp. 264-6.

[2407] Cap. 29 (1889), p. 311; and see cap. 28, p. 298.

[2407] Cap. 29 (1889), p. 311; and see cap. 28, p. 298.

[2408] Cap. 12, p. 123.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 12, p. 123.

[2409] Cap. 16, p. 166.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 16, p. 166.

[2410] Cap. 23, p. 238.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 23, p. 238.

[2411] Cap. 34, p. 357.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 34, p. 357.

[2412] Cap. 8, p. 69.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 8, p. 69.

[2413] Cap. 8, p. 66.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 8, p. 66.

[2414] Cap. 12, p. 125.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 12, p. 125.

[2415] Cap. 10, p. 113.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 10, p. 113.

[2416] Cap. 10, p. 112; NH 30, 11.

[2416] Cap. 10, p. 112; NH 30, 11.

[2417] Cap. 8, p. 68; NH 29, 38.

[2417] Cap. 8, p. 68; NH 29, 38.

[2418] Cap. 29, p. 313.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 29, p. 313.

[2419] Cap. 29, p. 314. Pliny has a similar procedure with a frog and a reed.

[2419] Cap. 29, p. 314. Pliny has a similar method involving a frog and a reed.

[2420] Cap. 22, p. 230.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 22, p. 230.

[2421] Cap. 33, p. 347, “mulierem verendaque eius dum cum ea cois tange.”

[2421] Cap. 33, p. 347, “touch her and her private parts while with her.”

[2422] Cap. 23, p. 239.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 23, p. 239.

[2423] Cap. 1, p. 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 1, p. 34.

[2424] Cap. 25, p. 247.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 25, p. 247.

[2425] Cap. 12, p. 126.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 12, p. 126.

[2426] Cap. 18, p. 178.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 18, p. 178.

[2427] Cap. 17, p. 176.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 17, p. 176.

[2428] Cap. 32, pp. 337, 338, 340.

[2428] Cap. 32, pp. 337, 338, 340.

[2429] Cap. 8, p. 70.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chap. 8, p. 70.

[2430] Cap. 12, p. 123.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 12, p. 123.

[2431] Cap. 36, p. 379. Marcellus employs the phrase, of course, to indicate a private or personal incantation, and as a matter of fact it is somewhat less absurd than a number of others.

[2431] Cap. 36, p. 379. Marcellus uses the term, of course, to refer to a private or personal spell, and honestly, it's slightly less ridiculous than many others.

[2432] Cap. 28, p. 301.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ch. 28, p. 301.

[2433] Cap. 29, p. 310. For further instances of incantations and characters in the De medicamentis see page 110, lines 18-27; 111, 26-33; 112, 29-113, 2; 116, 8-11; 133, 18-22, 26-31; 139, 17-26; 142, 19-26; 149, 4-11; 151, 18-33; 152, 9-14, 19-24; 180, 1-3; 220, 11-20; 221, 2-6; 223, 15-18; 241, 1-6, 14-22; 244, 26-28; 248, 16-19; 260, 22-24; 295, 18-22; 333, 9-15; 382, 16-18.

[2433] Cap. 29, p. 310. For more examples of incantations and symbols in the De medicamentis, see page 110, lines 18-27; 111, 26-33; 112, 29-113, 2; 116, 8-11; 133, 18-22, 26-31; 139, 17-26; 142, 19-26; 149, 4-11; 151, 18-33; 152, 9-14, 19-24; 180, 1-3; 220, 11-20; 221, 2-6; 223, 15-18; 241, 1-6, 14-22; 244, 26-28; 248, 16-19; 260, 22-24; 295, 18-22; 333, 9-15; 382, 16-18.

[2434] Daremberg (1870) I, 257-8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Daremberg (1870) I, 257-8.

[2435] Plinii Secundi Iunioris de medicina libri tres, ed. V. Rose, Lipsiae, 1875. V. Rose, “Ueber die Medicina Plinii,” in Hermes, VIII (1874) 19-66.

[2435] Three Books on Medicine by Pliny the Younger, ed. V. Rose, Leipzig, 1875. V. Rose, “On the Medicine of Pliny,” in Hermes, VIII (1874) 19-66.

[2436] C. Plinii Secundi Medicina, ed. Thomas Pighinuccius, Rome, 1509.

[2436] C. Plinii Secundi Medicina, ed. Thomas Pighinuccius, Rome, 1509.

[2437] Codex St. Gall 751; described by V. Rose, Hermes, VIII, 48-55; Anecdota II, 106.

[2437] Codex St. Gall 751; described by V. Rose, Hermes, VIII, 48-55; Anecdota II, 106.

[2438] For the list of his six genuine works see above p. 222.

[2438] For the list of his six authentic works, see above p. 222.

[2439] De nota aspirationis and De diphthongis, ed. Osann, Darmstadt, 1826, with De orthographia, a forgery by a sixteenth century humanist.

[2439] "On the Importance of Aspirations" and "On Diphthongs," edited by Osann, Darmstadt, 1826, along with On Orthography, a forgery by a sixteenth-century humanist.

[2440] Περὶ ἑρμηνείας, sometimes printed as the third book of the De dogmate Platonis. Some scholars, however, regard it as genuine, and there are a number of MSS of it from the 9th, 10th, and 11th centuries. See Schanz (1905), 127-8.

[2440] About interpretation, sometimes published as the third book of the De dogmate Platonis. Some scholars, however, consider it authentic, and there are several manuscripts of it from the 9th, 10th, and 11th centuries. See Schanz (1905), 127-8.

[2441] See above p. 290.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See above p. 290.

[2442] See Schanz (1905), 139-40.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Schanz (1905), 139-40.

[2443] See below p. 683. Schanz fails to mention it among the apocryphal works of Apuleius.

[2443] See below p. 683. Schanz doesn't mention it among the apocryphal works of Apuleius.

[2444] H. Köbert, De Pseudo-Apulei herbarum medicaminibus, Bayreuth, 1888. Schanz (1905) 138, mentions only continental MSS, although there are numerous MSS of it in the British Museum and Bodleian libraries, some of which have been used and others described by O. Cockayne in his edition of the Herbarium and the other treatises accompanying it in his Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England, Vol. I (1864) in RS XXXV. Nor does Schanz note Cockayne’s book.

[2444] H. Köbert, De Pseudo-Apulei herbarum medicaminibus, Bayreuth, 1888. Schanz (1905) 138, only mentions the continental manuscripts, even though there are many manuscripts of it in the British Museum and Bodleian libraries, some of which have been utilized and others documented by O. Cockayne in his edition of the Herbarium and the other works that go along with it in his Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England, Vol. I (1864) in RS XXXV. Schanz also does not reference Cockayne’s book.

[2445] See Sloane 1975, a vellum MS of the 12th or early 13th century written in fine large letters and beautifully illuminated; Ashmole 1431, end of 11th century, and 1462, 13th century, fol. 45r. Harleian 4986, Apuleii Platonici de medicamentis cum figuris pictis, is another early illuminated English MS. Cockayne I, lxxxii, does not date it, but the MSS catalogue lists it as tenth century. In CU Trinity 1152, 14th century, James (III, 162-3) estimates the number of colored drawings as between 800 and 1000; he describes only a few. Singer (1921) reproduces a number of such illuminations from MSS of the Herbarium and of Dioscorides.

[2445] Check out Sloane 1975, a vellum manuscript from the 12th or early 13th century written in beautiful large letters and elegantly illuminated; Ashmole 1431, from the end of the 11th century, and 1462, from the 13th century, fol. 45r. Harleian 4986, Apuleii Platonici de medicamentis cum figuris pictis, is another early illuminated English manuscript. Cockayne I, lxxxii, doesn’t provide a date, but the manuscript catalog lists it as being from the 10th century. In CU Trinity 1152, from the 14th century, James (III, 162-3) estimates the number of colored illustrations to be between 800 and 1000; he only describes a few. Singer (1921) reproduces several of these illustrations from the manuscripts of the Herbarium and Dioscorides.

[2446] Lucca 236, 9-10th century, “Herbarium Apuleii Platonici quem accepit a Chironi magistro Achillis et ab Escolapio explicit feliciter.” In Cotton Vitellius C-III, early 11th century, in Anglo-Saxon, although the title reads, “The Herbarium of Apuleius the Platonist which he received from Esculapius and Chiron the centaur, the master of Achilles,” a full page painting shows Plato and Chiron receiving the volume from Aesculapius (Cockayne, I, lxxxviii). And Sloane 1975 and Harleian 1585 speak of the Herbarium as “Liber Platonis Apoliensis.” In a 15th century MS (Rawlinson C-328, fol. 113v-, Incipit de herbis Galieni Apolei et Ciceronis) Galen and Cicero, who perhaps replace Chiron and Aesculapius, are associated with Apuleius as authors.

[2446] Lucca 236, 9-10th century, “Herbarium Apuleii Platonici quem accepit a Chironi magistro Achillis et ab Escolapio explicit feliciter.” In Cotton Vitellius C-III, early 11th century, in Anglo-Saxon, although the title reads, “The Herbarium of Apuleius the Platonist which he received from Esculapius and Chiron the centaur, the master of Achilles,” a full-page painting shows Plato and Chiron receiving the book from Aesculapius (Cockayne, I, lxxxviii). And Sloane 1975 and Harleian 1585 refer to the Herbarium as “Liber Platonis Apoliensis.” In a 15th-century manuscript (Rawlinson C-328, fol. 113v-, Incipit de herbis Galieni Apolei et Ciceronis) Galen and Cicero, who perhaps replace Chiron and Aesculapius, are associated with Apuleius as authors.

[2447] Daremberg (1853), 11-12, said that the pagan incantations were preserved intact in a number of MSS at Oxford and Cambridge. Conjurations of herbs are not limited to the Pseudo-Apuleius in medieval MSS but sometimes occur singly as in Perugia 736, 13th century, where at fol. 267 a 14th century hand has added a passage in Latin which may be translated: “In the name of Christ, Amen. I conjure you, herb, that I may conquer by lord Peter etc. by moon and stars etc. and may you conquer all my enemies, pontiff and priests and all laymen and all women and all lawyers who are against me etc.” In Sloane 1571, 15th century, fols. 1-6, at the close of fragments of a Latin-English dictionary of herbs is a Latin prayer entitled, Benedictio omnium herbarum.

[2447] Daremberg (1853), 11-12, stated that the pagan spells were kept intact in several manuscripts at Oxford and Cambridge. Conjurations of herbs are not just found in the Pseudo-Apuleius in medieval manuscripts but also sometimes appear individually, like in Perugia 736, from the 13th century, where on fol. 267, a 14th-century scribe added a passage in Latin that can be translated as: “In the name of Christ, Amen. I conjure you, herb, that I may conquer through lord Peter, etc. by the moon and stars, etc. and may you defeat all my enemies, pontiff and priests, and all laypeople, all women, and all lawyers who stand against me, etc.” In Sloane 1571, from the 15th century, on fols. 1-6, at the end of fragments of a Latin-English dictionary of herbs, there is a Latin prayer titled, Benedictio omnium herbarum.

[2448] The above passages are from Sloane 1975 and the edition of 1547.

[2448] The above passages are from Sloane 1975 and the 1547 edition.

[2449] Ashmole 1431, 11th century, fol. 3r, “In nomine domini incipit herboralium apuleii platonis quod accepit ascolapio et chirone centauro magistro. Lege feliciter. Precantatio omnium herbarum ad singulas curas.” CU Trinity 1152, 14th century, fol. 1. Gonville and Caius 345, 14th century, fol. 89v.

[2449] Ashmole 1431, 11th century, fol. 3r, “In the name of the Lord, this is the beginning of the herbal by Apuleius Plato, which was received by Asclepius and Chiron the centaur, the master. Read happily. A prayer for all herbs for individual remedies.” CU Trinity 1152, 14th century, fol. 1. Gonville and Caius 345, 14th century, fol. 89v.

[2450] Or Papyriensis Placitus.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ or Papyriensis Placitus.

[2451] Perhaps merely for “auctor.” ed. Fabricius, Bibl. Graec. XIII, 395-423, Sexti Placiti liber de medicina ex animalibus.

[2451] Maybe just for “author.” ed. Fabricius, Bibl. Graec. XIII, 395-423, Sexti Placiti book on medicine from animals.

[2452] In Montpellier 277, 15th century, “Liber Sesti platonis de animalibus,” perhaps because the Apuleius of the Herbarium is called a Platonist. In Digby 43, late 14th century, fol. 15, “Liber Septiplanti Papiensis de bestiis et avibus medicinalis.” In Rawlinson C-328, 15th century, fol. 128, “Incipit liber Papiriensis ex animalibus ex avibus.” The work is sometimes found in juxtaposition with a somewhat similar “Liber medicinalis de secretis Galieni,” concerning which see below, chapter 64, II, 761.

[2452] In Montpellier 277, 15th century, “Liber Sesti platonis de animalibus,” perhaps because the Apuleius of the Herbarium is referred to as a Platonist. In Digby 43, late 14th century, fol. 15, “Liber Septiplanti Papiensis de bestiis et avibus medicinalis.” In Rawlinson C-328, 15th century, fol. 128, “Incipit liber Papiriensis ex animalibus ex avibus.” This work is sometimes found alongside a somewhat similar “Liber medicinalis de secretis Galieni,” for which see below, chapter 64, II, 761.

[2453] V. Rose (1875) 337-8 suggests that this is a fragment from a fuller work of Aesculapius to Augustus cited by Thomas of Cantimpré, Albertus Magnus, and Vincent of Beauvais. See also Peter of Abano, De venenis, cap. 5, “in epistola Esculapii philosophi ad Octavianum.” But perhaps these writers refer to the entire work of Sextus Papirius.

[2453] V. Rose (1875) 337-8 suggests that this is a fragment from a more complete work of Aesculapius to Augustus, as cited by Thomas of Cantimpré, Albertus Magnus, and Vincent of Beauvais. See also Peter of Abano, De venenis, cap. 5, “in epistola Esculapii philosophi ad Octavianum.” However, it’s possible that these writers are actually referring to the entire work of Sextus Papirius.

[2454] Ed. Ruellius, with Scribonius Largus, Paris, 1529.

[2454] Ed. Ruellius, with Scribonius Largus, Paris, 1529.

[2455] In a later medieval vocabulary taxus is given as a synonym for the animal called camaleon: Alphita, ed. Daremberg from BN 6954 and 6957 in De Renzi, Collectio Salernitana, III, 272-322.

[2455] In later medieval language, taxus is noted as a synonym for the creature known as camaleon: Alphita, ed. Daremberg from BN 6954 and 6957 in De Renzi, Collectio Salernitana, III, 272-322.

[2456] Cotton Vespasian B, X, #6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cotton Vespasian B, X, #6.

[2457] Harleian 3859, called tenth century in the Harleian catalogue which is often incorrect in its dating, but 11th or 12th century by d’Avezac, Mommsen in his edition of Solinus, and Beazley, Dawn of Geography, I, 523. Royal 15-B-II and 15-C-IV, both of the 12th century. For other MSS at Paris, Leyden, and Rome see Beazley, op. cit.

[2457] Harleian 3859, labeled as 10th century in the Harleian catalog, which often has incorrect dates, but considered to be from the 11th or 12th century by d’Avezac, Mommsen in his edition of Solinus, and Beazley, Dawn of Geography, I, 523. Royal 15-B-II and 15-C-IV, both from the 12th century. For other manuscripts in Paris, Leyden, and Rome, see Beazley, op. cit.

[2458] But after all is Suetonius any more respectable a historian than Aethicus and Solinus are geographers?

[2458] But after all, is Suetonius any more respected as a historian than Aethicus and Solinus are as geographers?

[2459] Bunbury, History of Ancient Geography, II, Appendix: “How M. Wuttke can attach any value to such a production is to me quite incomprehensible; still more that he should ascribe the translation to the great ecclesiastical writer,” Jerome. Bunbury believed that the work was not earlier than the seventh century. Beazley, Dawn of Geography, I, 355-63, is of the same opinion.

[2459] Bunbury, History of Ancient Geography, II, Appendix: “I find it completely incomprehensible how M. Wuttke can value such a work; even more puzzling is his attributing the translation to the prominent church writer,” Jerome. Bunbury thought the work dated no earlier than the seventh century. Beazley, Dawn of Geography, I, 355-63, shares this view.

[2460] In his edition of Solinus, p. xxvii, he contends that certain passages which Wuttke pointed out as common to Aethicus and Solinus are borrowed by Aethicus from Isidore who died in 636.

[2460] In his version of Solinus, p. xxvii, he argues that some sections which Wuttke identified as shared by Aethicus and Solinus are actually taken by Aethicus from Isidore, who passed away in 636.

[2461] Harleian 3859.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Harleian 3859.

[2462] Steele, Opera hactenus inedita, 1905, Fasc. I, pp. 1-2.

[2462] Steele, Previously Unpublished Works, 1905, Vol. I, pp. 1-2.

[2463] CUL 213, 14th century, fols. 103v-14, “Qui hunc librum legit intelligat Ethicum philosophum non omnia dixisse que hic scripta sunt, set Solinus (so James, but Jeronimus in d’Avezac, p. 237) qui eum transtulit sententias veritati consonas ex libro eiusdem excerpsit et easdem testimonias scripture nostre confirmavit. Non enim erat iste philosophus Christianus sed Ethnicus et professione Achademicus.”

[2463] CUL 213, 14th century, fols. 103v-14, “Whoever reads this book should understand that the ethical philosopher did not say everything that is written here, but Solinus (as James notes, though Jeronimus in d’Avezac, p. 237) who translated it took opinions consistent with the truth from his book and confirmed those same testimonies with our scripture. For this philosopher was not a Christian but a pagan and an Academic by profession.”

[2464] Bridges I, 267-8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Bridges I, 267-8.

[2465] Cited by d’Avezac, pp. 257 and 267.

[2465] Cited by d’Avezac, pp. 257 and 267.

[2466] Vienna 2272, 14th century, fol. 92, De vindemiis a Burgundione translatus: Pars Geoponicorum.

[2466] Vienna 2272, 14th century, fol. 92, Translated from Burgundy: Part of the Geoponics.

[2467] Such is the view set forth in PW Geoponica.

[2467] This is the perspective presented in PW Geoponica.

[2468] H. Beckh, Geoponica sive Cassiani Bassi scholastici de re rustica eclogae, Lipsiae, Teubner, 1895. PW criticizes this edition as “leider völlig verfehlten.” Its preface lists the earlier editions.

[2468] H. Beckh, Geoponica sive Cassiani Bassi scholastici de re rustica eclogae, Leipzig, Teubner, 1895. PW criticizes this edition as “unfortunately completely missed the mark.” Its preface lists the earlier editions.

[2469] Geoponica, VII, 5; II, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Geoponica, VII, 5; II, 15.

[2470] VII, 11; XV, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 11; XV, 1.

[2471] I, 12; VII, 13; etc.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 12; VII, 13; etc.

[2472] XV, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 15, 1.

[2473] R. Heim, Incantamenta magica graeca latina, in Jahrb. f. class. Philologie, Suppl. Bd. 19, Leipzig, 1893, pp. 463-576, drew from the Geoponica 13 out of his total of 245 instances of incantations from Greek and Latin literature.

[2473] R. Heim, Incantamenta magica graeca latina, in Jahrb. f. class. Philologie, Suppl. Bd. 19, Leipzig, 1893, pp. 463-576, cited 13 out of a total of 245 examples of incantations from Greek and Latin literature from the Geoponica.

[2474] VII, 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ VII, 14.

[2475] XIII, 15.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ 13, 15.

[2476] The first two volumes, published at Berlin in 1907, 1906, covered the first four of the five genuine books. A previous attempt was K. Sprengel’s edition in vols. 25-26 of C. J. Kühn’s Medici Graeci, Leipzig, 1829. On the textual history and problems see further Wellman’s articles: “Dioskurides” in Pauly-Wissowa, and in Hermes, XXXIII, (1898) 360ff.

[2476] The first two volumes, published in Berlin in 1907 and 1906, covered the first four of the five authentic books. A prior attempt was K. Sprengel’s edition in volumes 25-26 of C. J. Kühn’s Medici Graeci, Leipzig, 1829. For more on the textual history and issues, see Wellman’s articles: “Dioskurides” in Pauly-Wissowa, and in Hermes, XXXIII, (1898) 360ff.

[2477] Περὶ βοτανῶν, περὶ ζῴων παντοίων, περὶ παντοίων ἐλαίων, περὶ ὕλης δένδρων, περὶ οἴνων καὶ λίθων, is another order suggested.

[2477] About plants, about all kinds of animals, about all types of oils, about the materials of trees, about wines and stones, is another order proposed.

[2478] The MS is said by Singer (1921) 60, to have now been removed from Vienna to St. Mark’s Library at Venice; it was procured from Constantinople in 1555 for the future Emperor Maximilian II (1564-1576). A photographic copy was published in 1906 in the Leiden Collection, Codices Graeci et Latini, by A. W. Sijthoff, with an introduction by A. von Premerstein, C. Wessely, and J. Mantuani (C. Wessely, Codex Anciae Iulianae, etc., 1906). See also A. v. Premerstein in the Austrian Jahrbuch (1903) XXIV, 105ff.

[2478] According to Singer (1921) 60, the manuscript has now been moved from Vienna to St. Mark’s Library in Venice; it was obtained from Constantinople in 1555 for the future Emperor Maximilian II (1564-1576). A photographic copy was released in 1906 in the Leiden Collection, Codices Graeci et Latini, by A. W. Sijthoff, with an introduction by A. von Premerstein, C. Wessely, and J. Mantuani (C. Wessely, Codex Anciae Iulianae, etc., 1906). Also, see A. v. Premerstein in the Austrian Jahrbuch (1903) XXIV, 105ff.

I have examined the facsimile of this MS and found the large but faded and partially obliterated illuminations which precede the text rather disappointing after having read the description of them in Dalton’s Byzantine Art, (1911) 460-61, which, however, I presume is accurate and so reproduce here. These large illuminations include a portrait of Juliana Anicia, an ornamental peacock with tail spread, groups of doctors engaged in medical discussions, and Dioscorides himself seated writing, and again seated on a folding stool receiving the herb mandragora (which, of course, was a medieval favorite) from a female figure personifying Discovery (Εὕρησις), “while in the foreground a dog dies in agony,” presumably from the fatal effects of the herb. There are rough reproductions of this last picture in Woltmann and Woermann, History of Painting, I, 192-3, and Singer (1921) 62. When the text proper begins the illuminations are confined to medicinal plants.

I have looked at the facsimile of this manuscript and found the large, but faded and partially obscured illuminations that come before the text quite disappointing, especially after reading Dalton’s Byzantine Art, (1911) 460-61, which I assume is accurate and so I'll include it here. These large illuminations feature a portrait of Juliana Anicia, an ornamental peacock with its tail spread, groups of doctors engaged in medical discussions, and Dioscorides himself sitting and writing, and again seated on a folding stool receiving the herb mandragora (which was, of course, a medieval favorite) from a female figure representing Discovery (Εὕρησις), “while in the foreground a dog dies in agony,” presumably from the lethal effects of the herb. There are rough reproductions of this last image in Woltmann and Woermann, History of Painting, I, 192-3, and Singer (1921) 62. When the main text begins, the illuminations are limited to medicinal plants.

Other early Greek manuscripts are the Codex Neapolitanus, formerly at Vienna, now at St. Mark’s, Venice, an eighth century palimpsest from Bobbio, and a Paris codex, (BN Greek 2179) of the ninth century. An Arabic translation from the Greek seems to have been made about 850; a century later the Byzantine emperor sent a Greek manuscript of Dioscorides to the caliph in Spain.

Other early Greek manuscripts include the Codex Neapolitanus, which used to be in Vienna and is now at St. Mark’s in Venice, an eighth-century palimpsest from Bobbio, and a Paris codex (BN Greek 2179) from the ninth century. An Arabic translation of the Greek appears to have been made around 850; a century later, the Byzantine emperor sent a Greek manuscript of Dioscorides to the caliph in Spain.

For the full text of the De materia medica we are dependent on MSS of the 11th, 12th, 13th and later centuries.

For the complete text of the De materia medica, we rely on manuscripts from the 11th, 12th, 13th, and later centuries.

[2479] Περὶ δηλητηρίων φαρμάκων and περὶ ἰοβόλων, edited by Sprengel in Kühn (1830), XXVI, as was the Περὶ εὐπορίστων ἁπλῶν τε καὶ συνθέτων φαρμάκων. The Περὶ φαρμάκων ἐμπειρίας, (“Experimental Pharmacy”), of which a Latin version, Alphabetum empiricum, sive Dioscoridis et Stephani Atheniensis ... de remediis expertis, was edited by C. Wolf, Zürich, 1581, is an alphabetical arrangement by diseases ascribed to Dioscorides and Stephen of Athens (and other writers).

[2479] About poisonous drugs and venomous ones, edited by Sprengel in Kühn (1830), XXVI, as was the About easily accessible simple and compound drugs. The About drugs of experience, (“Experimental Pharmacy”), of which a Latin version, Alphabetum empiricum, sive Dioscoridis et Stephani Atheniensis ... de remediis expertis, was edited by C. Wolf, Zürich, 1581, is an alphabetical arrangement by diseases attributed to Dioscorides and Stephen of Athens (and other writers).

[2480] Max Wellmann, Die Schrift des Dioskurides Περὶ ἁπλῶν φαρμάκων, 1914, and col. 1140 of his article “Dioskurides” in Pauly-Wissowa.

[2480] Max Wellmann, The Writings of Dioscorides On Simple Medicines, 1914, and col. 1140 of his article “Dioscorides” in Pauly-Wissowa.

[2481] De inst. div. lit. cap. 31.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Of the institutions of various literature. ch. 31.

[2482] V. Rose in Hermes VIII, 38A. Harleian 4986, fol. 44v, “ ... marcelline libellum botanicon ex dioscoridis libris in latinum sermonem conversum in quo depicte sunt herbarum figure ad te misi....”

[2482] V. Rose in Hermes VIII, 38A. Harleian 4986, fol. 44v, “ ... I sent you a little book about plants, translated from Dioscorides' writings into Latin, in which are depicted the figures of herbs....”

[2483] Heinrich Kaestner, Kritisches und Exegetisches zu Pseudo-Dioskorides de herbis femininis, Regensburg, 1896; text in Hermes XXXI (1896) 578-636. Singer (1921) 68, gives as the earliest MS, Rome Barberini IX, 29, of 9th century. Some other MSS are: BN 12995, 9th century; Additional 8928, 11th century, fol. 62v-; Ashmole 1431, end of 11th century, fols. 31v-43, “Incipit liber Dioscoridis ex herbis feminis”; Sloane 1975, 12th or early 13th century, fols. 49v-73; Harleian 1585, 12th century, fol. 79-; Harleian 5294, 12th century; Turin K-IV-3, 12th century, #5, “Incipit liber dioscoridis medicine ex herbis femininis numero LXXI .../ ... Liber medicine dioscoridis de herbis femininis et masculinis explicit feliciter.”

[2483] Heinrich Kaestner, Kritisches und Exegetisches zu Pseudo-Dioskorides de herbis femininis, Regensburg, 1896; text in Hermes XXXI (1896) 578-636. Singer (1921) 68 lists the earliest manuscript as Rome Barberini IX, 29, from the 9th century. Other manuscripts include: BN 12995, 9th century; Additional 8928, 11th century, fol. 62v-; Ashmole 1431, late 11th century, fols. 31v-43, “Incipit liber Dioscoridis ex herbis feminis”; Sloane 1975, 12th or early 13th century, fols. 49v-73; Harleian 1585, 12th century, fol. 79-; Harleian 5294, 12th century; Turin K-IV-3, 12th century, #5, “Incipit liber dioscoridis medicine ex herbis femininis numero LXXI .../ ... Liber medicine dioscoridis de herbis femininis et masculinis explicit feliciter.”

In Vienna 5371, 15th century, fols. 121v-124v, is a briefer Latin treatise ascribed to Dioscordes, which begins with the herb aristologia and mentions silk (sericum) at its close. I have not seen the MS but from the title, Quid pro quo, and the fact that the writer dedicates it to his uncle, one might fancy that it was a work written by Adelard of Bath’s nephew in return for the Natural Questions of his uncle. (See below, chapter 36).

In Vienna 5371, 15th century, fols. 121v-124v, there’s a shorter Latin treatise attributed to Dioscordes, which starts with the herb aristologia and mentions silk (sericum) at the end. I haven’t seen the manuscript, but based on the title, Quid pro quo, and the fact that the author dedicates it to his uncle, one might think it was a work written by Adelard of Bath’s nephew as a trade for his uncle’s Natural Questions. (See below, chapter 36).

[2484] Hermes VIII, 38, comparing Etymologies XVII, 93, with cap. 30 of the De herbis femininis.

[2484] Hermes VIII, 38, comparing Etymologies XVII, 93, with cap. 30 of the De herbis femininis.

[2485] Anecdota graeca et graeco-latina, Berlin, 1864, II, 115 and 119; Hermes VIII, 38; Wellmann (1906), p. xxi.

[2485] Anecdota graeca et graeco-latina, Berlin, 1864, II, 115 and 119; Hermes VIII, 38; Wellmann (1906), p. xxi.

[2486] BN 9332, 8th century; CLM 337, 9-10th century from Monte Cassino; ed. T. M. Auracher et H. Stadler, in Rom. Forsch. I, 49-105; X, 181-247 and 368-446; XI, 1-121; XII, 161-243.

[2486] BN 9332, 8th century; CLM 337, 9-10th century from Monte Cassino; edited by T. M. Auracher and H. Stadler, in Rom. Forsch. I, 49-105; X, 181-247 and 368-446; XI, 1-121; XII, 161-243.

[2487] Cod. Bam. L-III-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cod. Bam. L-III-9.

[2488] PW “Dioskurides.” A fairly early MS is CU Jesus 44, 12-13th century, fols. 17-145r, “diascorides per modum alphabeti de virtutibus herbarum et compositione olerum.” I have not seen it but, if correctly dated, it and Bologna University Library 378, 12th century, which is said to differ from the printed editions, are too early to be Peter of Abano’s version.

[2488] PW “Dioskurides.” An early manuscript is CU Jesus 44, 12th-13th century, fols. 17-145r, “Dioscorides arranged alphabetically by the virtues of herbs and the composition of vegetables.” I haven't seen it, but if the dating is correct, this and Bologna University Library 378, 12th century, which is said to differ from the printed editions, are too early to be Peter of Abano’s version.

[2489] Explicit dyascorides quem petrus paduanensis legendo corexit et exponendo quae utiliora sunt in lucem deduxit, Colle, 1478. Dioscorides digestus alphabetico ordine additis annotatiunculis brevibus et tractatu aquarum, Lugduni, 1512. And see Chap. 70, Appendix II.

[2489] Explicit Dyascorides, which Peter of Padua edited and explained to highlight its most useful parts, Colle, 1478. Dioscorides arranged in alphabetical order with added brief annotations and a treatise on waters, Lyon, 1512. And see Chap. 70, Appendix II.

[2490] I have read it in BN 6820, fol. 1r, as well as in the 1478 edition.

[2490] I have read it in BN 6820, fol. 1r, as well as in the 1478 edition.

[2491] A work by Serapion which Simon Cordo of Genoa translated from Arabic into Latin with the help of Abraham, a Jew of Tortosa. Serapion states at the beginning that his work is a combination of Dioscorides and of the work of Galen on medicinal simples. Aggregator was printed in 1479, Liber Serapionis aggregatus in medicinis simplicibus. Translatio Symonis Ianuensis interprete Abraam iudeo tortuosiensi de arabico in latinum.

[2491] A work by Serapion which Simon Cordo from Genoa translated from Arabic into Latin with the help of Abraham, a Jew from Tortosa. Serapion mentions at the beginning that his work is a mix of Dioscorides and Galen's work on medicinal plants. Aggregator was printed in 1479, Liber Serapionis aggregatus in medicinis simplicibus. Translatio Symonis Ianuensis interprete Abraam iudeo tortuosiensi de arabico in latinum.

[2492] Ruska (1912), p. 5, says that Dioscorides, V, 84-133, among other things describes “eine ganze Reihe von höchst zweifelhaften Steinen mit unglaublichen Wirkungen die in den Arabischen Arzneimittelverzeichnissen und Steinbüchern niederkehren.”

[2492] Ruska (1912), p. 5, says that Dioscorides, V, 84-133, among other things describes “a whole series of highly questionable stones with incredible effects that are recorded in Arabic medicinal texts and stone books.”

[2493] Amplon. Folio 41, fols. 36-7; Montpellier 277, caps. 46-67 of the treatise entitled, Liber aristotelis de lapidibus preciosis secundum verba sapientium antiquorum.

[2493] Amplon. Folio 41, fols. 36-7; Montpellier 277, caps. 46-67 of the treatise entitled, Liber aristotelis de lapidibus preciosis secundum verba sapientium antiquorum.

[2494] Sloane 3848, 17th century, fols. 36-40.

[2494] Sloane 3848, 17th century, fols. 36-40.

[2495] Macer Floridus de viribus herbarum una cum Walafridi Strabonis, Othonis Cremonensis et Ioannis Folcz carminibus similis argumenti, ed. Ludovicus Choulant, 1832.

[2495] Macer Floridus on the Properties of Herbs along with Walafrid Strabo, Otho of Cremona, and John Folcz's poems on similar topics, ed. Louis Choulant, 1832.

[2496] V. Rose himself corrected (Hermes, VIII, 330-1) the strange statement which he had made (Hermes, VIII, 63) that the name “Macer” is not found in connection with this work until MSS of the 14th and 15th centuries. Both the treatise and the name are frequent in the earlier MSS.

[2496] V. Rose himself corrected (Hermes, VIII, 330-1) the strange claim he had made (Hermes, VIII, 63) that the name “Macer” isn’t found in relation to this work until manuscripts from the 14th and 15th centuries. Both the treatise and the name are common in the earlier manuscripts.

[2497] Cotton, Vitellius C, III.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Cotton, Vitellius C, III.

[2498] The Dane, Harpestreng, who died in 1244, translated and commented upon the poem; published by Christian Molbech, Copenhagen, 1826.

[2498] The Dane, Harpestreng, who died in 1244, translated and commented on the poem; published by Christian Molbech, Copenhagen, 1826.

[2499] There are a large number in the MSS collections of the British Museum alone. Some said to be of the 12th century are Harleian 4346, and at Erfurt Amplon, Octavo 62a and 62b.

[2499] There are many in the manuscript collections of the British Museum alone. Some that are said to be from the 12th century include Harleian 4346 and at Erfurt Amplon, Octavo 62a and 62b.

[2500] See the British Museum catalogue of printed books. I have used besides Choulant’s text of 1832 an illustrated octavo edition probably of 1489. The poem also appears in medical collections such as Medici antiqui omnes, Aldus, Venice, 1547, fols. 223-46.

[2500] Check out the British Museum catalog of printed books. I've also referenced Choulant’s text from 1832 and an illustrated octavo edition likely from 1489. The poem is also included in medical collections like Medici antiqui omnes, Aldus, Venice, 1547, pages 223-46.

[2501] Choulant (1832) Preface.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Choulant (1832) Introduction.

[2502] Choulant (1832) Prolegomena ad Macrum, p. 14.

[2502] Choulant (1832) Prolegomena to Macrum, p. 14.

[2503] See the description of Ligusticum, lines 900-6.

[2503] Check out the description of Ligusticum, lines 900-6.

[2504] Often printed: ed. F. A. Reuss, Würzburg, 1834; in Migne PL 114, 1119-30.

[2504] Frequently published: ed. F. A. Reuss, Würzburg, 1834; in Migne PL 114, 1119-30.

[2505] H. Stadler, Die Quellen des Macer Floridus, in Sudhoff (1909).

[2505] H. Stadler, The Sources of Macer Floridus, in Sudhoff (1909).

[2506] Stadler, op. cit.; Choulant (1832), p. 4.

[2506] Stadler, op. cit.; Choulant (1832), p. 4.

[2507] “Macer scripsit metrico stilo librum. de viribus herbarum,”—Stadler (1909), 65.

[2507] “Macer wrote a book in verse about the powers of herbs,”—Stadler (1909), 65.

[2508] It was, however, a good deal subject to later interpolation.

[2508] It was, however, quite a bit subject to later additions.

[2509] Choulant (1832) adds as Macri spuria 487 lines concerning twenty herbs.

[2509] Choulant (1832) includes as Macri spuria 487 lines about twenty herbs.

In Vienna 3207, 15th century, fols. 1-50, Macer Floridus, De viribus herbarum; fols. 50-52, Pseudo-Macer, De animalibus et lignis.

In Vienna 3207, 15th century, fols. 1-50, Macer Floridus, On the Powers of Herbs; fols. 50-52, Pseudo-Macer, On Animals and Woods.

[2510] Lines 1901-2, Quae, quamvis natura potens concedere posset Vana tamen nobis et anilia iure videntur.

[2510] Lines 1901-2, Which, although nature might be able to grant Yet seem to us empty and worthless by right.

[2511] Lines 1881-3, Hanc herbam gestando manu si queris ab egro Dic frater quid agis? bene si responderit eger, Vivet, si vero male, spes est nulla salutis.

[2511] Lines 1881-3, If you want to heal by handling this herb, Tell me, brother, how are you? If he answers well, he'll live; if not, there’s no hope for his health.

[2512] Herb 54, lines 1728-.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Herb 54, lines 1728-.

[2513] Herb 49, lines 1617-27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Herb 49, lines 1617-27.

[2514] Herb 67, lines 2095-.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Herb 67, lines 2095-.

[2515] Herb 51, lines 1685-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Herb 51, lines 1685-9.

[2516] Herb 52.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Herb 52.

[2517] Herb 34, lines 1135-8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Herb 34, lines 1135-8.

[2518] Herb 41, lines 1421-2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Herb 41, lines 1421-2.

[2519] Herb 50, lines 1641-63.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Herb 50, lines 1641-63.

[2520] Herb 69, Cyminum, lines 2118-9, “Hoc orthopnoicis miram praestare medelam Experti dicunt cum pusce saepius haustum.”

[2520] Herb 69, Cyminum, lines 2118-9, “Those who have tried it say that it provides a remarkable remedy for breathing difficulties when taken frequently.”

[2521] Vienna 2532, 12th century, fols. 106-17, “Experimenta Macri. Ad dolorem capitis. Accipe balsamum et instilla .../ ... adde sucum celidonie et superpone vulneribus.”

[2521] Vienna 2532, 12th century, fols. 106-17, “Experimenta Macri. For headaches. Take balsam and instill .../ ... add the juice of calaminth and place it on the wounds.”

Arundel 295, 14th century, fols. 222-33, “Experimenta Macri collecta sub certis capitulis a Gotefrido.”

Arundel 295, 14th century, fols. 222-33, “Collected experiments of Macri under certain headings by Gotefrido.”

[2522] R. L. Poole, Medieval Thought, 1884, pp. 19, 21.

[2522] R. L. Poole, Medieval Thought, 1884, pp. 19, 21.

[2523] Migne, PL 70, 1146.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PL 70, 1146.

[2524] Anicii Manlii Severini Boetii Philosophiae Consolationis Libri quinque, ed. R. Peiper, Lipsiae, 1871, pp. xxxix-xlvi, li-lxvii. See also Manitius (1911), pp. 33-5.

[2524] Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius The Consolation of Philosophy Five Books, ed. R. Peiper, Leipzig, 1871, pp. xxxix-xlvi, li-lxvii. See also Manitius (1911), pp. 33-5.

It was by seeking comfort in The Consolation of Philosophy after the death of Beatrice that Dante was led into a new world of literature, science, and philosophy, as he tells us in his Convivio; cited by Orr (1913), p. 1.

It was by finding solace in The Consolation of Philosophy after Beatrice's death that Dante entered a new realm of literature, science, and philosophy, as he mentions in his Convivio; cited by Orr (1913), p. 1.

[2525] Manitius (1911), pp. 29-32.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Manitius (1911), pp. 29-32.

[2526] Ibid., 26-8. At the time I went through the various catalogues of MSS in the British Museum item by item it was not my intention to include Boethius in this investigation, and I am therefore unable to say whether the Museum has MSS which may throw further light upon the problems connected with the mathematical treatises ascribed to Boethius. Manitius mentions no English MSS in this connection, but there are likely to be some at London, Oxford, or Cambridge.

[2526] Ibid., 26-8. When I was reviewing the various catalogs of manuscripts at the British Museum one by one, I did not plan to include Boethius in this study, so I can't confirm whether the Museum has any manuscripts that might provide additional insights into the issues related to the mathematical works attributed to Boethius. Manitius does not mention any English manuscripts in this regard, but it's probable that there are some in London, Oxford, or Cambridge.

[2527] Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy, translated from the Latin by George Colville, 1556; ed. with Introduction by E. B. Box, London, 1897, p. xviii.

[2527] Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy, translated from the Latin by George Colville, 1556; edited with an Introduction by E. B. Box, London, 1897, p. xviii.

[2528] Manitius (1911) pp. 35-6; Usener, Anecdota Holderi, Bonn, 1877, pp. 48-59; E. K. Rand, Der dem Boethius zugeschriebene Traktat De fide catholica, 1901. The De fide catholica, however, is not mentioned by Cassiodorus and is regarded as spurious.

[2528] Manitius (1911) pp. 35-6; Usener, Anecdota Holderi, Bonn, 1877, pp. 48-59; E. K. Rand, Der dem Boethius zugeschriebene Traktat De fide catholica, 1901. The De fide catholica, however, is not mentioned by Cassiodorus and is considered false.

[2529] De consol. philos., III, 8, 21.

[2529] Consolation of Philosophy, III, 8, 21.

[2530] De consol. philos., IV, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Consolation of Philosophy, IV, 1.

[2531] Ibid., III, 9, 1; III, 12, 14; III, 9, 10; III, 12, 99; II, 8, 13.

[2531] Same source., III, 9, 1; III, 12, 14; III, 9, 10; III, 12, 99; II, 8, 13.

[2532] Ibid., IV, 6, 10, “In hac enim de providentiae simplicitate, de fati serie, de repentinis casibus, de cognitione ac praedestinatione divina, de arbitrii libertate quaeri solet.” To the ensuing argument are devoted the sixth and seventh chapters of Book IV and all of Book V.

[2532] Same source., IV, 6, 10, "In this simplicity of providence, in the series of fate, in sudden occurrences, in divine knowledge and predestination, and in the freedom of choice, questions are often asked." The sixth and seventh chapters of Book IV and all of Book V are dedicated to the following argument.

[2533] Ibid., IV, 6, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., IV, 6, 21.

[2534] Ibid., IV, 6, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., IV, 6, 30.

[2535] Ibid., IV, 6, 48.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., IV, 6, 48.

[2536] Ibid., IV, 6, 77.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., IV, 6, 77.

[2537] De consol. philos., V, 4-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Consolation of Philosophy, V, 4-6.

[2538] Ibid., IV, 6, 58.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., IV, 6, 58.

[2539] Ibid., V, 2-3 and 6, 110, “tametsi nullam naturae habeat necessitatem atqui deus ea futura quae ex arbitrii libertate proveniunt praesentia contuetur.”

[2539] Ibid., V, 2-3 and 6, 110, “even though nature has no necessity, God sees what will happen from the freedom of choice.”

[2540] Ibid., V, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., V, 1.

[2541] De musica libri quinque, I, 1-2 and 27; in Migne, PL 63, 1167-1300.

[2541] On Music: Five Books, I, 1-2 and 27; in Migne, PL 63, 1167-1300.

[2542] Migne, PL 83, 963-1018. In Harleian 3099, 1134 A. D., the Etymologies at fols. 1-154, are followed by the De natura rerum, the last chapter of which (fol. 164v) is numbered 42 instead of 48 as in Migne. But up to chapter 27, Utrum sidera animam habeant, the division into chapters seems the same as in the printed text.

[2542] Migne, PL 83, 963-1018. In Harleian 3099, from 1134 A.D., the Etymologies on pages 1-154 are followed by the De natura rerum, the last chapter of which (page 164v) is numbered 42 instead of 48 as it is in Migne. However, up to chapter 27, Utrum sidera animam habeant, the chapter divisions appear to be the same as in the printed text.

[2543] Migne, PL 82, 73-728, a reprint of the edition of Arevalus, Rome, 1796. Large portions of the Etymologies have been translated into English with an introduction of some seventy pages by E. Brehaut, An Encyclopedist of the Dark Ages; Isidore of Seville, 1912, in Columbia University Studies in History, etc., vol. 48, pp. 1-274. For Isidorean bibliography see pp. 17, 22-3, 46-7 of Brehaut’s introduction.

[2543] Migne, PL 82, 73-728, a reprint of the edition by Arevalus, Rome, 1796. Large portions of the Etymologies have been translated into English, accompanied by an introduction of about seventy pages by E. Brehaut, An Encyclopedist of the Dark Ages; Isidore of Seville, 1912, in Columbia University Studies in History, etc., vol. 48, pp. 1-274. For a bibliography on Isidore, see pp. 17, 22-3, 46-7 of Brehaut’s introduction.

[2544] Manitius (1911), pp. 60-61; Brehaut (1912), p. 34.

[2544] Manitius (1911), pp. 60-61; Brehaut (1912), p. 34.

[2545] To say, for example, that “so hospitable an attitude toward profane learning as Isidore displayed ... was never surpassed throughout the middle ages” (Brehaut, p. 31), is unfair to many later writers, as our discussion of the natural science of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries will show.

[2545] To claim, for example, that “no one was more welcoming to secular knowledge than Isidore... during the Middle Ages” (Brehaut, p. 31) is unfair to many later writers, as our discussion of the natural sciences in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries will demonstrate.

[2546] Brehaut (1912), p. 34.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Brehaut (1912), p. 34.

[2547] Migne, PL 82, 73, “Opus de origine quarumdam rerum, ex veteris lectionis recordatione collectum, atque ita in quibusdam locis adnotatum, sicut exstat conscriptum stylo maiorum.”

[2547] Migne, PL 82, 73, “Work on the Origin of Certain Things, collected from ancient readings and noted in certain places, as it is written in the style of our predecessors.”

[2548] See, for example, Etymol., VIII, 7, 3, “Vates a vi mentis appellatos, Varro auctor est.”

[2548] See, for example, Etymol., VIII, 7, 3, “Poets are called from the power of the mind, Varro is the source.”

[2549] Etymol., XX, 2, 37.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Etymology., 20, 2, 37.

[2550] Cassiodorus, however, urged the monks of the sixth century who cared for the sick to read Hippocrates and Galen as well as Dioscorides and Caelius Aurelianus; Brehaut (1912), p. 87, note, citing PL 70, 1146, in the De instit. divin. litterarum.

[2550] Cassiodorus, however, encouraged the monks of the sixth century who looked after the sick to study Hippocrates and Galen, along with Dioscorides and Caelius Aurelianus; Brehaut (1912), p. 87, note, citing PL 70, 1146, in the De instit. divin. litterarum.

[2551] Etymol., XII, 4, 6 and 6, 34.

[2551] Etymol., XII, 4, 6 and 6, 34.

[2552] Ibid., XII, 4, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 12, 4, 12.

[2553] Ibid., XII, 6, 56.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., XII, 6, 56.

[2554] Ibid., XVII, 7, 17 and 9, 36; XIX, 17, 8.

[2554] Ibid., XVII, 7, 17 and 9, 36; XIX, 17, 8.

[2555] Ibid., XVII, 9, 85.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., XVII, 9, 85.

[2556] Ibid., XVII, 9, 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., XVII, 9, 30.

[2557] Etymol., XVI, 15, 21-26.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Etymology., 16, 15, 21-26.

[2558] Ibid., XI, 3, 4, “quod plurimis etiam experimentis probatum est.”

[2558] Same source., XI, 3, 4, “which has been proven by many experiments.”

[2559] Brehaut (1912), p. 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Brehaut (1912), p. 3.

[2560] Etymol., XVI, 26, 10, from Epiphanius, Liber de ponderibus et mensuris.

[2560] Etymol., XVI, 26, 10, from Epiphanius, Book on Weights and Measures.

[2561] Hence, presumably, the sextarii, from sex.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ So, presumably, the sextarii, from sex.

“Mens hausti nulla sanie polluta veneni
Incantata perit....”

[2563] Migne, PL 83, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PL 83, 9.

[2564] For Rabanus’ account see Migne, PL 110, 1097-1110; Burchard, PL 140, 839 et seq.; Ivo, PL 161, 760 et seq.; Hincmar, PL 125, 716-29. Moreover, Burchard continues to follow Rabanus word for word for some ten columns after the conclusion of their mutual excerpt from Isidore, while Ivo is identical with Burchard for fifteen more columns. In “Some Medieval Conceptions of Magic,” The Monist, January, 1915, XXV, 107-39, I stated (p. 109, note 2) that I thought that I was the first to point out the identity of these four accounts with Isidore’s.

[2564] For Rabanus’ account see Migne, PL 110, 1097-1110; Burchard, PL 140, 839 et seq.; Ivo, PL 161, 760 et seq.; Hincmar, PL 125, 716-29. Additionally, Burchard continues to follow Rabanus word for word for about ten columns after they finish their shared excerpt from Isidore, while Ivo is identical to Burchard for fifteen more columns. In “Some Medieval Conceptions of Magic,” The Monist, January 1915, XXV, 107-39, I mentioned (p. 109, note 2) that I believed I was the first to point out the similarity of these four accounts with Isidore’s.

Since then, however, I have noticed that Manitius (1911), p. 299, notes the identity of Rabanus with Isidore, “Dass Hraban sich auch sonst ganz an Isidor anlehnt, beweist er in der Schrift De consanguineorum nuptiis im Abschnitt de magicis artibus (Migne, 109, 1097ff.) der aus Etym. 8, 9 stammt.” Also Mr. C. C. I. Webb, in his 1909 edition of the Polycraticus notes John of Salisbury’s borrowings from Isidore and Ivo of Chartres. Finally, J. Hansen, Zauberwahn, Inquisition, und Hexenprozess im Mittelalter, 1900, at p. 49 notes that Isidore’s sketch of the history of magic keeps recurring in medieval writings, at p. 71 the dependence of Rabanus and Hincmar upon Isidore, and perhaps he somewhere notes the identity with the foregoing of the accounts of magic in Burchard and the other decretalists, but in the absence of an index to his volume I do not find such a passage. At p. 128, however, he notes that John of Salisbury’s description of magic is in part taken word for word from Isidore and Rabanus.

Since then, however, I've noticed that Manitius (1911), p. 299, points out the connection between Rabanus and Isidore, stating, “That Hraban leans heavily on Isidore is proven in the writing De consanguineorum nuptiis in the section de magicis artibus (Migne, 109, 1097ff.), which comes from Etym. 8, 9.” Also, Mr. C. C. I. Webb, in his 1909 edition of the Polycraticus, highlights John of Salisbury’s borrowing from Isidore and Ivo of Chartres. Finally, J. Hansen, in Zauberwahn, Inquisition, und Hexenprozess im Mittelalter, 1900, on p. 49, notes that Isidore’s overview of the history of magic appears repeatedly in medieval texts, and on p. 71 mentions the reliance of Rabanus and Hincmar on Isidore. He might also mention the similarity in the accounts of magic found in Burchard and other decretalists, but without an index in his volume, I cannot locate such a reference. However, on p. 128, he mentions that John of Salisbury’s depiction of magic is partly taken word for word from Isidore and Rabanus.

Professor Hamilton, in one of his papers on Storm-Making Springs, which appeared at about the same time as my article (Romanic Review, V, 3, 1914; but, owing probably to war conditions, this issue did not actually appear until after the number of The Monist containing my article), came near noting the same thing when he spoke (p. 225) of Isidore’s chapter as “quoted at length” by Gratian—who seems to me, however, to give the substance of Isidore’s chapter rather than his exact wording—and further noted that four lines of Latin which he quoted were found alike in Rabanus, Hincmar, Ivo, and the Polycraticus of John of Salisbury.

Professor Hamilton, in one of his papers on Storm-Making Springs, which came out around the same time as my article (Romanic Review, V, 3, 1914; but, probably due to wartime conditions, this issue didn’t actually publish until after the issue of The Monist containing my article), almost noted the same thing when he mentioned (p. 225) Isidore’s chapter as “quoted at length” by Gratian—who seems to me to provide the essence of Isidore’s chapter rather than his exact wording. He also noted that four lines of Latin he quoted appear similarly in Rabanus, Hincmar, Ivo, and the Polycraticus of John of Salisbury.

In my article I also stated: “Professor Burr, in a note to his paper on ‘The Literature of Witchcraft’ (American Historical Association Papers, IV (1890), p. 241) has described the accounts of Rabanus and Hincmar but without explicitly noting their close resemblance, although he characterizes Rabanus’ article as ‘mainly compiled.’” Professor Burr subsequently wrote to me, “That I did not mention the relation in my old paper on “The Literature of Witchcraft” was partly because they borrowed from other sources as well and partly because Isidore is himself a compiler. I hoped to come back to the matter in a more careful study of the whole genesis of these stock passages.”

In my article, I also mentioned: “Professor Burr, in a note to his paper on ‘The Literature of Witchcraft’ (American Historical Association Papers, IV (1890), p. 241) described the accounts of Rabanus and Hincmar but didn’t explicitly point out their close similarity, even though he calls Rabanus’ article ‘mainly compiled.’” Professor Burr later wrote to me, “The reason I didn’t mention the connection in my old paper on ‘The Literature of Witchcraft’ was partly because they borrowed from other sources as well and partly because Isidore is himself a compiler. I intended to revisit the issue in a more detailed study of the entire origin of these standard passages.”

[2565] See below, chapter 60 on Aquinas.

[2565] See below, chapter 60 on Aquinas.

[2566] Etymol., VIII, 11, 15-17; Differentiarum, II, 14.

[2566] Etymol., VIII, 11, 15-17; Differentiarum, II, 14.

[2567] Indeed, Differentiarum, II, 39, he defines astrology as he had astronomy in Etymol., III, 27. In Etymol., III, 25, he ascribes the invention of astronomy to the Egyptians and that of astrology to the Chaldeans.

[2567] Indeed, Differentiarum, II, 39, he defines astrology as he had astronomy in Etymol., III, 27. In Etymol., III, 25, he attributes the invention of astronomy to the Egyptians and astrology to the Chaldeans.

[2568] Caps. 14 and 27.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hats. 14 and 27.

[2569] De nat. rer., III, 4; PL 83, 968.

[2569] On Natural Things, III, 4; PL 83, 968.

[2570] Ibid., XIX, 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., XIX, 2.

[2571] Ibid., XXII, 2-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, XXII, 2-3.

[2572] Ibid., IX, 1-2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., IX, 1-2.

[2573] Ibid., XXVI, 15; Etymol., III, 71, 16.

[2573] Same source., XXVI, 15; Word Origins., III, 71, 16.

[2574] Etymol., XIV, 5, “vim sideris.”

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Etymology., XIV, 5, “force of the star.”

[2575] Ibid., IX, 2, “secundum diversitatem enim coeli.”

[2575] Same source., IX, 2, “according to the diversity of the heavens.”

[2576] Ibid., IV, 13, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., IV, 13, 4.

[2577] De nat. rerum, XVIII, 5-7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Natural Things, XVIII, 5-7.

[2578] History of the Anglo-Saxons, III, 403.

[2578] History of the Anglo-Saxons, III, 403.

[2579] Illustrations of the History of Medieval Thought, 1884, p. 20; p. 18 in 1920 edition.

[2579] Illustrations of the History of Medieval Thought, 1884, p. 20; p. 18 in 1920 edition.

[2580] Migne, PL 90, 293-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PL 90, 293-4.

[2581] A few MSS, chiefly from France, earlier than the 12th century, are: BN 5543, 9th century; BN 15685, 9th century; BN nouv. acq. 1612, 1615, and 1632, all 9th or 10th century; Amiens 222, 9th century; Cambrai 925, 9th century; Ivrea 3, 9th century; Ivrea 6, 10th century; Berlin 128, 8-9th century; Berlin 130, 9-10th century; CLM 18158, 11th century; CLM 21557, 11th century.

[2581] A few manuscripts, mostly from France, that date before the 12th century include: BN 5543, 9th century; BN 15685, 9th century; BN nouv. acq. 1612, 1615, and 1632, all from the 9th or 10th century; Amiens 222, 9th century; Cambrai 925, 9th century; Ivrea 3, 9th century; Ivrea 6, 10th century; Berlin 128, 8th-9th century; Berlin 130, 9th-10th century; CLM 18158, 11th century; CLM 21557, 11th century.

I have not noted the MSS of Bede in the British Museum and Bodleian collections.

I haven't recorded the manuscripts of Bede in the British Museum and Bodleian collections.

[2582] PL 90, 187-278; the text occupies but a small portion of these columns.

[2582] PL 90, 187-278; the text takes up just a small part of these columns.

[2583] Ibid., Cap. 14.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., Cap. 14.

[2584] Ibid., Cap. 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., Cap. 24.

[2585] Ibid., Cap. 25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., Cap. 25.

[2586] In Samuelem prophetam allegorica expositio, IV, 7; PL 91, 701.

[2586] An Allegorical Interpretation of the Prophet Samuel, IV, 7; PL 91, 701.

[2587] De tonitruis libellus ad Herefridum, PL 90, 609-14.

[2587] A small book on thunder to Herefrid, PL 90, 609-14.

[2588] See below, chapter 29.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See chapter 29 below.

[2589] The Aenigmatum Liber forms a part of the Liber de septenario et de metris in Aldhelm’s works as edited by Giles, Oxford, 1844, and reprinted in Migne, PL 89, 183-99.

[2589] The Aenigmatum Liber is part of the Liber de septenario et de metris in Aldhelm's works, edited by Giles, Oxford, 1844, and reprinted in Migne, PL 89, 183-99.

[2590] Cantimpré’s citations of Adhelmus seem almost certainly drawn from the Aenigmata in the cases of Leo, ciconia, hirundinus, nycticorax, salamander, luligo (or, loligo), perna, draguntia lapis (natrix), myrmicoleon, colossus, and molossus. On the other hand, the citations concerning onocentaur do not correspond to the riddle De monocero sive unicorni; the two accounts of Scylla are different; and I do not find cacus or onager or harpy or siren or locust or the Indian ants larger than foxes in the Riddles as edited by Giles.

[2590] Cantimpré’s references to Adhelmus are likely taken from the Aenigmata in the cases of Leo, ciconia, hirundinus, nycticorax, salamander, luligo (or, loligo), perna, draguntia lapis (natrix), myrmicoleon, colossus, and molossus. However, the citations about onocentaur do not match the riddle De monocero sive unicorni; the two descriptions of Scylla are different; and I do not see cacus or onager or harpy or siren or locust or the Indian ants larger than foxes in the Riddles as edited by Giles.

The passages in which Thomas of Cantimpré cites Adhelmus are printed together by Pitra (1855) III, 425-7.

The sections where Thomas of Cantimpré mentions Adhelmus are collected by Pitra (1855) III, 425-7.

[2591] Pitra (1855) III, xxvi. Only in the case of the salamander does Pitra say, “Thomas huc adduxit Adhelmi Shirbrunensis aenigma de Salamandra vatemque a philosopho clare distinxit.”

[2591] Pitra (1855) III, xxvi. Only in the case of the salamander does Pitra say, “Thomas brought here the riddle about the salamander and clearly distinguished it from a philosopher.”

[2592] I have used the text in Migne, PL vol. 77.

[2592] I have used the text in Migne, PL vol. 77.

[2593] Variarum IV, Epist. 22-23, Migne, PL 69, 624-25.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Variarum IV, Epist. 22-23, Migne, PL 69, 624-25.

[2594] I derive the following facts from E. C. Quiggin, “Irish Literature,” in EB V, 622 et seq., where further bibliography is given.

[2594] I gather the following information from E. C. Quiggin's “Irish Literature,” in EB V, 622 et seq., where additional references can be found.

[2595] “The Gaelic medical MSS, whether preserved in Ireland, Scotland, or elsewhere, ... are all, or nearly all, of foreign origin”:—Mackinnon, in the International Congress of Medicine, London, 1913, p. 413.

[2595] “The Gaelic medical manuscripts, whether kept in Ireland, Scotland, or other places, ... are all, or almost all, of foreign origin”:—Mackinnon, in the International Congress of Medicine, London, 1913, p. 413.

[2596] G. Flügel, Alkindi, genannt der Philosoph der Araber, ein Vorbild seiner Zeit, Leipzig, 1857.

[2596] G. Flügel, Alkindi, called the Philosopher of the Arabs, a model of his time, Leipzig, 1857.

F. Dieterici, Die Naturanschauung und Naturphilosophie der Araber im zehnten Jahrhundert, Berlin, 1861.

F. Dieterici, The Natural Worldview and Philosophy of Nature of the Arabs in the Tenth Century, Berlin, 1861.

O. Loth, Al-Kindi als Astrolog. in Morgenländische Forschungen. Festschrift für Fleischer, Leipzig, 1875, pp. 263-309.

O. Loth, Al-Kindi als Astrolog. in Morgenländische Forschungen. Festschrift für Fleischer, Leipzig, 1875, pp. 263-309.

A. Nagy, Die philosophischen Abhandlungen des Al-Kindis, 1897 in Beiträge z. Gesch. d. Philos. d. Mittelalt., II, 5.

A. Nagy, Die philosophischen Abhandlungen des Al-Kindis, 1897 in Beiträge z. Gesch. d. Philos. d. Mittelalt., II, 5.

A. A. Björnbo and S. Vogl, Alkindi, Tideus, und Pseudo-Euclid, Drei Optische Werke, Leipzig, 1911, in Abhandl. z. Gesch. d. Math. Wiss., XXVI, 3.

A. A. Björnbo and S. Vogl, Alkindi, Tideus, and Pseudo-Euclid, Three Optical Works, Leipzig, 1911, in Contributions to the History of Mathematical Knowledge, XXVI, 3.

For further bibliography see the last-named work and Steinschneider (1905) 23-4, 47, (1906) 31-33.

For more references, see the last-mentioned work and Steinschneider (1905) 23-4, 47, (1906) 31-33.

The Apology of Al Kindy (Sir Wm. Muir, London, 1882) is a defense of Christianity by another writer of about the same time.

The Apology of Al Kindy (Sir Wm. Muir, London, 1882) is a defense of Christianity by another author from around the same period.

[2597] Astrorum iudicis Alkindi, Gaphar de pluviis imbribus et ventis ac aeris mutatione, ex officina Petri Liechtenstein: Venetiis, 1507.

[2597] The Judge of the Stars, Al-Kindi, Gaphar on rains, storms, winds, and changes in the weather, from the workshop of Peter Liechtenstein: Venice, 1507.

[2598] Amplon. Quarto 151, fols. 17-19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Amplon. Volume 151, pages 17-19.

[2599] In the 1412 catalogue of Amplonius, Math. 48 was “Theorica Alkindi de radiis stellicis seu arcium magicarum vel de phisicis ligaturis”; and at present Amplon. Quarto 349, 14th century, fols. 47v, 65v, 66r-v, 16r-v, 29r, contains “Liber Alkindi de radiis Omnes homines qui sensibilia / Explicit theorica artis magis (sic). Explicit Alkindi de radiis stellicis.”

[2599] In the 1412 catalog of Amplonius, Math. 48 was “Theoretical Works of Alkindus on Stellar Rays or Magical Arts or Physical Bindings”; and currently, Amplon. Quarto 349, 14th century, fols. 47v, 65v, 66r-v, 16r-v, 29r, includes “Book of Alkindus on Rays All Humans Who Perceive / Explicit theory of the art more (thus). Explicit Alkindus on stellar rays.”

Harleian 13, 13th century, given by John of London to St. Augustine’s Abbey, Canterbury (#1166, James, 330-1), fols. 166-74, “de radiis stellicis Omnes homines qui sensibilia / explicit Theoria Artis Magice Alkindi.”

Harleian 13, 13th century, given by John of London to St. Augustine’s Abbey, Canterbury (#1166, James, 330-1), fols. 166-74, “On the rays of the stars, all people who sense / explicit Theory of the Art of Magic Alkindi.”

Digby 91, 16th century, fols. 66-80, Alkindus de radiis stellarum, “Omnes homines qui sensibilia sensu percipiunt....”

Digby 91, 16th century, fols. 66-80, Alkindus de radiis stellarum, “All humans who perceive sensory things through their senses....”

Digby 183, end 14th century, fols. 38-45.

Digby 183, end of the 14th century, pages 38-45.

Selden supra 76 (Bernard 3464), fols. 47r-60v, “Incipit theoreita artium magicarum. Capitulum de origine scientie. Omnes homines qui sensibilia sensu percipiunt....”; Selden 3467, #4.

Selden supra 76 (Bernard 3464), fols. 47r-60v, “Beginning the theory of magical arts. Chapter on the origin of knowledge. All people who perceive sensory information....”; Selden 3467, #4.

Canon. Misc. 370, fols. 240-59, “Explicit theoria magice artis sive libellus Alkindi de radiis stellatis anno per me Theod. scriptus Domini 1484....”

Canon. Misc. 370, fols. 240-59, “End of the theory of the magical art or the book by Alkindus on starry rays written by me, Theod., in the year 1484....”

Rawlinson C-117, 15th century (according to Macray, but since the MS once belonged to John of London it is more likely to be 13th century), fols. 157-69, “Incipit theorica Alkindi et est de causis reddendis circa operationes karacterum et conjurationes et suffumigationes et ceteris huiusmodi quae pertinent ad artem magicam. ‘Omnes homines qui sensibilia.’ ...”

Rawlinson C-117, 15th century (according to Macray, but since the manuscript once belonged to John of London it is more likely from the 13th century), fols. 157-69, “Beginning theory of Alkindus and it is about the reasons for explaining operations of characters and invocations and fumigations and other things related to the magical art. ‘All humans who are sensitive.’ ...”

BN nouv. acq. 616, 1442 A.D., Liber Jacobi Alchindi de radiis.

BN nouv. acq. 616, 1442 A.D., The Book of Jacob Alchindi on Rays.

CU Trinity 936 (R. 15, 17) 17th century, Alkyndus de Radiis.

CU Trinity 936 (R. 15, 17) 17th century, Alkyndus de Radiis.

Ste. Geneviève 2240, 17th century, fol. 32 (?)—since the treatise is listed between two others which begin at fols. 68 and 112, respectively—“Alkyndus de radiis; de virtute verborum.”

Ste. Geneviève 2240, 17th century, fol. 32 (?)—since the treatise is listed between two others which start at fols. 68 and 112, respectively—“Alkyndus on rays; on the power of words.”

Steinschneider (1906), 32, has already listed four of these MSS, but was mistaken in thinking Cotton Appendix VI, fols. 63v-70r, “Explicit Iacob alkindi de theorica planetarum,” the same treatise as The Theory of the Magic Art.

Steinschneider (1906), 32, has already listed four of these manuscripts, but he was wrong in thinking that Cotton Appendix VI, fols. 63v-70r, "Explicit Iacob alkindi de theorica planetarum," is the same treatise as The Theory of the Magic Art.

[2600] In Digby 91 Roger Bacon on Perspective is followed by Alkindi on the rays of the stars, while in Digby 183 a marginal note to Alkindi’s treatise reads “Nota hoc quod est extractum de libro Rogeri Bakun de celo et mundo, capitulo de numero celorum,” and following the work of Alkindi we have Bacon on the retardation of old age and perhaps also de radiis solaribus.

[2600] In Digby 91, Roger Bacon on Perspective is followed by Alkindi on the rays of the stars, while in Digby 183, a marginal note to Alkindi’s treatise reads, “Note that this is taken from the book of Roger Bacon on heaven and the world, in the chapter about the number of heavens.” After Alkindi's work, we have Bacon on the slowing down of old age and maybe also on solar rays.

[2601] Edited by Nagy (1897). A MS of the late 12th or early 13th century which Nagy fails to note is Digby 40, fols. 15v-25, de somno et visionibus.

[2601] Edited by Nagy (1897). A manuscript from the late 12th or early 13th century that Nagy doesn't mention is Digby 40, pages 15v-25, on sleep and visions.

[2602] Nagy, p. 18, “Quare autem videamus quasdam res antequam sint? et quare videamus res cum interpretatione significantes res antequam sint? et quare videamus res facientes nos videre contrarium earum?”

[2602] Nagy, p. 18, “But why do we see certain things before they exist? And why do we see things with interpretive meaning before they exist? And why do we see things that make us see their opposite?”

[2603] Spec. astron. cap. 7. More fully the Incipit is, “Rogatus fui quod manifestem consilia philosophorum....”

[2603] Spec. astron. cap. 7. More fully the Incipit is, “I was asked to reveal the plans of the philosophers....”

[2604] Digby 68, 14th century, fols. 124-35, Liber Alkindii de impressionibus terre et aeris accidentibus. CU Clare College 15 (Kk. 4, 2), c. 1280, fols. 8-13, “In nomine dei et eius laude Epistola Alkindi de rebus aeribus et pluviis cum sermone aggregato et utili de arabico in latinum translata.”

[2604] Digby 68, 14th century, fols. 124-35, The Book of Alkindus on the effects of the earth and the incidents of the air. CU Clare College 15 (Kk. 4, 2), c. 1280, fols. 8-13, “In the name of God and in praise of Him, the Letter of Alkindus concerning the elements of the air and rains, along with a useful compiled discourse translated from Arabic into Latin.”

Steinschneider (1906) 32 gives the title as De impressionibus aeris, and suggests that it is the same as a De pluviis or De nubibus, which seems to be the case, as they have the same Incipit—Steinschneider (1905) 13—as does a De imbribus in Digby 176, 14th century, fols. 61-63. Steinschneider also suggested that BN 7332, De impressionibus planetarum was probably the same treatise; and this is shown to be true by the Explicit of Alkindi’s treatise in another MS, Cotton Appendix VI, fol. 63v, “Explicit liber de impressionibus planetarum secundum iacobum alkindi.” See also BN 7316, 7328, 7440, 7482.

Steinschneider (1906) 32 lists the title as De impressionibus aeris and suggests that it might be the same as De pluviis or De nubibus, which seems to be accurate since they share the same Incipit—Steinschneider (1905) 13—similar to De imbribus in Digby 176, 14th century, fols. 61-63. Steinschneider also proposed that BN 7332, De impressionibus planetarum, was likely the same work; this is confirmed by the Explicit of Alkindi’s treatise in another manuscript, Cotton Appendix VI, fol. 63v, which states, “Explicit liber de impressionibus planetarum secundum iacobum alkindi.” See also BN 7316, 7328, 7440, 7482.

The opening words of an anonymous Tractatus de meteorologia in Vienna 2385, 13th century, fols. 46-49, show that it is the Alkindi. A very similar treatise on weather prediction, De subradiis planetarum or De pluviis, is ascribed to Haly and exists in three Digby MSS (67, fol. 12v; 93, fol. 183v; 147, fol. 117v) and in some other MSS noted by Steinschneider. It belongs, I suspect, together with a brief Haly de dispositione aeris (Digby 92, fol. 5) which Steinschneider listed separately.

The opening lines of an anonymous Tractatus de meteorologia in Vienna 2385, from the 13th century, fols. 46-49, indicate that it is the Alkindi. A very similar work on weather prediction, De subradiis planetarum or De pluviis, is attributed to Haly and exists in three Digby manuscripts (67, fol. 12v; 93, fol. 183v; 147, fol. 117v) as well as in some other manuscripts mentioned by Steinschneider. I suspect it belongs, along with a short Haly de dispositione aeris (Digby 92, fol. 5) that Steinschneider listed separately.

[2605] Some notion of the number of these astrological treatises on the weather may be had from the following group of them in a single MS.

[2605] You can get an idea of how many of these astrological writings about the weather exist from the following collection of them in a single manuscript.

Vienna 2436, 14th century, fols. 134-6, “Finitur Hermanni liber de ymbribus et pluviis”

Vienna 2436, 14th century, fols. 134-6, “Ends the book of Hermann on shadows and rains”

136-8, Iohannes Hispalensis, Tractatus de mutatione aeris

136-8, John of Hispalis, Treatise on Weather Changes

139, Haomar de pluviis

139, Haomar de rain

139-40, Idem de qualitate aeris et temporum

139-40, Same about the quality of the air and the seasons

140, de pluvia, fulgure, tonitruis et vento

140, of rain, lightning, thunder and wind

140-1, Dorochius, De hora pluvie et ventorum caloris et frigoris

140-1, Dorochius, On the Hour of Rain and Wind, Heat and Cold

141, Idem, De hora pluvie

141, Same, On the rainy hour

141-2, Alkindus, alias Dorochius, De aeris qualitatibus

141-2, Alkindus, also known as Dorochius, On the Qualities of Air

142, Idem, De imbribus

142, Same, On the rains

143, Jergis, De pluviis

143, Jergis, On the rains

198, 206, Iacobus Alkindus, Liber de significationibus planetarum et eorum naturis, alias de pluviis.

198, 206, Jacob Alkindus, Book on the meanings of planets and their natures, also on rain.

[2606] Their titles are listed by Steinschneider (1906) 99; 31-3. We may note BN 6978, 14th century, Incipit epistola Alkindi Achalis de Baldac philosophi de futurorum scientia; Corpus Christi 254, fol. 191, “de aspectibus”—a fragment from a 14th century MSS.

[2606] Their titles are listed by Steinschneider (1906) 99; 31-3. We can note BN 6978, 14th century, Incipit epistola Alkindi Achalis de Baldac philosophi de futurorum scientia; Corpus Christi 254, fol. 191, “de aspectibus”—a fragment from a 14th century MSS.

[2607] MSS of Robert’s translation of Alkindi’s Judgments are numerous in the Bodleian library: Digby 91, fol. 80-; Ashmole 179; 209; 369; 434; and extracts from it in other MSS. It opens, “Quamquam post Euclidem.”

[2607] Manuscripts of Robert’s translation of Alkindi’s Judgments are numerous in the Bodleian library: Digby 91, fol. 80-; Ashmole 179; 209; 369; 434; and extracts from it in other manuscripts. It begins, “Although after Euclid.”

[2608] CLM 392, 15th century, fol. 80-; 489, 16th century, fols. 207-21.

[2608] CLM 392, 15th century, fol. 80-; 489, 16th century, fols. 207-21.

[2609] O. Loth (1875), pp. 271-2; at 280-2 he gives the Latin of the passage in question from Albumasar, following the Arabic of Alkindi at 273-9.

[2609] O. Loth (1875), pp. 271-2; at 280-2 he provides the Latin text of the passage in question from Albumasar, following the Arabic of Alkindi at 273-9.

[2610] E. Wiedemann in Journal f. praktische Chemie, 1907, p. 73, et seq.; cited by Lippmann (1919) p. 399.

[2610] E. Wiedemann in Journal of Practical Chemistry, 1907, p. 73, et seq.; cited by Lippmann (1919) p. 399.

[2611] Bridges, Opus Maius, I, 262, note.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Bridges, Opus Maius, I, 262, note.

[2612] Steinschneider (1905), p. 47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Steinschneider (1905), p. 47.

[2613] HL 21, 499-503.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ HL 21, 499-503.

[2614] Spec. astron. cap. 6. He gives the Incipit of the Experiments of Albumasar as “Scito horam introitus” which serves to identify it with the following:

[2614] Spec. astron. cap. 6. He gives the beginning of the Experiments of Albumasar as “Know the hour of entry” which serves to link it with the following:

Amplon. Quarto 365, 12th century, fols. 1-18, liber experimentorum.

Amplon. Quarto 365, 12th century, fols. 1-18, book of experiments.

Ashmole 369-V, 13th century, fols. 103-23v, “ ... incipit liber in revolutione annorum mundi. Perfectus est liber experimentorum....”

Ashmole 369-V, 13th century, fols. 103-23v, “... beginning the book on the revolution of the years of the world. The book of experiments is complete....”

Ashmole 393, 15th century, fol. 95v, “Item Albumasar de revolutionibus annorum mundi sive de experimentis....”

Ashmole 393, 15th century, fol. 95v, “Item Albumasar on the revolutions of the years of the world or on experiments....”

BN 16204, 13th century, pp. 302-333, “Revolutio annorum mundi.... Perfectus est liber experimentorum Albumasar....”

BN 16204, 13th century, pp. 302-333, “Revolutio annorum mundi.... The book of experiments is complete Albumasar....”

Arsenal 880, 15th century, fol. 1-.

Arsenal 880, 15th century, fol. 1-.

Arsenal 1036, 14th century, fol. 104v.

Arsenal 1036, 14th century, fol. 104v.

Dijon 1045, 15th century, fol. 81-.

Dijon 1045, 15th century, fol. 81-.

Other MSS containing Experiments of Albumasar but where I am not sure of the wording of the Incipit are:

Other manuscripts containing Experiments by Albumasar, but where I'm not sure about the wording of the opening are:

Laud. Misc. 594, 14-15th century, fol. 123-, Liber experimentorum.

Laud. Misc. 594, 14-15th century, fol. 123-, Book of Experiments.

Harleian 1, fols. 31-41, de experimentis in revolutione annorum mundi.

Harleian 1, fols. 31-41, on the experiments in the cycles of the years of the world.

CLM 51, 1487, and 1503.

CLM 51, 1487, and 1503.

Vienna 2436, 14th century, following John of Spain’s translation of the Introductorium magnum at fols. 1-85 and a Liber magnarum coniunctionum at fols. 144-98, comes at fol. 242, “Liber experimentorum seu Capitula stellarum oblata regi magno Sarracenorum ab Albumasore.” The Incipit here is “Dispositio est ut dicam ab ariete sic initium” but the treatise is incomplete.

Vienna 2436, 14th century, following John of Spain’s translation of the Introductorium magnum at fols. 1-85 and a Liber magnarum coniunctionum at fols. 144-98, comes at fol. 242, “Liber experimentorum seu Capitula stellarum oblata regi magno Sarracenorum ab Albumasore.” The Incipit here is “Dispositio est ut dicam ab ariete sic initium” but the treatise is incomplete.

In some MS at Oxford which I cannot now identify the Flores of Albumasar close with the statement that the book of Experiments will follow. A different hand then adds “The following work is Albumazar on the revolutions of years,” while a third hand adds the explanation, “And according to some authorities it and the book of experiments are one,” which is the case.

In some manuscripts at Oxford that I can't currently pinpoint, the Flores of Albumasar ends with the note that the book of Experiments will come next. A different person then writes, “The next work is Albumazar on the revolutions of years,” while a third person adds the clarification, “And according to some sources, it and the book of experiments are the same,” which is accurate.

In some MSS, however, another treatise on revolutions accompanies the Experiments. In Amplon. Quarto 365 it is followed at fols. 18-27 by Sentencie de revolucione annorum, while in Laud. Misc. 594 it is preceded at fol. 106 by Liber Albumasar de revolutionibus annorum collectus a floribus antiquorum philosophorum, which is the same as the Flores.

In some manuscripts, however, another treatise on revolutions accompanies the Experiments. In Amplon. Quarto 365, it is followed at fols. 18-27 by Sentencie de revolucione annorum, while in Laud. Misc. 594, it is preceded at fol. 106 by Liber Albumasar de revolutionibus annorum collectus a floribus antiquorum philosophorum, which is the same as the Flores.

[2615] The distinction between these various works is made quite clear in BN 16204, 13th century, where at pp. 1-183 is John of Spain’s translation of the Liber introductorius maior in eight parts; at 183-302 the Conjunctions, also in eight parts; at 302-333 the Revolutio annorum mundi or Liber experimentorum; at 333-353 the Flores, and at 353-369 the De revolutione annorum in revolutione nativitatum, which opens “Omne tempus breve est operandi....” At the same time the Explicit of this treatise bears witness to the ease with which these works of Albumasar are confused, for it was at first written, “Explicit liber albumasar de revolutione annorum mundi,” and some other hand has crossed out this last word and substituted “nativitatis.”

[2615] The differences between these various works are clearly outlined in BN 16204, a 13th-century text, where on pages 1-183 is John of Spain’s translation of the Liber introductorius maior divided into eight parts; on pages 183-302 are the Conjunctions, also in eight parts; on pages 302-333 is the Revolutio annorum mundi or Liber experimentorum; on pages 333-353 are the Flores, and on pages 353-369 is the De revolutione annorum in revolutione nativitatum, which begins with “Omne tempus breve est operandi....” At the same time, the conclusion of this treatise shows how easily these works of Albumasar can be mixed up, as it was initially written, “Explicit liber albumasar de revolutione annorum mundi,” but someone later crossed out the last word and replaced it with “nativitatis.”

[2616] Conciliator, Diff. 156.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Conciliator, Diff. 156.

[2617] Laud. Misc. 594, 14-15th century, fols. 137-41, Liber Sadan, sive Albumasar in Sadan. “Dixit Sadan, Audivi Albumayar dicentem quod omnis vita viventium post Deum est sol et luna / Expliciunt excerpta de secretis Albumasar.”

[2617] Laud. Misc. 594, 14-15th century, fols. 137-41, Liber Sadan, sive Albumasar in Sadan. “Sadan said, I heard Albumasar saying that all life of the living after God is the sun and moon / Here ends the excerpts from the secrets of Albumasar.”

Cat. cod. astrol. Graec. V, i, 142, quotes from a 15th century MS, “Expliciunt excerpta de secretis Albumasaris per Sadan discipulum cuius (eius?) et vocatur liber Albumasaris in Sadan.”

Cat. cod. astrol. Graec. V, i, 142, quotes from a 15th century MS, “The excerpts from the secrets of Albumasar by his disciple Sadan end here, and this work is called the book of Albumasar by Sadan.”

The treatise, according to Steinschneider (1906), 36-8, is also found in Amplon. Quarto 352.

The treatise, according to Steinschneider (1906), 36-8, is also found in Amplon. Quarto 352.

CLM 826, 14th century, written and illuminated in Bohemia, fols. 27-33, Tractatus de nativitatibus, “Dixit Zadan: audivi Albumazar dicentem....”

CLM 826, 14th century, written and illuminated in Bohemia, fols. 27-33, Tractatus de nativitatibus, “Zadan said: I heard Albumazar saying....”

[2618] Steinschneider (1906), 36-38.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Steinschneider (1906), pp. 36-38.

[2619] Cat. cod. astrol. Graec. V, i, 142. In Vienna MS 10583, 15th century, 99 fols., we find a “de revolutionibus nativitatum” by Albumasar “greco in latinum.”

[2619] Cat. cod. astrol. Graec. V, i, 142. In Vienna MS 10583, from the 15th century, 99 pages, we find a “de revolutionibus nativitatum” by Albumasar “translated from Greek to Latin.”

[2620] BN 7316, 15th century, #13, liber imbrium secundos Indos ... authore Jafar; so too BN 7329, 15th century, #6; BN 7316 #16, de mutatione temporum secundum Indos, seems, however, to be another anonymous treatise on the same subject. Perhaps the following, although not so listed in the catalogue, is by Albumasar.

[2620] BN 7316, 15th century, #13, liber imbrium secundos Indos ... authore Jafar; so too BN 7329, 15th century, #6; BN 7316 #16, de mutatione temporum secundum Indos, seems, however, to be another anonymous treatise on the same subject. Perhaps the following, although not so listed in the catalogue, is by Albumasar.

Digby 194, fol. 147v-“Sapientes Indi de pluviis indicant secundum lunam, considerantes ipsius mansiones / quum dominus aspectus aspicit dominum vel est ei conjunctus.”

Digby 194, fol. 147v-“The wise Indians predict rain based on the moon, observing its phases / when the lord looks at the lord or is connected to him.”

[2621] Corpus Christi 233, 13-15th century, fol. 122-“Japhar philosophi et astrologi Aegyptii. Cum multa et varia de nubium congregatione precepta Indorum traxit auctoritas....”

[2621] Corpus Christi 233, 13-15th century, fol. 122-“Japhar, philosopher and astrologer from Egypt. With many and various teachings about the gathering of clouds, he drew from the authority of the Indians....”

Cod. Cantab. Ii-I-13, “Incipit liber Gaphar de temporis mutatione qui dicitur Geazar Babiloniensis. Universa astronomiae iudicia prout Indorum....”

Cod. Cantab. Ii-I-13, “Incipit liber Gaphar de temporis mutatione qui dicitur Geazar Babiloniensis. Universa astronomiae iudicia prout Indorum....”

[2622] The text printed in 1507 and 1540 is Hugo’s translation. So is Bodleian 463 (Bernard 2456) 14th century, fols. 20r-24r, “Incipit liber imbrium editum a Iafar astrologo et a lenio et mercurio (Cilenio Mercurio) correcto.” See also Savile 15 (Bernard 6561), Liber imbrium ab antiquo Indorum astrologo nomine Jafar editus, deinde a Cylenio Mercurio abbreviatus.

[2622] The text printed in 1507 and 1540 is Hugo’s translation. So is Bodleian 463 (Bernard 2456) from the 14th century, fols. 20r-24r, “Incipit liber imbrium editum a Iafar astrologo et a lenio et mercurio (Cilenio Mercurio) correcto.” See also Savile 15 (Bernard 6561), Liber imbrium ab antiquo Indorum astrologo nomine Jafar editus, deinde a Cylenio Mercurio abbreviatus.

[2623] Digby 68, 14th century, fol. 116-“Ysagoga minor Japharis mathematici in astronomiam per Adhelardum Bathoniencem ex Arabico sumpta. Quicunque philosophie scienciam altiorem studio constanti inquireris....”

[2623] Digby 68, 14th century, fol. 116—"Ysagoga minor by Japharis the mathematician in astronomy, translated from Arabic by Adhelard of Bath. Whoever seeks a higher knowledge of philosophy with steady effort...."

Sloane 2030, fols. 83-86v, according to Haskins in EHR (1913), but my notes, which it is now too late to verify, suggest that it is a fragment occupying less than a page at fol. 87.

Sloane 2030, fols. 83-86v, based on Haskins in EHR (1913), but my notes, which I can no longer confirm, indicate that it’s a fragment that takes up less than a page at fol. 87.

[2624] By Carra de Vaux in Journal asiatique, 9e série, I, 386, II, 152, 420, with a French translation; and by Nix, Leipzig, 1900, with a German translation, also printed separately in 1894.

[2624] By Carra de Vaux in Journal asiatique, 9th series, I, 386, II, 152, 420, with a French translation; and by Nix, Leipzig, 1900, with a German translation, also printed separately in 1894.

[2625] Galen, ed. Chart. X, 571; Constantinus Africanus, ed. Basel, 1536, pp. 317-21; Arnald of Villanova, Opera, Lyons, 1532, fol. 295, and also in other editions of his works; H. C. Agrippa, Occult Philosophy, Lyons, 1600, pp. 637-40.

[2625] Galen, ed. Chart. X, 571; Constantinus Africanus, ed. Basel, 1536, pp. 317-21; Arnald of Villanova, Opera, Lyons, 1532, fol. 295, and also in other editions of his works; H. C. Agrippa, Occult Philosophy, Lyons, 1600, pp. 637-40.

[2626] HL XXVIII, 78-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ HL XXVIII, 78-9.

[2627] Idem.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same.

[2628] Additional 22719, 12th century, fol. 200v, “Quesivisti fili karissime de incantatione adjuratione colli suspensione....” In view of this and the citations of the work by Albertus Magnus who wrote before Arnald of Villanova, I cannot agree with Steinschneider (1905), pp. 6 and 12, in denying that Constantinus translated the work and in ascribing the translation exclusively to Arnald.

[2628] Additional 22719, 12th century, fol. 200v, “You asked, dearest son, about the incantation, the adjuration, and the suspension of the neck....” Given this and the references to the work by Albertus Magnus, who wrote before Arnald of Villanova, I cannot agree with Steinschneider (1905), pp. 6 and 12, in denying that Constantinus translated the work and in claiming that the translation was solely done by Arnald.

[2629] Florence II, III, 214, 15th century, fols. 72-4, “Liber Unayn de incantatione. Quesisti fili karissime....”

[2629] Florence II, III, 214, 15th century, fols. 72-4, “Liber Unayn de incantatione. You asked, dear son....”

[2630] De vegetabilibus, V, ii, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Plants, V, ii, 6.

[2631] Mineral. II, ii, 7, and II, iii, 6.

[2631] Mineral. II, ii, 7, and II, iii, 6.

[2632] Mineral. II, iii, 6 (ed. Borgnet, V, 55-6).

[2632] Mineral. II, iii, 6 (ed. Borgnet, V, 55-6).

[2633] I am not certain as to this word: it is sizamelon in one text, sesameleon in another.

[2633] I'm not sure about this word: it's sizamelon in one text, sesameleon in another.

[2634] “Quorum enim actio ex proprietate est non rationibus, unde sic comprehendi non potest. Rationibus enim tantum comprehenduntur que sensibus subministrantur. Aliquando ergo quedam substantie habent proprietatem ratione incomprehensibilem propter sui subtilitatem et sensibus non subministratum propter altitudinem sui magnam.” I doubt if these last three words refer to the influence of the stars.

[2634] “A quorum action comes from ownership, not reasons, and that's why it can't be fully understood. Only things that can be sensed are understood through reasoning. Sometimes, certain substances possess a property that's beyond understanding because of their subtlety and isn't supplied to the senses due to their great height.” I doubt if these last three words refer to the influence of the stars.

[2635] Liber de differentia spiritus et animae, or De differentia inter animam et spiritum. The prologue opens: “Interrogasti me—honoret te Deus!—de differentia....”

[2635] Book on the Difference Between the Spirit and the Soul, or On the Difference Between the Soul and the Spirit. The prologue starts with: “You asked me—may God honor you!—about the difference....”

[2636] Steinschneider (1866), p. 404; (1905), p. 43, “wovon ich das Original in Gotha 1158 erkannte.“

[2636] Steinschneider (1866), p. 404; (1905), p. 43, “of which I recognized the original in Gotha 1158.”

[2637] So in Corpus Christi 114, late 13th century, fol. 229, and at Paris in the following MSS of the 13th or 14th century mostly: BN 6319, #11; 6322, #11; 6323, #6; 6323A; 6325, #17; 6567A; 6569; 8247; 16082; 16083; 16088; 16142; 16490.

[2637] So in Corpus Christi 114, late 13th century, fol. 229, and in Paris in the following manuscripts from the 13th or 14th century mostly: BN 6319, #11; 6322, #11; 6323, #6; 6323A; 6325, #17; 6567A; 6569; 8247; 16082; 16083; 16088; 16142; 16490.

[2638] Specific illustrations of such confusions between the two names in the MSS are: BN 6296, 14th century, #15, “ ... authore filio Lucae Medici Constabolo”; Brussels, Library of Dukes of Burgundy 2784, 12th century, “Constaben”; Sloane 2454, late 13th century, “Liber differentiae inter animam et spiritum quem Constantinus Luce amico suo scriptori Regis edidit.”

[2638] Specific examples of the mix-ups between the two names in the manuscripts are: BN 6296, 14th century, #15, “... authored by the son of Luca Medici, Constable”; Brussels, Library of Dukes of Burgundy 2784, 12th century, “Constaben”; Sloane 2454, late 13th century, “Book of the difference between soul and spirit, which Constantine wrote for his friend Luke, the king's scribe.”

[2639] Constantinus Africanus, Opera, Basel, 1536, pp. 307-17, “Qui voluerit scire differentiam, que est inter duas res .../ ... Hec igitur de differentiis spiritus et anime tibi dicta sufficiant, valeto.” Edited more recently by S. Barach, Innsbruck, 1878, pp. 120-39.

[2639] Constantinus Africanus, Opera, Basel, 1536, pp. 307-17, “Anyone wanting to understand the difference between the two things .../ ... This, then, should be enough for you about the differences between spirit and soul. Take care.” Edited more recently by S. Barach, Innsbruck, 1878, pp. 120-39.

[2640] Theorica, III, 12.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Theorica, Vol. III, 12.

[2641] Corpus Christi 154, late 13th century, pp. 356-74, ascribed to Augustine in both Titulus and Explicit.

[2641] Corpus Christi 154, late 13th century, pp. 356-74, attributed to Augustine in both the Title and the Conclusion.

[2642] S. Marco 179, 14th century, fols. 57-9, 83, Liber Ysaac de differentia spiritus et animae.

[2642] S. Marco 179, 14th century, fols. 57-9, 83, Book of Isaac on the difference between spirit and soul.

[2643] CU Gonville and Caius 109, 13th century, fols. 1-6v, “Avicenna de differencia spiritus et anime.”

[2643] CU Gonville and Caius 109, 13th century, fols. 1-6v, “Avicenna on the difference between spirit and soul.”

[2644] So says Coxe, anent Corpus Christi 114, and Steinschneider (1905), p. 43.

[2644] So says Coxe, regarding Corpus Christi 114, and Steinschneider (1905), p. 43.

[2645] Migne, PL 40, 779-832.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PL 40, 779-832.

[2646] By Trithemius; but earlier so cited by Vincent of Beauvais (PL 40, 779-80). See also Exon. 23, 13th century, fol. 196v.

[2646] By Trithemius; but earlier mentioned by Vincent of Beauvais (PL 40, 779-80). Also refer to Exon. 23, 13th century, fol. 196v.

[2647] Migne, PL 40, 779-80.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Migne, PL 40, 779-80.

[2648] Both passages were excerpted by Vincent of Beauvais, Speculum naturale, XXIX, 41.

[2648] Both passages were taken from Vincent of Beauvais, Speculum naturale, XXIX, 41.

[2649] De Renzi (1852-9) IV, 189; Petrocellus is very brief on the cells of the brain.

[2649] De Renzi (1852-9) IV, 189; Petrocellus offers a very short overview of the brain's cells.

[2650] Singer (1917), pp. 45 and 51, has noted that Hildegard’s description of the brain as divided into three chambers is anteceded by the Liber de humana natura of Constantinus, and contained “in the writings of St. Augustine.”

[2650] Singer (1917), pp. 45 and 51, has pointed out that Hildegard's description of the brain as split into three sections is preceded by the Liber de humana natura by Constantinus and is found “in the writings of St. Augustine.”

[2651] PL 40, 795, cap. 22.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ PL 40, 795, cap. 22.

[2652] De proprietatibus rerum, III, 10 and 16; V, 3.

[2652] On the Properties of Things, III, 10 and 16; V, 3.

[2653] Similarly E. G. Browne (1921), p. 123, writing of Arabian medicine and Avicenna, says, “Corresponding with the five external senses, taste, touch, hearing, smelling, and seeing, are the five internal senses, of which the first and second, the compound sense (or ‘sensus communis’) and the imagination, are located in the anterior ventricle of the brain; the third and fourth, the co-ordinating and emotional faculties, in the mid-brain; and the fifth, the memory, in the hind-brain.” Galen had somewhat similar ideas.

[2653] Similarly, E. G. Browne (1921), p. 123, writing about Arabian medicine and Avicenna, states, “Corresponding to the five external senses—taste, touch, hearing, smelling, and seeing—are the five internal senses. The first two, the common sense and imagination, are found in the front part of the brain; the third and fourth, the coordinating and emotional faculties, are in the mid-brain; and the fifth, memory, is in the back part of the brain.” Galen had somewhat similar views.

[2654] De Genesi ad litteram, VII, 18 (PL 34, 364).

[2654] On the Literal Meaning of Genesis, VII, 18 (PL 34, 364).

[2655] The fullest treatment of him will be found in D. A. Chwolson, Die Ssabier und der Ssabismus, Petrograd, 1856, 2 vols., passim. For a list of his works see Steinschneider. Zeitschrift f. Math., XVIII, 331-38.

[2655] The most comprehensive account of him can be found in D. A. Chwolson, Die Ssabier und der Ssabismus, Petrograd, 1856, 2 vols., passim. For a list of his works, see Steinschneider. Zeitschrift f. Math., XVIII, 331-38.

[2656] There is some difficulty with these dates or their Arabic equivalents, because we are not certain whether the length of his life is given in lunar or solar years: see Chwolson, I, 532-3, 547-8.

[2656] There is some confusion with these dates or their Arabic equivalents because we’re not sure if the length of his life is measured in lunar or solar years: see Chwolson, I, 532-3, 547-8.

[2657] Bridges, I, 394.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Bridges, I, 394.

[2658] Carra de Vaux, Avicenne, Paris, 1900, p. 68.

[2658] Carra de Vaux, Avicenne, Paris, 1900, p. 68.

[2659] Chwolson, II, 406, 422, 431, 440, 453, 610, 703.

[2659] Chwolson, II, 406, 422, 431, 440, 453, 610, 703.

[2660] Ibid., I. 741; II, 7, 258, 386, 677, etc.

[2660] Same source., I. 741; II, 7, 258, 386, 677, etc.

[2661] Chwolson, II, 386-97, 500, 525, 530, 676.

[2661] Chwolson, II, 386-97, 500, 525, 530, 676.

[2662] Ibid., I, 737.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., I, 737.

[2663] Ibid., II, 30, 373.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., 2, 30, 373.

[2664] Ibid., II, 411, 658, 839.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., II, 411, 658, 839.

[2665] Ibid., II, 253.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., II, 253.

[2666] Ibid., I, 738.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., I, 738.

[2667] Ibid., I, 733-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., I, 733-4.

[2668] Ibid., II, 19, 148, 150.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., II, 19, 148, 150.

[2669] Ibid., II, 21, 138-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., II, 21, 138-9.

[2670] Ibid., I, 526; II, 141.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., I, 526; II, 141.

[2671] Quoted by Bishop Gregory Bar-hebraeus in his Syrian Chronicle: Chwolson, I, 177-80.

[2671] Quoted by Bishop Gregory Bar-hebraeus in his Syrian Chronicle: Chwolson, I, 177-80.

[2672] Chwolson, I, 195; II, 623.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chwolson, I, 195; II, 623.

[2673] Ibid., I, 482-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., I, 482-3.

[2674] Again there seems to be uncertainty as to dates, since the Arabic sources name a caliph who was not contemporary with the philosopher in question: Chwolson, I, 548-9.

[2674] Again, there seems to be confusion about the dates, as the Arabic sources mention a caliph who was not alive at the same time as the philosopher in question: Chwolson, I, 548-9.

[2675] Chwolson, I, 485. Chwolson perhaps lays himself open a little to the charge of arguing in a circle, since Thebit’s writings are his main source concerning Sabianism.

[2675] Chwolson, I, 485. Chwolson might be somewhat vulnerable to the criticism of circular reasoning, as Thebit’s writings are his primary source on Sabianism.

[2676] Ibid., I, 553-64, for a list of his translations of, extracts from, and commentaries upon Greek works.

[2676] Ibid., I, 553-64, for a list of his translations, excerpts, and commentaries on Greek works.

[2677] Ibid., I, 484.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., I, 484.

[2678] BN 10260, 16th century, “Incipit liber Karastoni de ponderibus .../ ... editus a Thebit filio Core.” Also in BN 7377B, 14-15th century, #3; 7424, 14th century, #6; Vienna 5203, 15th century, fols. 172-80. For other MSS see Björnbo (1911) 140.

[2678] BN 10260, 16th century, “Beginning of the book of Karastoni on weights .../ ... published by Thebit, son of Core.” Also in BN 7377B, 14-15th century, #3; 7424, 14th century, #6; Vienna 5203, 15th century, fols. 172-80. For other manuscripts, see Björnbo (1911) 140.

[2679] Harleian 13, fol. 118-Thebit de motu octave spere; fol. 120v-Liber Thebith ben Corath de his qui indigent expositione antequam legitur Almagestum; 123-Liber Thebit de ymaginatione spere et circulorum eius diversorum; 124v-Liber Thebith de quantitatibus stellarum et planetarum.

[2679] Harleian 13, fol. 118-Thebit on the motion of the eighth sphere; fol. 120v-Book of Thebit ben Corath on those who need an explanation before reading the Almagest; 123-Book of Thebit on the imagination of the sphere and its various circles; 124v-Book of Thebit on the quantities of the stars and planets.

Also in Harl. 3647, #11-14; Tanner 192, 14th century, fol. 103-; BN 7195, 14th century, #12-15; Magliabech. XI-117, 14th century; CUL 1767 (Ii. III, 3) 1276 A. D., fols. 86-96; and many other MSS.

Also in Harl. 3647, #11-14; Tanner 192, 14th century, fol. 103-; BN 7195, 14th century, #12-15; Magliabech. XI-117, 14th century; CUL 1767 (Ii. III, 3) 1276 A. D., fols. 86-96; and many other MSS.

[2680] Delambre (1819) 73.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Delambre (1819) 73.

[2681] Chwolson, I, 551.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chwolson, I, 551.

[2682] BN 6514, #10, Thebit de alchymia; Amplon. Quarto 312, written before 1323 A.D., fol. 29, Notule Thebith contra alchimiam.

[2682] BN 6514, #10, The Bit of Alchemy; Amplon. Quarto 312, written before 1323 A.D., fol. 29, Notes on Thebit Against Alchemy.

[2683] A work on judgments is ascribed to him in a Munich MS, CLM 588, 14th century, fol. 189-Thebites de iudiciis; followed by, 220-Liber iudicialis Ptolomei, 233-Libellus de iudiciis, and 238-Modus iudicandi. The treatise on fifteen stars, fifteen herbs, and fifteen stones, which as we have seen is usually ascribed to Hermes or Enoch, is attributed to Thebit in at least one MS, BN 7337, page 129-.

[2683] A work on judgments is attributed to him in a Munich manuscript, CLM 588, from the 14th century, fol. 189-Thebites de iudiciis; followed by, 220-Liber iudicialis Ptolomei, 233-Libellus de iudiciis, and 238-Modus iudicandi. The treatise on fifteen stars, fifteen herbs, and fifteen stones, which as we have seen is usually attributed to Hermes or Enoch, is assigned to Thebit in at least one manuscript, BN 7337, page 129-.

[2684] I, 551.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 551.

[2685] Lyons 328, fols. 70-74, Liber prestigiorum Thebidis (Elbidis) secundum Ptolemeum et Hermetem per Adhelardum bathoniensem translatus, opening, “Quicunque geometria atque philosopia peritus astronomiae expers fuerit ociosus est.” In this MS the treatise closes with the words, “ut prestigiorum artifex facultate non decidat.” This seems to be the only MS known where the translation is ascribed to Adelard of Bath. It seems to have once been part of Avranches 235, 12th century, where the same title is listed in the table of contents. Haskins, in EHR (1911) 495, fails to identify the work, calling it “a treatise on horoscopes.” It is to be noted, however, that Albertus Magnus in listing bad necromantic books on images in the Speculum astronomiae (cap. xi, Borgnet, X, 641) gives the same Incipit for a liber praestigiorum by Hermes, “Qui geometriae aut philosophiae peritus, expers astronomiae fuerit ...” Undoubtedly the two were the same.

[2685] Lyons 328, fols. 70-74, Liber prestigiorum Thebidis (Elbidis) according to Ptolemy and Hermes translated by Adelard of Bath, opens with, “Whoever is skilled in geometry and philosophy but lacks knowledge of astronomy is idle.” In this manuscript, the treatise concludes with the words, “so that the master of prestidigitation does not fall short of his ability.” This appears to be the only known manuscript where the translation is attributed to Adelard of Bath. It seems to have once been part of Avranches 235, 12th century, where the same title is listed in the table of contents. Haskins, in EHR (1911) 495, fails to identify the work, calling it “a treatise on horoscopes.” It is worth noting, however, that Albertus Magnus, in listing bad necromantic books on images in the Speculum astronomiae (cap. xi, Borgnet, X, 641) gives the same opening for a liber praestigiorum by Hermes, “Whoever is skilled in geometry or philosophy, but lacks knowledge of astronomy ...” Undoubtedly the two were the same.

[2686] Of John of Seville’s translation the MSS are more numerous. The following will serve as a representative. Royal 12-C-XVIII, 14th century, fols. 10v-12r, “Dixit thebyth bencorat et dixit aristoteles qui philosophiam et geometriam exercet et omnem scientiam legit et ab astronomia vacuus fuerit erit occupatus et vacuus quod dignior geometria et altior philosophia est ymaginum scientia. / Explicit tractatus de imaginibus Thebith Bencorath translatus a Iohanne Hyspalensi atque Limiensi in Limia ex Arabico in Latinum. Sit laus deo maximo.”

[2686] Of John of Seville’s translation, there are more manuscripts available. The following will serve as a representative example. Royal 12-C-XVIII, 14th century, fols. 10v-12r, “Dixit thebyth bencorat et dixit aristoteles qui philosophiam et geometriam exercet et omnem scientiam legit et ab astronomia vacuus fuerit erit occupatus et vacuus quod dignior geometria et altior philosophia est ymaginum scientia. / Explicit tractatus de imaginibus Thebith Bencorath translatus a Iohanne Hyspalensi atque Limiensi in Limia ex Arabico in Latinum. Sit laus deo maximo.”

This is the version cited by Michael Scot in his Liber Introductorius (Bodleian 266, fol. 200) where he gives the Incipit, “Dixerunt enim thebith benchorath et aristoteles quod si quis philosophiam ...,” etc., substantially as above.

This is the version referenced by Michael Scot in his Liber Introductorius (Bodleian 266, fol. 200) where he provides the opening line, “Dixerunt enim thebith benchorath et aristoteles quod si quis philosophiam ...,” etc., essentially as stated above.

But now comes a good joke on Albertus, who has listed among good astronomical books of images (Speculum astronomiae, cap. xi, Borgnet, p. 642) the work of “Thebith eben chorath” opening “Dixit A. qui philosophiam ...” which of course is that just mentioned. Thus he condemns one translation of the same book and approves the other; is he perhaps having some fun at the expense of the opponents of both astrology and necromancy?

But now there's a good joke on Albertus, who has included in his list of quality astronomical books (Speculum astronomiae, cap. xi, Borgnet, p. 642) the work of “Thebith eben chorath,” starting with “Dixit A. qui philosophiam ...” which is, of course, the one just mentioned. So, he criticizes one translation of the same book while endorsing the other; is he maybe having some fun at the expense of the critics of both astrology and necromancy?

It will be noted that it is Aristotle, rather than Hermes or Ptolemy, who is cited at the start in John of Seville’s translation. I therefore am uncertain whether Chwolson has our treatise in mind, when he speaks of Thebit’s commenting upon “eine pseudohermetische Schrift über Talismane u.s.w.” In the printed text of 1559 Aristotle and Ptolemy are cited in the first paragraph, but in the MSS Aristotle is cited twice.

It should be noted that it's Aristotle, not Hermes or Ptolemy, who is referenced at the beginning of John of Seville’s translation. I'm unsure if Chwolson is referring to our work when he discusses Thebit’s commentary on “a pseudo-Hermetic text about talismans, etc.” In the printed text from 1559, Aristotle and Ptolemy are mentioned in the first paragraph, but in the manuscripts, Aristotle is cited twice.

[2687] Some other MSS differ slightly from the foregoing in their opening words, but perhaps not enough to suggest a third translation:

[2687] Some other manuscripts differ a bit from the ones mentioned above in their opening words, but maybe not enough to imply a third translation:

Ashmole 346, 16th century, fols. 113-15v, “Incipit liber de ymaginibus secundum Thebit. In nomine pii et misericordis Dei. Dixit Thebit qui geometrie aut Philosophie expers fuerit.”

Ashmole 346, 16th century, fols. 113-15v, “Beginning of the book on images according to Thebit. In the name of the kind and merciful God. Thebit said, whoever is inexperienced in geometry or philosophy.”

Bodleian 463 (Bernard 2456), written in Spain, 14th century, fols. 75r-75v, “Dixit thebit bencorat Ar. qui legit phylosophiam et geumetriam et omnem scientiam et alienus fuerit ab astronomia erit impeditus vel occupatus.”

Bodleian 463 (Bernard 2456), written in Spain, 14th century, fols. 75r-75v, "Said the blessed Thebit: 'Whoever reads philosophy and geometry and all knowledge but is not familiar with astronomy will be hindered or distracted.'"

The following MSS ascribe the translation to John of Spain and have the usual opening words, “Dixit Thebit ben Corat, Dixit Aristoteles, qui philosophiam, etc.”

The following manuscripts attribute the translation to John of Spain and have the usual opening words, “Dixit Thebit ben Corat, Dixit Aristoteles, qui philosophiam, etc.”

Digby 194, 15th century, fol. 145v-.

Digby 194, 15th century, fol. 145v-.

S. Marco XI-102, 14th century, fols. 150-53.

S. Marco XI-102, 14th century, folios 150-53.

Berlin 963, 15th century, fol. 140-“Dixit thebit ben corach Cum volueris operari de ymaginibus,” but then at fol. 199, with the usual Incipit.

Berlin 963, 15th century, fol. 140-“Said the bit ben corach When you want to work on images,” but then at fol. 199, with the usual beginning.

Harleian 80 has the first part missing but ends, fol. 76r, like John’s translation.

Harleian 80 is missing the first part but ends, fol. 76r, like John's translation.

Still other MSS are:

Other MSS include:

Harleian 3647, 13th century.

Harleian 3647, 13th century.

Sloane 3846, fols. 86v-93; 3847; and 3883, fols. 87-93: all three 17th century.

Sloane 3846, fols. 86v-93; 3847; and 3883, fols. 87-93: all three from the 17th century.

Amplon. Quarto 174, 14th century, fols. 120-1.

Amplon. Quarto 174, 14th century, fols. 120-1.

BN 7282, 15th century, #4, interprete Joanne Hispalensi.

BN 7282, 15th century, #4, interpret by Joanne Hispalensi.

Berlin 964, 15th century, fols. 213-5.

Berlin 964, 15th century, fols. 213-5.

Vienna 2378, 14th century, fols. 41-63.

Vienna 2378, 14th century, folios 41-63.

CLM 27, 14-15th century, fols. 71-77; 59, 15th century, fols. 239-43.

CLM 27, 14th-15th century, fols. 71-77; 59, 15th century, fols. 239-43.

Florence II-iii-214, 15th century, fols. 1-4, “Incipit liber Thebit Benchorac de scientia omigarum et imaginum. (D) ixit Aristotiles qui.”

Florence II-iii-214, 15th century, fols. 1-4, “Incipit liber Thebit Benchorac de scientia omigarum et imaginum. (D) Aristoteles said who.”

[2688] De tribus imaginibus magicis, Frankfurt, 1559.

[2688] On Three Magical Images, Frankfurt, 1559.

[2689] Mineral. II, iii, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mineral. 2, 3, 3.

[2690] Magliabech. XX-20, fol. 12r; Sloane 1305, fol. 19r.

[2690] Magliabech. XX-20, fol. 12r; Sloane 1305, fol. 19r.

[2691] Conciliator, Diff. X., fol. 16GH, in ed. Venice, 1526.

[2691] Conciliator, Diff. X., fol. 16GH, in ed. Venice, 1526.

[2692] Commentary on the Sphere, cap. 3.

[2692] Commentary on the Sphere, cap. 3.

[2693] Also given as Muhammad ibn Zakariya (Abu Bakr) ar-Razi and Abu Bekr Mohammed ben Zachariah.

[2693] Also known as Muhammad ibn Zakariya (Abu Bakr) ar-Razi and Abu Bekr Mohammed ben Zachariah.

[2694] Withington in his Medical History, 1894, gives the date as 932, perhaps by a misprint.

[2694] Withington in his Medical History, 1894, lists the date as 932, possibly due to a typo.

[2695] Ibn Abi Usaibi’a (1203-1269, himself a physician and son of an oculist) “Sources of Information concerning Classes of Physicians,” compiled at Damascus, 1245-1246, ed. by Müller, Cairo, 1882; and Ibn Khallikan (1211-1282), “Obituaries of Men of Note,” written between 1256 and 1274.

[2695] Ibn Abi Usaibi’a (1203-1269, a physician and son of an eye doctor) “Sources of Information concerning Classes of Physicians,” compiled in Damascus, 1245-1246, ed. by Müller, Cairo, 1882; and Ibn Khallikan (1211-1282), “Obituaries of Notable People,” written between 1256 and 1274.

For these titles and most of the general account of the life and works of Rasis which follows I am indebted to G. S. A. Ranking’s “The Life and Works of Rhazes,” pp. 237-68, in Transactions of the Seventeenth International Congress of Medicine, Section XXIII, London, 1913.

For these titles and most of the general overview of Rasis's life and works that follows, I owe thanks to G. S. A. Ranking’s “The Life and Works of Rhazes,” pp. 237-68, in Transactions of the Seventeenth International Congress of Medicine, Section XXIII, London, 1913.

[2696] The list is reproduced by Ranking (1913) in Arabic and Latin, largely on the basis of a MS at the University of Glasgow, which contains a Latin translation by a Greek priest, who died in 1729, of the Arabic work of Usaibi’a, or part of it, mentioned in the previous note: Hunterian Library, MS 44, fols. 1-19v.

[2696] The list is repeated by Ranking (1913) in Arabic and Latin, mainly based on a manuscript at the University of Glasgow, which includes a Latin translation by a Greek priest who passed away in 1729, of the Arabic work by Usaibi’a, or part of it, noted in the previous note: Hunterian Library, MS 44, fols. 1-19v.

[2697] I have examined both these editions at the British Museum; Withington does not mention them in his History of Medicine, but cites editions of the Continens, Venice, 1542, and Opera Parva, 1510, and a modern edition (1858) by the Sydenham Society of On the Small Pox and Measles. The pages are not numbered in the edition of 1481, so that I shall not be able to give exact references to them.

[2697] I have looked at both of these editions at the British Museum; Withington doesn't mention them in his History of Medicine, but he references editions of the Continens, Venice, 1542, and Opera Parva, 1510, along with a modern edition (1858) by the Sydenham Society of On the Small Pox and Measles. The pages aren't numbered in the 1481 edition, so I won’t be able to provide exact references for them.

[2698] This was sometimes reproduced separately: see Wolfenbüttel 2885, 15th century, fol. 1, Phisonomia Rasis, fol. 2, Phisonomia Aristetelis, Rasis et Philomenis, summorum magistrorum in philosophia.

[2698] This was sometimes reproduced separately: see Wolfenbüttel 2885, 15th century, fol. 1, Phisonomia Rasis, fol. 2, Phisonomia Aristetelis, Rasis et Philomenis, summorum magistrorum in philosophia.

[2699] It occupies but a little over three pages in the 1481 edition. Since in the middle of the treatise we read “Magister rasis fecit cauterizari quidem artheticum ...,” etc., it is perhaps by a disciple rather than Rasis himself.

[2699] It takes up just a little over three pages in the 1481 edition. Since in the middle of the treatise we read “Magister rasis fecit cauterizari quidem artheticum ...,” etc., it may be from a disciple rather than Rasis himself.

[2700] 79, Dissertatio de causis quae plerorumque hominum animos a praestantissimis ad viliores quosque medicos solent deflectere.

[2700] 79, Thesis on the reasons that often lead people's minds away from the best doctors to the more ordinary ones.

124, Liber, Quod medicus acutus non sit ille qui possit omnes curare morbos quoniam hoc non est in hominum potestate ...,

124, The book that a skilled doctor is not the one who can cure all diseases since this is not within human power ...,

125, Epistola, Quod artifex omnibus numeris absolutus in quacumque arte non existat nedum in medicina speciatim: et de causa cur imperiti medici, vulgus, et etiam mulieres in civitatibus, foeliciores sint in sanandis quibusdam morbis quam viri doctissimi et de excusatione medici hoc propter.

125, Letter, That an artist who is perfect in all respects in any art does not exist, especially in medicine: and about the reason why unskilled doctors, the common people, and even women in communities are often more successful in treating certain illnesses than highly learned men, and about the excuse of the doctor for this.

There appears to be a German translation by Steinschneider of this work by Rasis on the success of quacks and charlatans in Virchow’s Archiv f. Pathologische Anatomie, XXXVI, 570-86.

There seems to be a German translation by Steinschneider of this work by Rasis on the success of quacks and charlatans in Virchow’s Archiv f. Pathologische Anatomie, XXXVI, 570-86.

[2701] Ranking (1913), #180, 15, 138, 163.

[2701] Ranking (1913), #180, 15, 138, 163.

[2702] Ibid., #137; also 145, Supplementum libris Plutarchi.

[2702] Same source., #137; also 145, Plutarch's Supplement.

[2703] Ibid. #126, Liber, De probatis et experientia compertis in arte medica; per modum syntagmatis est digestus. #205, Liber, Quod in morbis qui determinari atque explicari non possunt oporteat ut medicus sit assiduus apud aegrotantem et debeat uti experimentis ad illos cognoscendos. Et de medici fluctatione.

[2703] Same source. #126, Book, On Proven and Experienced Practices in the Medical Art; organized in the form of a synthesis. #205, Book, On the Diseases that Cannot Be Determined or Explained, It is Necessary for the Physician to Be Attentive to the Patient and to Use Experiments to Understand Them. And Regarding the Physician's Uncertainty.

[2704] Ibid. #25, 26, 32-35, 38, 40. I should guess that 201, Arcanum arcanorum de sapientia, was the same as 35, Arcanum arcanorum.

[2704] Ibid. #25, 26, 32-35, 38, 40. I would guess that 201, Arcanum arcanorum de sapientia, was the same as 35, Arcanum arcanorum.

[2705] Ibid. #40, Responsio ad philosophum el-Kendi eo quod artem al-Chymi in impossibili posuerit.

[2705] Ibid. #40, Response to the Philosopher al-Kindi regarding the impossibility of alchemy.

[2706] Berthelot (1893), I, 68 and 286-7. On the alchemy of Rasis see further in this same volume the chapter, L’Alchimie de Rasis et du Pseudo-Aristote.

[2706] Berthelot (1893), I, 68 and 286-7. For more on the alchemy of Rasis, check out the chapter L’Alchimie de Rasis et du Pseudo-Aristote in this same volume.

[2707] BN 6514 and 7156.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ BN 6514 and 7156.

[2708] Riccardian 119, fol. 35v, “Incipit liber luminis luminum translatus a magistro michahele scotto philosopho.” Printed by J. Wood Brown (1897), p. 240 et seq.

[2708] Riccardian 119, fol. 35v, “Beginning of the book of the light of lights translated by Master Michael Scott the philosopher.” Printed by J. Wood Brown (1897), p. 240 and following.

[2709] Lippmann (1919), p. 400, citing the Biographies of Albaihaqi (1105-1169).

[2709] Lippmann (1919), p. 400, referencing the Biographies of Albaihaqi (1105-1169).

[2710] Ranking, #8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ranking, #8.

[2711] Ibid. #107.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source. #107.

[2712] Ranking, #134. Other titles in mathematics and astronomy are: 73, Liber de sphaeris et mensuris compendiosis; 128, De septem planetis et de sapientia; 155, De quadrato in mathesi epistola; also 109 and 110.

[2712] Ranking, #134. Other titles in mathematics and astronomy are: 73, Book on Spheres and Compact Measurements; 128, On the Seven Planets and Wisdom; 155, Letter on the Square in Mathematics; also 109 and 110.

[2713] Ibid. #13.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source. #13.

[2714] Ibid. #51.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source. #51.

[2715] Ibid. #158, De necessitate precationis.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid. #158, De necessitate precationis.

[2716] Printed as the Lapidary of Aristotle, Merseburg, 1473, p. 2.

[2716] Printed as the Lapidary of Aristotle, Merseburg, 1473, p. 2.

[2717] See De la Ville de Mirmont, L’Astrologie chez les Gallo-Romains, Bordeaux, 1904; also published in Revue des Études anciennes, 1902, p. 115-; 1903, p. 255-; 1906, p. 128-.

[2717] See De la Ville de Mirmont, Astrology among the Gallo-Romans, Bordeaux, 1904; also published in Review of Ancient Studies, 1902, p. 115-; 1903, p. 255-; 1906, p. 128-.

[2718] Goujet (1737), p. 50; cited by C. Jourdain (1838), pp. 28-9.

[2718] Goujet (1737), p. 50; cited by C. Jourdain (1838), pp. 28-9.

[2719] HL IV, 274-5; V, 182-3; VI, 9-10.

[2719] HL IV, 274-5; V, 182-3; VI, 9-10.

[2720] Palat. Lat. 487, fol. 40, opening, “Nouo et insolito siderum ortu infausta quaedam uel tristitia potius quam laeta uel prospera miseris uentura significari mortalibus pene omnia ueterum aestimauit auctoritas.”

[2720] Palat. Lat. 487, fol. 40, opening, “An unusual and new rise of the stars signifies unfortunate or sad events, rather than happy or prosperous ones, foretelling almost everything when it comes to human misery, according to the judgments of the ancients.”

[2721] HL VII, 137.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ HL VII, 137.

[2722] Ernest Wickersheimer, Figures médico-astrologiques des neuvième, dixième et onzième siècles, in Transactions of the Seventeenth International Congress of Medicine, Section XXIII, History of Medicine, London, 1913, p. 313 et seq. I have not seen A. Fischer Aberglaube unter den Angelsachsen, Meiningen, 1891, or M. Förster, Die Kleinlitteratur des Aberglaubens im Altenglischen, in Archiv. f. d. Studium d. Neuer. Sprachen, vol. 110, pp. 346-58.

[2722] Ernest Wickersheimer, Medical-Astrological Figures from the Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Centuries, in Transactions of the Seventeenth International Congress of Medicine, Section XXIII, History of Medicine, London, 1913, p. 313 et seq. I have not seen A. Fischer Superstition among the Anglo-Saxons, Meiningen, 1891, or M. Förster, The Minor Literature of Superstition in Old English, in Archiv. f. d. Studium d. Neuer. Sprachen, vol. 110, pp. 346-58.

[2723] Charles Singer, Studies in the History and Method of Science, Oxford, 1917, Plate XV, opposite p. 40, reproduces this illumination. The MS, BN 7028, seems to have once belonged to the abbey of St. Hilary at Poitiers.

[2723] Charles Singer, Studies in the History and Method of Science, Oxford, 1917, Plate XV, opposite p. 40, reproduces this illumination. The MS, BN 7028, seems to have once belonged to the abbey of St. Hilary at Poitiers.

[2724] Besides those in France mentioned by Wickersheimer may be noted two of the tenth century at Munich: CLM 18629, fol. 105, “Tabula cosmica cum nominibus ventorum, germanicorum quoque”; CLM 18764, fols. 79-80, “Schema de genitura mundi.” Also Vatic. Lat. 645, 9th century, fol. 66, Ventorum imagines et in circulo Adam in medio ferarum; fol. 66v, Planetarum figura. This same MS contains a conjuration written in a later hand of the eleventh or twelfth century: fol. 4v, “In nomine patris.... Tres angeli ambulaverunt in monte....”

[2724] In addition to those in France mentioned by Wickersheimer, there are two from the tenth century in Munich: CLM 18629, fol. 105, “Cosmic Table with the Names of the Winds, including German Winds”; CLM 18764, fols. 79-80, “Diagram of the Creation of the World.” Also, Vatic. Lat. 645, from the 9th century, fol. 66, Images of the Winds and in the Circle, Adam in the Midst of Beasts; fol. 66v, Figure of the Planets. This same manuscript also contains a conjuration written in a later hand from the eleventh or twelfth century: fol. 4v, “In the name of the Father.... Three angels walked on the mountain....”

For such an astrological diagram in an Arabic work of the tenth century see E. G. Browne (1921), 117-8.

For an astrological chart in an Arabic work from the tenth century, see E. G. Browne (1921), 117-8.

[2725] Amiens, fonds Lescalopier, 2, 11th century, fols. 1-12.

[2725] Amiens, fonds Lescalopier, 2, 11th century, fols. 1-12.

[2726] For instance, for February, “Bibe agrimoniam et apii semen; oculos turbulentos sanare debes”: for March, “Merum dulce primum bibe, assum balneum usita, sanguinem non minuas, ruta et levestico utere.”

[2726] For example, for February, “Drink the juice of agrimony and celery seed; you should heal the troubled eyes”: for March, “First drink sweet wine, take a warm bath, don’t reduce your blood, use rue and lovage.”

[2727] Ibid., fols. 11 and 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., pp. 11 and 19.

[2728] Pembroke 278, early 14th century, fol. 25, “Compotus est sciencia considerans tempora.”

[2728] Pembroke 278, early 14th century, fol. 25, “Accounting is the science that considers time.”

[2729] BN nouv. acq. 1616, 14 leaves.

[2729] BN new acquisition 1616, 14 pages.

[2730] BN 7299A.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ BN 7299A.

[2731] BN 7299A, fols. 35v, 37v, 56r.

[2731] BN 7299A, fols. 35v, 37v, 56r.

[2732] Notker is especially famed for his translations with learned commentaries from Latin into German, of which five are extant, namely: The Consolation of Philosophy of Boethius, The Marriage of Mercury and Philology of Martianus Capella, the Psalter, and Aristotle, De categoriis and De interpretatione: see Piper, Die Schriften Notkers, Freiburg, 1882-1883, vols. I-III.

[2732] Notker is particularly well-known for his translations with insightful commentaries from Latin into German, of which five still exist: The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius, The Marriage of Mercury and Philology by Martianus Capella, the Psalter, and Aristotle's De categoriis and De interpretatione: see Piper, Die Schriften Notkers, Freiburg, 1882-1883, vols. I-III.

[2733] BN nouv. acq. 229, fols. 10v-14v. Notker erkenhardo discipulo de IIII questionibus compoti. It seems not to have been printed.

[2733] BN nouv. acq. 229, fols. 10v-14v. Notker to his student Erkenhard on the four questions of computation. It doesn’t appear to have been printed.

[2734] Cotton Tiberius A, III, a MS written in various hands before the Norman conquest, partly in Latin and partly in Anglo-Saxon, and containing among other things the Colloquy of Aelfric. Our item occurs at fol. 34r in Latin with an Anglo-Saxon interlinear version, and at fol. 39v in Anglo-Saxon only.

[2734] Cotton Tiberius A, III, a manuscript written in different handwriting styles before the Norman conquest, partly in Latin and partly in Anglo-Saxon. It includes various elements, such as the Colloquy of Aelfric. Our entry appears on fol. 34r in Latin with an Anglo-Saxon translation interlinear, and on fol. 39v in Anglo-Saxon only.

Cotton Titus D, XXVI, 10th century, fols. 10v-11v, gives a slightly different version for some days of the week.

Cotton Titus D, XXVI, 10th century, fols. 10v-11v, provides a slightly different version for some days of the week.

[2735] Harleian 3017, 10th century, fols. 63r-64v, CLM 6382, 11th century, fol. 42, Supputatio Esdrae; Incipit, “Kal. Jan. si fuerint dominico die hiems bona erit.”

[2735] Harleian 3017, 10th century, fols. 63r-64v, CLM 6382, 11th century, fol. 42, Supputatio Esdrae; Starts with, “Jan. 1st, if it falls on a Sunday, the winter will be good.”

Vatican, Palat. Lat. 235, 10-11th century, fol. 39, “Subputatio quam subputavit Esdras in templo Hierusalem,” opening, “Si in prima feria fuerint kl. Ianuarii hiemps bona erit.”

Vatican, Palat. Lat. 235, 10-11th century, fol. 39, “Calculation that Ezra made in the temple of Jerusalem,” opening, “If it is the first day of January, the winter will be good.”

Also found in Egerton 821, fol. 1r, which is of the twelfth century and adds a more elaborate method of divination according to what planet rules the first hour of the first night of January and which of its 28 mansions the moon is in.

Also found in Egerton 821, fol. 1r, which is from the twelfth century and adds a more detailed method of divination based on which planet rules the first hour of the first night of January and which of its 28 mansions the moon is in.

CLM 9921, 12th century, fol. 1, is a calendar with verses beginning, “Jani prima dies et septima fine timetur.”

CLM 9921, 12th century, fol. 1, is a calendar with verses starting, “January's first day and the seventh is feared at the end.”

[2736] Sloane 475, this portion perhaps 11th century, fol. 217r. Other MSS of later date than the period we are now considering are: Harleian 2258, fol. 191, “prognostica a die nativitatis Domini a luna et somniis petita,” predictions from Christmas, the moon, and dreams. CUL 1338, 15th century, fol. 65v, Prognostications derived from the day on which Christmas falls (in Latin); fol. 74v, Prognostications drawn from the day of the week on which the year commences. CU Trinity 1109, 14th century, fol. 148, “Prognostica anni sequentis ex die natalium Domini.”

[2736] Sloane 475, this section possibly from the 11th century, fol. 217r. Other manuscripts from a later date than the period we're currently discussing include: Harleian 2258, fol. 191, “predictions from the day of the Lord's birth based on the moon and dreams”; CUL 1338, 15th century, fol. 65v, Predictions based on the day Christmas falls (in Latin); fol. 74v, Predictions based on the day of the week on which the year begins. CU Trinity 1109, 14th century, fol. 148, “Predictions for the following year based on the day of the Lord's birth.”

[2737] BN nouv. acq. 1616, 9th century, fol. 12v. Similar later MSS are:

[2737] BN nouv. acq. 1616, 9th century, fol. 12v. Similar later MSS are:

Digby 86, 13th century, fols. 32-4, Prognosticatio ex vento in nocte Natalis Domini, and fols. 40v-41r, “Les singnes del jour de Nouel,” predictions in French according to the day of the week on which Christmas falls.

Digby 86, 13th century, fols. 32-4, Weather Forecast from the Wind on Christmas Eve, and fols. 40v-41r, “The Signs of Christmas Day,” predictions in French based on the day of the week that Christmas occurs.

Digby 88, 15th century, fol. 77, “Howe all ye yere ys rewlyde by the day that Christemas day fallythe on,” and fol. 40r, “Prognostication from the sight of the sun on Christmas and the ten days following” (Prognosticatio ex visione solis in die Natalis Domini et in decem diebus subsequentibus), and fol. 75, a poem of prognostications for Christmas day. This same MS contains a large number of other brief anonymous treatises in the fields of astrology and divination.

Digby 88, 15th century, fol. 77, “How the entire year is affected by the day that Christmas falls on,” and fol. 40r, “Forecast based on the sight of the sun on Christmas and the ten days that follow” (Forecast from the sight of the sun on the day of the Nativity and in the following ten days), and fol. 75, a poem about forecasts for Christmas day. This same manuscript contains many other short anonymous writings in the areas of astrology and divination.

[2738] Titus D, XXVI, fol. 9v. Tiberius A, III, fols. 38r and 35r. Cockayne, Leechdoms etc., III, 150-295, in RS vol. 35, published this and a number of other extracts from Tiberius A, III, and other early English MSS.

[2738] Titus D, XXVI, fol. 9v. Tiberius A, III, fols. 38r and 35r. Cockayne, Leechdoms etc., III, 150-295, in RS vol. 35, published this and several other excerpts from Tiberius A, III, and other early English manuscripts.

Vienna 2245, 12th century, fols. 59r-69v are devoted to various prognostications, beginning with, “Three days are to be observed above all others,” and ending with, “Thunder at dawn signifies the birth of a king.” A dream book by Daniel follows at fols. 69v-75r.

Vienna 2245, 12th century, fols. 59r-69v are dedicated to different predictions, starting with, “Three days should be noted above all others,” and concluding with, “Thunder at dawn indicates the birth of a king.” A dream book by Daniel comes next at fols. 69v-75r.

[2739] Vatican Palat. Lat. 235, fol. 40, “In mense Ianuario si tonitru fuerit.” In Egerton 821, 12th century, the significance of thunder is given according to the twelve signs of the zodiac, and we are told of what the Egyptians write, and of famine in Babylon. In CUL 1687, 13-14th century, fols. 68v-69r, Latin verses containing prognostications concerning thunder are followed by “a list of the number of quarters of flour, beer, etc., used in the year at the monastery” and by “a note on the symbolism of the pastoral staff.”

[2739] Vatican Palat. Lat. 235, fol. 40, “In January, if there is thunder.” In Egerton 821, 12th century, the meaning of thunder is explained based on the twelve zodiac signs, and we learn what the Egyptians write, as well as about famine in Babylon. In CUL 1687, 13-14th century, fols. 68v-69r, Latin verses that contain predictions about thunder are followed by “a list of the amounts of flour, beer, etc., used during the year at the monastery” and by “a note on the symbolism of the pastoral staff.”

[2740] Combined with the method by the day of the week in BN 7299A, 12th century, fol. 37v.

[2740] Paired with the method for the day of the week in BN 7299A, 12th century, fol. 37v.

[2741] Tiberius A, III, fol. 63r; Vatican Palat. Lat. 235, fol. 40.

[2741] Tiberius A, III, fol. 63r; Vatican Palat. Lat. 235, fol. 40.

[2742] Tiberius A, III, fol. 38v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Tiberius A, III, p. 38v.

[2743] Sloane 475, fol. 135v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sloane 475, page 135v.

[2744] Sloane 475, fol. 133r. The method is almost identical with that of the spheres of life and death, of which we shall speak presently. In CU Trinity 987, The Canterbury Psalter, about 1150 A. D., the value assigned Dies Solis is 24.

[2744] Sloane 475, fol. 133r. The method is nearly the same as that of the spheres of life and death, which we will discuss shortly. In CU Trinity 987, The Canterbury Psalter, around 1150 A.D., the value given to Dies Solis is 24.

[2745] Vatic. Palat. Lat. 235, fol. 40, “De lunae observatione: Luna I omnibus rebus agendis utilis.”

[2745] Vatic. Palat. Lat. 235, fol. 40, “On observing the moon: The Moon I is useful for all matters at hand.”

Tiberius A, III, fol. 63r, where, however, such parts of the day as morning and evening are further distinguished.

Tiberius A, III, fol. 63r, where, however, such parts of the day as morning and evening are further distinguished.

Vatic. Palat. Lat. 485, 9th century, fol. 15v, “Ad sanguinem minuendum,” merely states which days of the moon are favorable or unfavorable for blood-letting.

Vatic. Palat. Lat. 485, 9th century, fol. 15v, “Ad sanguinem minuendum,” simply indicates which days of the moon are good or bad for bloodletting.

St. John’s 17, 1110 A. D., fol. 4, Luna quibus diebus bona est et quibus non; fol. 154v, a table of lucky and unlucky numbers.

St. John’s 17, 1110 A. D., fol. 4, Luna on which days it’s good and on which it’s not; fol. 154v, a table of lucky and unlucky numbers.

[2746] Harleian 3017, fol. 58v; the Incipit states that it is by the same author as the preceding Sphere of Pythagoras and Apuleius.

[2746] Harleian 3017, fol. 58v; the Incipit says that it’s by the same author as the earlier Sphere of Pythagoras and Apuleius.

Titus D, XXVI, fol. 8.

Titus D, 26, page 8.

Cotton Caligula A, XV, 10th century, fol. 121v, Latin and Anglo-Saxon.

Cotton Caligula A, XV, 10th century, fol. 121v, Latin and Anglo-Saxon.

Egerton 821, fol. 32r, is a twelfth century instance.

Egerton 821, fol. 32r, is a twelfth-century example.

The method seems combined or confused with the Egyptian days in Vatic. Palat. Lat. 485, 9th century, fol. 13v, “Dies aegyptiaci. Signa in quibus aegrotus an periclitare aut evadere non potest,” but opening, “Luna I. qui ceciderit in infirmitatem difficile euadit.”

The method appears to be mixed up with the Egyptian days in Vatic. Palat. Lat. 485, 9th century, fol. 13v, “Dies aegyptiaci. Signa in quibus aegrotus an periclitare aut evadere non potest,” but starts with, “Luna I. qui ceciderit in infirmitatem difficile euadit.”

[2747] Harleian 3017, fol. 58v, “Incipit lunarium sancti danihel de nativitate infantium. Luna I qui fuerit natus vitalis erit; Luna II, mediocris erit ... Luna IIII, tractator regum erit ... Luna XII, religiosus erit ... Luna XXX, negotias multas tractabit.”

[2747] Harleian 3017, fol. 58v, “Beginning of the lunar cycle of Saint Daniel regarding the births of infants. On the 1st Moon, the child born will be vital; on the 2nd Moon, the child will be of moderate character ... On the 4th Moon, the child will be a ruler ... On the 12th Moon, the child will be religious ... On the 30th Moon, the child will engage in many business matters.”

Tiberius A, III, fols. 63r and 34v.

Tiberius A, III, fols. 63r and 34v.

Titus D, XXVI, fols. 7v and 6v.

Titus D, XXVI, fols. 7v and 6v.

[2748] Tiberius A, III, fol. 33v. Titus D, XXVI, fol. 9r. CLM 6382, 11th century, fol. 42, De somni ueris uel mendosis quidam incipiunt in aetatibus lunae exploratis.

[2748] Tiberius A, III, fol. 33v. Titus D, XXVI, fol. 9r. CLM 6382, 11th century, fol. 42, De somni ueris uel mendosis quidam incipiunt in aetatibus lunae exploratis.

[2749] Tiberius A, III, fols. 30v-33v, “Finiunt somnia danielis prophete.”

[2749] Tiberius A, III, fols. 30v-33v, “Daniel the prophet's dreams come to an end.”

Sloane 475, fols. 211-6, is almost identical, but I believe does not mention Daniel as its author.

Sloane 475, fols. 211-6, is nearly identical, but I don’t think it mentions Daniel as the author.

Vatic. Palat. Lat. 235, fol. 39v.

Vatican Palace Latin 235, page 39v.

BN nouv. acq. 1616, 9th century, is roughly similar but names no author and does not distinguish the fates of boys and girls. It usually states whether slaves who run away and thieves who steal on the day in question will be caught or escape. It opens and closes thus: “Luna prima qui incenditur in ipsa sanabitur et bona et in omnibus dare et accipere et nubere et navigare in mare et vendere et emere et omnis quicumque fugerit in ipsa aut servus aut liber non poterit sed capitur aut qui incendit incendio sanabitur (presumably an allusion to the medical practice of cauterization) et qui natus fuerit vitalis erit .../ ... Luna XXX bona est ambulare in piscatione et qui fugit post multos annos revertitur in loco suo et qui natus fuerit dives erit et honoratissimus erit et qui incadit aut manducet aut non vivet periculo mortis habebit.”

BN nouv. acq. 1616, 9th century, is roughly similar but doesn’t name an author and doesn’t differentiate the fates of boys and girls. It usually mentions whether runaway slaves and thieves will be caught or escape on that day. It begins and ends like this: “The first moon that ignites will heal itself and be good for giving and receiving, marrying, sailing the sea, and buying and selling. Anyone who flees, whether slave or free, will not be able to escape but will be captured. The one who ignites fire will be healed (presumably a reference to the medical practice of cauterization), and whoever is born will have vitality .../ ... The thirtieth moon is good for fishing, and anyone who runs away will return after many years to their place, and whoever is born will be wealthy and very respected, and whoever falls must either eat or not survive and will face the danger of death.”

Titus D, XXVII, fols. 22-25r, “judicia de diebus quibusdam cuiusque mensis”; fols. 27-9, “argumentum lunare, quando et qualiter observentur tempora ad res agendas.”

Titus D, XXVII, fols. 22-25r, “judgments on certain days of each month”; fols. 27-9, “lunar argument, when and how to observe times for things to be done.”

Of the twelfth century, Vienna 2532, fols. 55-9, “Luna I. Hec dies omnibus egrotantibus utilis est .../ ... Puer natus negotia multa sectabit.”

Of the twelfth century, Vienna 2532, fols. 55-9, “Luna I. This day is useful for everyone who is unwell .../ ... A boy born will pursue many endeavors.”

[2750] Sloane 2461, end of 13th century, fols. 62-4. No Biblical character is mentioned for the fifth and sixth days, but we are told that on the seventh day of the moon Abel was slain by Cain.

[2750] Sloane 2461, end of 13th century, fols. 62-4. No Biblical character is mentioned for the fifth and sixth days, but we are told that on the seventh day of the moon, Abel was killed by Cain.

BN 3660A, 16th century, fols. 53r-57r, ascribes the birth of Nebuchadnezzar to the fifth day, leaves the sixth blank, has Abel slain on the seventh, Methusaleh born on the eighth, Lamech on the ninth, and so on.

BN 3660A, 16th century, fols. 53r-57r, states that Nebuchadnezzar was born on the fifth day, leaves the sixth day empty, records Abel's death on the seventh, Methusaleh's birth on the eighth, Lamech on the ninth, and continues in that fashion.

Egerton 821, 12th century, fol. 12r, “Natus est Samuel propheta....”

Egerton 821, 12th century, fol. 12r, “Samuel the prophet was born....”

Digby 88, 15th century, fol. 62r, has English verses beginning:

Digby 88, 15th century, fol. 62r, has English verses beginning:

“God made Adam the fyrst day of the moone,
And the second day Eve good dedis to doone.”

A similar poem occurs at fol. 64 of the same MS and in Ashmole 189, fol. 213v.

A similar poem can be found on fol. 64 of the same manuscript and in Ashmole 189, fol. 213v.

[2751] Ashmole 361, mid 14th century, fols. 156v-158v, “Iste sunt lunaciones quas Adam primus homo disposuit secundum veram experientiam quam etiam suis filiis tradidit et quam maxime Abel et ceteris de posteritate ad quos etiam concordavit Daniel propheta ...”; fol. 159, “Modo agitur de numero lune ad videndum que sit bona vel que mala et usum istarum lunacionum invenerunt Adam et Daniel propheta.”

[2751] Ashmole 361, mid 14th century, fols. 156v-158v, “These are the lunar phases that Adam, the first man, arranged according to true experience, which he also passed on to his sons, especially Abel and the others of his lineage, with whom the prophet Daniel also agreed ...”; fol. 159, “Now we discuss the number of the moon to determine which are good or which are bad, and Adam and the prophet Daniel discovered the use of these lunar phases.”

[2752] Canon. Misc. 517, fol. 35r, “Incipit scientia edita ab edri philosopho astrologo et medico.”

[2752] Canon. Misc. 517, fol. 35r, “Here begins the knowledge published by the philosopher, astrologer, and doctor.”

[2753] BN 3660A, fols. 53r-57r. In the catalogue of Ashburnham MSS at Florence the name of Giovannino di Graziano is connected with a moon-book in Ashburnham 130, 13-15th century, fols. 25-6, “Luna prima Adam natus fuit....” But perhaps this name should go only with some prognostications, exorcisms, and recipes which occur at the close of the predictions for the thirty days of the moon.

[2753] BN 3660A, fols. 53r-57r. In the catalog of Ashburnham MSS at Florence, the name Giovannino di Graziano is linked to a moon book in Ashburnham 130, from the 13th to 15th century, fols. 25-6, “Luna prima Adam natus fuit....” However, this name might only relate to certain prognostications, exorcisms, and recipes that appear at the end of the predictions for the thirty days of the moon.

[2754] Ed. Leemans, 1833-1885.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ed. Leemans, 1833-1885.

[2755] Bouché-Leclercq (1899), 537-42; (1879-1882), I, 258-65. Berthelot, Alchimistes grecs (1888), I, 86-90. K. Sudhoff (1902), pp. 4-6.

[2755] Bouché-Leclercq (1899), 537-42; (1879-1882), I, 258-65. Berthelot, Greek Alchemists (1888), I, 86-90. K. Sudhoff (1902), pp. 4-6.

[2756] Arundel 319, 13th century, fol. 2r, Versus de faustis vel infaustis nominibus pugnantium, is a medieval Latin example.

[2756] Arundel 319, 13th century, fol. 2r, Verses about the favorable or unfavorable names of those in battle, is a medieval Latin example.

[2757] Printed among treatises of dubious or spurious authorship with Bede’s works, Migne, PL 90, 963-6; and more recently in Riess’ edition of the fragments of Nechepso and Petosiris (Philologus, Suppl. VI, 1891-1893, pp. 382-3) from Cod. Laur. XXXVIII, 24, 9-10th century, fol. 174v. Wickersheimer (1913), pp. 315-7, notes BN 17868, 10th century, fol. 13. For other MSS see Appendix I to this chapter.

[2757] Printed among writings of questionable or false authorship alongside Bede’s works, Migne, PL 90, 963-6; and more recently in Riess’ edition of the fragments of Nechepso and Petosiris (Philologus, Suppl. VI, 1891-1893, pp. 382-3) from Cod. Laur. XXXVIII, 24, 9-10th century, fol. 174v. Wickersheimer (1913), pp. 315-7, mentions BN 17868, 10th century, fol. 13. For more manuscripts, see Appendix I to this chapter.

[2758] Printed by Paul Lehmann, Apuleiusfragmente, Hermes XLIX (1914), 612-20. For a list of some MSS of it see Appendix I at the close of this chapter.

[2758] Printed by Paul Lehmann, Apuleiusfragmente, Hermes XLIX (1914), 612-20. For a list of some MSS of it see Appendix I at the close of this chapter.

[2759] Polycraticus I, 13, ed. Webb, I, 54. Mr. Webb in a note refers to an article in a German periodical (K. Gillert, Neues Archiv d. Gesellschaft f. ältere deutsche Geschichtskunde, V, 254) concerning a MS of the Sphere of Pythagoras preserved at Petrograd, but says nothing of the MSS in the British Museum listed in Appendix I to this chapter,—a good illustration of the unnecessary obsequiousness of English towards German scholarship which has frequently prevailed in the past.

[2759] Polycraticus I, 13, ed. Webb, I, 54. Mr. Webb in a note mentions an article in a German journal (K. Gillert, Neues Archiv d. Gesellschaft f. ältere deutsche Geschichtskunde, V, 254) about a manuscript of the Sphere of Pythagoras kept in Petrograd, but he does not mention the manuscripts in the British Museum listed in Appendix I of this chapter—an excellent example of the unnecessary favoritism shown by the English towards German scholarship that has often occurred in the past.

[2760] A few of them will be found listed in Appendix I to this chapter.

[2760] A few of them can be found listed in Appendix I of this chapter.

[2761] Egerton 821, 12th century, fol. 15r, “Hec est spera quod fecit sanctus Donatus. Quicumque egrotare incipit....” It is followed on the next page by the usual figure for the Sphere of Apuleius.

[2761] Egerton 821, 12th century, fol. 15r, “This is the sphere that Saint Donatus made. Whoever starts to feel unwell....” It is followed on the next page by the usual figure for the Sphere of Apuleius.

[2762] Harleian 1735; the passages referred to in the following account occur at fols. 36v, 41, 43, 29, 44v, 40, and 39v respectively.

[2762] Harleian 1735; the sections mentioned in the following account are found on pages 36v, 41, 43, 29, 44v, 40, and 39v, respectively.

[2763] See Appendix II to this chapter for a list of MSS other than those mentioned in the following notes.

[2763] See Appendix II to this chapter for a list of MSS besides those mentioned in the following notes.

[2764] BN nouv. acq. 1616, 9th century, fol. 12r.

[2764] BN nouv. acq. 1616, 9th century, fol. 12r.

[2765] Digby 63, end of 9th century, fol. 36.

[2765] Digby 63, late 9th century, fol. 36.

[2766] Ibid., fols. 40-5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., pp. 40-5.

[2767] CU Trinity 1369, 11th century, fol. iv.

[2767] CU Trinity 1369, 11th century, fol. iv.

[2768] BN 7299A, 12th century, fol. 37v.

[2768] BN 7299A, 12th century, fol. 37v.

[2769] For further information on this point see Budge, Egyptian Magic, 1899, pp. 225-8; Webster, Rest Days, 1916, pp. 295-7.

[2769] For more details on this topic, see Budge, Egyptian Magic, 1899, pp. 225-8; Webster, Rest Days, 1916, pp. 295-7.

[2770] Webster (1916), pp. 300-301, however, speaks of 30 in a 14th century MS, 32 in an English MS of Henry VI’s reign, and 31 in another 15th century MS.

[2770] Webster (1916), pp. 300-301, however, mentions 30 in a 14th-century manuscript, 32 in an English manuscript from the reign of Henry VI, and 31 in another 15th-century manuscript.

[2771] Cited by Bouché-Leclercq, L’Astrologie grecque, 1899, pp. 485-6, 623.

[2771] Cited by Bouché-Leclercq, Greek Astrology, 1899, pp. 485-6, 623.

[2772] De proprietatibus rerum, 1488, Lindelbach, Heidelberg, IX, 20. This is not to say, however, that they always appear in medieval calendars; I did not find them in any of the 14th and 15th century calendars from Apulia and Iapygia published by G. M. Giovene, Kalendaria vetera, Naples, 1828. His calendars consist of little save saints’ days, although in some of them the beginning of dog-days is marked and when the sun enters each sign of the zodiac.

[2772] De proprietatibus rerum, 1488, Lindelbach, Heidelberg, IX, 20. That said, they don’t always show up in medieval calendars; I couldn’t find them in any of the 14th and 15th-century calendars from Apulia and Iapygia published by G. M. Giovene, Kalendaria vetera, Naples, 1828. His calendars mainly feature saints’ days, though some mark the start of dog days and the moments when the sun moves into each zodiac sign.

[2773] “Black earth” was the name given by the Egyptians to their country.

[2773] “Black earth” was the term the Egyptians used for their homeland.

[2774] Imago mundi, II, 109.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Imago mundi, Vol. II, 109.

[2775] Speculum naturale, XVI, 83, printed by Anth. Koburger, Nürnberg, 1485.

[2775] Natural Speculum, XVI, 83, printed by Anth. Koburger, Nürnberg, 1485.

[2776] HL 25, 329. My impression is that some medieval astronomers also denied to these Egyptian days any astrological importance, since they always came upon the same days of the months without reference to the phases of the moon or courses of the other planets: but I cannot put my hand on such passages.

[2776] HL 25, 329. I get the sense that some medieval astronomers also dismissed the astrological significance of these Egyptian days, as they consistently fell on the same days of the month without considering the phases of the moon or the movements of the other planets. However, I can't pinpoint those specific references.

[2777] And is approvingly cited to that effect by Arnald of Villanova, Regulae generales curationis morborum. Doctrina IV.

[2777] And is positively referenced to that effect by Arnald of Villanova, General Rules for the Treatment of Diseases. Doctrine IV.

[2778] Ashmole 361, mid 14th century, fols. 158v-159.

[2778] Ashmole 361, mid 14th century, fols. 158v-159.

[2779] BN 7337, 14-15th century, p. 75. Ad-Damîrî states in his zoological lexicon, (ed. A. S. G. Jayaker, 1906, I, 134) that Mohammed is reported to have said, “Be cautious of twelve days in the year, because they are such as cause the loss of property and bring on disgrace or dishonor.”

[2779] BN 7337, 14-15th century, p. 75. Ad-Damîrî mentions in his zoological lexicon, (ed. A. S. G. Jayaker, 1906, I, 134) that Mohammed is said to have said, “Be careful of twelve days in the year, as they can lead to the loss of property and bring disgrace or dishonor.”

[2780] M. Hamilton, Greek Saints and Their Festivals, 1910, p. 187, states that “in all parts of (modern) Greece on certain days of August and March it is considered necessary to abstain from particular kinds of work in order to avoid disaster.”

[2780] M. Hamilton, Greek Saints and Their Festivals, 1910, p. 187, states that “in all parts of (modern) Greece on certain days in August and March, it is seen as essential to refrain from specific types of work to prevent disaster.”

[2781] Mention may perhaps be made in this connection of the “Tobias nights,” three nights of abstinence which newly wedded couples were sometimes accustomed to observe in the middle ages in order to defeat the demons. The practice is mentioned in the Vulgate, but not in most ancient versions of the Book of Tobit. In 1409 the citizens of Abbeville won a lawsuit with the bishop of Amiens who claimed the right to grant dispensations from the observance of the Tobias nights and required that fees be paid him for that purpose. See J. G. Frazer (1918), I, 498-520, where analogous practices of primitive tribes are listed.

[2781] It's worth mentioning the "Tobias nights," which were three nights of abstinence that newly married couples sometimes followed in the Middle Ages to ward off demons. This practice is mentioned in the Vulgate but isn't found in most ancient versions of the Book of Tobit. In 1409, the citizens of Abbeville won a lawsuit against the bishop of Amiens, who claimed the right to grant exceptions from observing the Tobias nights and demanded fees for that. See J. G. Frazer (1918), I, 498-520, for similar practices among primitive tribes.

[2782] Bateson, Medieval England, 1904, p. 72; I have in the main followed the fuller account in DNB “Gerard,” from which the previous quotation is taken. William of Malmesbury, Gesta Pontificum Anglorum, III, 118 (ed. N. E. S. A. Hamilton, RS, vol. 52, 1870) does not say definitely that the book found under Gerard’s pillow was Firmicus. Also he says nothing of boys stoning the bier or of Gerard’s enemies interpreting his death as a divine judgment, and in his autograph copy of the Gesta Pontificum he afterwards erased the statements that rumor accused Gerard of many crimes and lusts, and that he was said to practice sorcery because he read Julius Firmicus on the sly before the midday hours, and that people say that a book of curious arts was found beneath his pillow when he died. This, the late medieval chroniclers say, was Firmicus: see Ranulf Higden, ed. Lumby, VII, 420, and Knyghton, ed. Twysden, X, SS., 2375.

[2782] Bateson, Medieval England, 1904, p. 72; I have primarily followed the more detailed account in DNB “Gerard,” from which the earlier quotation is taken. William of Malmesbury, Gesta Pontificum Anglorum, III, 118 (ed. N. E. S. A. Hamilton, RS, vol. 52, 1870) does not specifically state that the book found under Gerard’s pillow was Firmicus. He also mentions nothing about boys throwing stones at the bier or Gerard’s enemies interpreting his death as a divine judgment. Additionally, in his original copy of the Gesta Pontificum, he later removed the claims that rumors accused Gerard of numerous crimes and lusts, and that he was rumored to practice sorcery because he secretly read Julius Firmicus before noon. People also claimed that a book of curious arts was found beneath his pillow when he passed away. The late medieval chroniclers say this was Firmicus: see Ranulf Higden, ed. Lumby, VII, 420, and Knyghton, ed. Twysden, X, SS., 2375.

[2783] Firmicus Maternus, ed. Kroll et Skutsch, II (1913), p. iv; and F. Liebermann, ed. Quadripartitus, Halle, 1892, p. 36, and Die Gesetze der Angelsachsen, Halle, 1903-1906, I, 548.

[2783] Firmicus Maternus, ed. Kroll et Skutsch, II (1913), p. iv; and F. Liebermann, ed. Quadripartitus, Halle, 1892, p. 36, and Die Gesetze der Angelsachsen, Halle, 1903-1906, I, 548.

[2784] C. Jourdain, Nicolas Oresme et les astrologues à la cour de Charles V, in Revue des Questions Historiques, 1875, p. 136.

[2784] C. Jourdain, Nicolas Oresme and the Astrologers at the Court of Charles V, in Review of Historical Questions, 1875, p. 136.

[2785] English translation, ed. of 1898, p. 508.

[2785] English translation, ed. of 1898, p. 508.

[2786] N. Valois (1880), p. 305.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ N. Valois (1880), p. 305.

[2787] Additional 17,808, a narrow folio in vellum with all the treatises written in the same large, plain hand with few abbreviations. A considerable part of the MS is occupied by the work on music of Guido of Arezzo (c. 995-1050). This MS is not noted by Wickersheimer or by Bubnov, although it includes treatises on the abacus and the astrolabe which are perhaps by Gerbert.

[2787] An additional 17,808, a slim folio in vellum featuring all the writings in the same large, simple handwriting with minimal abbreviations. A significant portion of the manuscript is dedicated to the work on music by Guido of Arezzo (c. 995-1050). This manuscript is not mentioned by Wickersheimer or Bubnov, although it contains treatises on the abacus and the astrolabe that might be by Gerbert.

[2788] BN 17,868, from the chapter of Notre Dame of Paris, 21 leaves. Wickersheimer (1913), 321-3, states that it has all the marks of the writing of the tenth century: Delisle so dated it. Bubnov (1899), LXVII, regards fols. 14r et seq. as by a slightly older hand than the first portion.

[2788] BN 17,868, from the chapter of Notre Dame of Paris, 21 leaves. Wickersheimer (1913), 321-3, states that it has all the features of writing from the tenth century: Delisle dated it that way. Bubnov (1899), LXVII, considers fols. 14r et seq. to be written by a slightly older hand than the earlier section.

[2789] Bubnov (1899), 124-6, note.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Bubnov (1899), 124-126, note.

[2790] CLM 560, described in Bubnov, Gerberti opera mathematica, 1899, p. xli.

[2790] CLM 560, detailed in Bubnov, Gerberti opera mathematica, 1899, p. xli.

[2791] Ibid., fols. 16r-19, Fragmentum libelli de astrolabio a quodam ex Arabico versi. Incipit, “Ad intimas summe phylosophie disciplinas et sublimia ipsius perfectionis archisteria.” Printed by Bubnov (1899), pp. 370-75.

[2791] Ibid., fols. 16r-19, Fragment of the book on the astrolabe translated from Arabic by a certain author. It begins, “To the deepest disciplines of supreme philosophy and the lofty principles of its perfection.” Printed by Bubnov (1899), pp. 370-75.

[2792] Incipit “Quicumque astronomiam peritiam disciplinae”; the printed editions insert a discere after astronomiam, but it has not been there in the MSS which I have seen and is not needed. Printed by Pez, Thesaurus Anecdotorum Noviss. III, ii, 109-30, (1721) and incorrectly ascribed by him to Hermannus Contractus, because it often occurs in the MSS together with another treatise on the astrolabe by a “Herimannus Christi pauperum peripsima et philosophiae tyronum asello imo limace tardior assecla.” Of this last we shall have more to say presently. The edition of Pez reappears in Migne, PL vol. 143. Bubnov (1899), 114-47, gives a new edition, and at pp. 109-13 a list of the MSS of the work, in which, however, he fails to note the following: and they are also absent from his general index of 153 codices at pp. xvii-xc. BM Additional MS 17808, 11th century, fols. 73v-79r, under the title as in other MSS of “Regulae ex libris Ptolomei regis de compositione astrolapsus.” Yet Bubnov says, p. cxvi, “Catalogues of Additional MSS (omnia volumina inspexi, quae ante a. 1895 edita sunt).” BM Egerton 823, 12th century, fol. 4r. BN 7412, 12th and 13th centuries, fols. 1-9, “Waztalkora sive tract. de utilitatibus astrolabii.” Professor D. B. Macdonald suggests that Waztalkora is for rasmu-l-kura, “the describing of the sphere in lines.”

[2792] Begins “Whoever studies astronomy”; the printed versions add a to learn after astronomy, but it's not in the manuscripts I’ve seen and isn’t necessary. Printed by Pez, Thesaurus Anecdotorum Noviss. III, ii, 109-30, (1721) and incorrectly credited by him to Hermannus Contractus, because it often appears in the manuscripts alongside another treatise on the astrolabe by a “Herimannus Christi pauperum peripsima et philosophiae tyronum asello imo limace tardior assecla.” We’ll discuss that one more later. Pez's edition is also found in Migne, PL vol. 143. Bubnov (1899), 114-47, offers a new edition, and on pages 109-13, he lists the manuscripts of the work, but he fails to mention the following: they are also missing from his general index of 153 codices on pages xvii-xc. BM Additional MS 17808, 11th century, fols. 73v-79r, under the title as seen in other manuscripts “Regulae ex libris Ptolomei regis de compositione astrolapsus.” However, Bubnov states on page cxvi, “I’ve checked all Additional MSS (I’ve looked through all volumes published before 1895).” BM Egerton 823, 12th century, fol. 4r. BN 7412, 12th and 13th centuries, fols. 1-9, “Waztalkora sive tract. de utilitatibus astrolabii.” Professor D. B. Macdonald suggests that Waztalkora stands for rasmu-l-kura, “the describing of the sphere in lines.”

[2793] (1899), p. 370.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ (1899), p. 370.

[2794] (1899), p. 374.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ (1899), p. 374.

[2795] Ep. 24.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Episode 24.

[2796] (1899), p. 370.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ (1899), p. 370.

[2797] P. 109.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pg. 109.

[2798] Bubnov (1899), 370.... “Hoc opusculum ex Arabico versum ad manum habuit, retractavit dicendique genere expolivit.”

[2798] Bubnov (1899), 370.... “This work, translated from Arabic, was at hand, revised, and polished in terms of style.”

[2799] Printed by Pez. Thesaur. Anecdot. Noviss. III, ii, 95-106. “Herimannus Christi pauperum peripsima et philosophiae tyronum asello imo limace tardior assecla.” The MSS are numerous.

[2799] Printed by Pez. Thesaur. Anecdot. Noviss. III, ii, 95-106. “Herimannus, a servant of Christ, is slower than the lowest mule and the lowest snail, an attendant of the poor and a beginner in philosophy.” The manuscripts are numerous.

[2800] Digby 174, fol. 210v; also noted by Bubnov (1899), p. 113. Hermann’s dedicatory prologue, however, does not give his friend’s name in full, but reads in this MS, “B. amico suo.”

[2800] Digby 174, fol. 210v; also noted by Bubnov (1899), p. 113. Hermann’s dedicatory prologue, however, does not provide his friend's full name, but states in this manuscript, “B. amico suo.”

[2801] See Clerval, Hermann le Dalmate, Paris, 1891, in Compte rendu du Congrès scientifique international des catholiques, Sciences Historiques, 163-9. Also, I believe, published separately as Hermann le Dalmate et les premières traductions latines des traités arabes d’astronomie au moyen âge, Paris, Picard, 1891, 11 pp. Clerval adduced only one MS in support of his contention and took up the untenable position that Arabic astronomy was unknown in Latin until the twelfth century. He also did not distinguish between the different works on the astrolabe.

[2801] See Clerval, Hermann le Dalmate, Paris, 1891, in Compte rendu du Congrès scientifique international des catholiques, Sciences Historiques, 163-9. Also, I believe, published separately as Hermann le Dalmate et les premières traductions latines des traités arabes d’astronomie au moyen âge, Paris, Picard, 1891, 11 pp. Clerval only referenced one manuscript to support his claim and took the unsupported stance that Arabic astronomy was not known in Latin until the twelfth century. He also failed to differentiate between the various works on the astrolabe.

[2802] Munich CLM 14836, fols. 16v-24r. BM Royal 15-B-IX, fol. 51r-: in both cases followed by the treatise of twenty-one chapters.

[2802] Munich CLM 14836, fols. 16v-24r. BM Royal 15-B-IX, fol. 51r-: in both cases followed by the treatise of twenty-one chapters.

[2803] Professor Haskins has announced as in preparation an article on Hermann the translator which will perhaps solve the difficulties.

[2803] Professor Haskins has announced that he is preparing an article on Hermann the translator, which might help clarify the challenges.

[2804] In a Berlin manuscript of the twelfth century (Berlin 956, fol. 11) there is added a note in a thirteenth century hand recounting the legend that this Hermann was the son of a king and queen and that, his mother having been asked before his birth whether she would prefer a handsome and foolish son or a learned and shamefully ugly one and she having chosen the latter alternative, he was born hunchbacked and lame. It was from this MS of the treatise on the astrolabe that Pertz edited the legend in the Monumenta Germaniae (Scriptores, V, 267). Rose (1905), p. 1179, calls the writer of this note Berengar, too, asking anent the opening words of the note, “De isto hermanno legitur in historia,” “Aus welcher historia hat der Schreiber (Berengarius) seine Fabeln?” The note at the close of the treatise in Digby 174, fol. 210v, gives a different version of the legend, stating that Hermann was a good man and dear to God and that one day an angel offered him his choice between bodily health without great wisdom and the greatest science with corporal infirmity. Hermann chose the latter and afterwards became a paralytic and gouty.

[2804] In a Berlin manuscript from the twelfth century (Berlin 956, fol. 11), there is a note added in thirteenth-century handwriting recounting the legend that this Hermann was the son of a king and queen. His mother, asked before his birth whether she would prefer a handsome but foolish son or a learned but shamefully ugly one, chose the latter option. As a result, he was born hunchbacked and lame. This manuscript of the treatise on the astrolabe was where Pertz edited the legend in the Monumenta Germaniae (Scriptores, V, 267). Rose (1905), p. 1179, also refers to the writer of this note as Berengar, asking about the opening words of the note, “De isto hermanno legitur in historia,” “From which history did the writer (Berengarius) get his fables?” The note at the end of the treatise in Digby 174, fol. 210v, provides a different version of the legend, stating that Hermann was a good man beloved by God, and that one day an angel offered him a choice between physical health without great wisdom and the greatest knowledge with bodily infirmity. Hermann chose the latter and later became paralyzed and suffered from gout.

[2805] This treatise, in which Hermann expresses amazement that Bede has so underestimated the duration of the moon, immediately precedes the one on the astrolabe in BN nouv. acq. 229, a German MS of the twelfth century, fols. 17r-19r (formerly pp. 265-269). After the treatise on the astrolabe follows a third work by Hermann, “de quodam horologio,” fols. 25v-28r. Then follows the treatise in twenty-one chapters on the astrolabe.

[2805] This document, where Hermann expresses his surprise that Bede has significantly underestimated the duration of the moon, comes right before the one about the astrolabe in BN nouv. acq. 229, a German manuscript from the twelfth century, pages 17r-19r (previously pp. 265-269). After the astrolabe treatise, there’s a third work by Hermann, titled “de quodam horologio,” on pages 25v-28r. Next is the treatise in twenty-one chapters on the astrolabe.

These citations alone are sufficient to demonstrate the error of Clerval’s assertion: (1891), 165. “On ne peut invoquer aucune preuve sérieuse en faveur d’Hermann Contract. Jacques de Bergame et Trithème ... sont les premiers qui aient attribué au moine de Constance les traités en question.”

These citations alone are enough to prove that Clerval’s claim is wrong: (1891), 165. “There is no serious evidence in favor of Hermann Contract. Jacques de Bergamo and Trithemius ... are the first to attribute the texts in question to the monk of Constance.”

[2806] Bubnov (1899) 372. “Habet etiam ex divinitatis archana institutione et physica lata ratione cum omnibus mundanis creaturis concordiam in rebus omnibus, secundum phisiologos non parvam congruentiam....” Bubnov unfortunately used only one of his four MSS in printing this text, and there often seems to be something wrong with it or with his punctuation. This criticism applies more especially to the passage quoted in the following footnote.

[2806] Bubnov (1899) 372. “There is also a connection with the mysteries of divinity and a broad physical reasoning that aligns with all earthly creatures in all matters, according to the physiologists, showing quite a bit of agreement….” Unfortunately, Bubnov used only one of his four manuscripts when publishing this text, and there often appears to be issues either with it or his punctuation. This critique is particularly relevant to the passage cited in the following footnote.

[2807] Ibid., “Et ut Chaldaicas reticeam gentilogias (sic) qui omnem humanam vitam astrologicis attribuunt rationationibus et quosdam constellationum effectus per xii signa disponunt, quique etiam conceptiones et nativitates, hominumque mores, prospera seu adversa ex cursu siderum explicare conantur. Quod illorum tamen frivolae superstitiositati concedendum est, dum omnia divinae dispositioni commendanda sint. Illud est ovum a nullo forbillandum (Bubnov suggests the reading furcillandum in parentheses, but sorbillandum seems to me the obvious reading), nisi prius foetidos inscitiae exhalaverit ructus et feces mundialium evomerit studiorum.” The passage is rather incoherent as it stands, but I hope that I have correctly interpreted its meaning.

[2807] Ibid., “And to avoid discussing Chaldean genealogies (so-called) which attribute all human life to astrological reasoning and explain some effects of constellations through the twelve signs, and which also attempt to clarify conceptions and births, the behavior of people, and their fortunes or misfortunes based on the movement of the stars. However, we must concede that these are frivolous superstitions, since everything should be entrusted to divine guidance. This is an egg that should not be disturbed by anyone (Bubnov suggests reading furcillandum in parentheses, but sorbillandum seems to be the obvious choice), unless it has first belched out the foulness of ignorance and expelled the waste of worldly studies.” The passage is rather incoherent as it stands, but I hope that I have correctly interpreted its meaning.

[2808] III, 43-45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 43-45.

[2809] Ademarus Cabannensis, who died about 1035 (Bubnov, 1899, 382-3). For Gerbert’s sources in Barcelona see J. M. Burnam, “A Group of Spanish Manuscripts,” in Bulletin Hispanique, Annales de la Faculté des Lettres de Bordeaux, XXII, 4, p. 329.

[2809] Ademarus Cabannensis, who died around 1035 (Bubnov, 1899, 382-3). For Gerbert's sources in Barcelona, see J. M. Burnam's “A Group of Spanish Manuscripts,” in Bulletin Hispanique, Annales de la Faculté des Lettres de Bordeaux, XXII, 4, p. 329.

[2810] III, 48-53.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 48-53.

[2811] “Plurima me docuit Neptanebus ille magister” (Bubnov, 381).

[2811] “Neptanebus taught me a lot” (Bubnov, 381).

[2812] De rebus gestis regum Anglorum, II, 167-8.

[2812] On the deeds of the kings of England, II, 167-8.

[2813] Bodleian 266, fol. 25r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Bodleian 266, p. 25r.

[2814] Bubnov (1899), 391. On Gerbert as a magician see further J. J. I. Döllinger, Die Papst-Fabeln des Mittelalters, Munich, 1863, pp. 155-59.

[2814] Bubnov (1899), 391. For more on Gerbert as a magician, see J. J. I. Döllinger, Die Papst-Fabeln des Mittelalters, Munich, 1863, pp. 155-59.

[2815] Digby 83, quarto in skin, well written in large letters with few abbreviations and illustrated with many figures in red, 76 leaves. For the Incipits of the four books and their prologues see Macray’s Catalogue of the Digby MSS.

[2815] Digby 83, quarto bound in leather, clearly written in large letters with few shortcuts and filled with many red illustrations, 76 pages. For the Incipits of the four books and their introductions, see Macray’s Catalogue of the Digby MSS.

[2816] Another indication of mathematical activity in tenth century England is provided by some old verses in English in Royal 17-A-I, fols. 2v-3, which state that Euclid’s geometry was introduced into England “Yn tyme of good kyng Adelstones day.” Usually the first Latin translation of Euclid is supposed to have been that by Adelard of Bath in the early twelfth century. Halliwell (1839), 56.

[2816] Another sign of mathematical activity in tenth century England comes from some old verses in English found in Royal 17-A-I, fols. 2v-3, which say that Euclid’s geometry was introduced to England “In the time of good King Adelstone’s day.” Typically, the first Latin translation of Euclid is thought to be the one by Adelard of Bath in the early twelfth century. Halliwell (1839), 56.

[2817] Digby 83, fol. 24, “Epistola Ethelwodi ad Girbertum papam. Domino summo pontifici et philosopho Girberto pape athelwoldus vite felicitatem.. ..” Gerbert of course did not become pope until long after Ethelwold’s death, but this Titulus and Incipit are open to suspicion anyway, since if Gerbert had become pope he should have been addressed as Pope Silvester. The article on Ethelwold (DNB) states that “a treatise on the circle, said to have been written by him and addressed to Gerbert, afterwards Pope Silvester II, is in the Bodleian Library (1684, Bodl. MS. Digby 83, f. 24).” William of Malmesbury mentioned “Adelboldum episcopum, ut dicunt, Winterbrugensem” as the author of the letter to Gerbert, quoted by Bubnov (1899), 388.

[2817] Digby 83, fol. 24, “Letter from Ethelwold to Pope Gerbert. To the supreme pontiff and philosopher Pope Gerbert, Ethelwold wishes you a long life...” Gerbert, of course, didn’t become pope until long after Ethelwold’s death, but this title and opening are questionable anyway, since if Gerbert had become pope, he should have been addressed as Pope Sylvester. The article on Ethelwold (DNB) states that “a treatise on the circle, claimed to have been written by him and addressed to Gerbert, who later became Pope Sylvester II, is in the Bodleian Library (1684, Bodl. MS. Digby 83, f. 24).” William of Malmesbury mentioned “Adelboldum episcopum, as they say, from Winterbrug,” as the author of the letter to Gerbert, quoted by Bubnov (1899), 388.

[2818] It has always been so printed: by Pez, Olleris, Curtze, and Bubnov, and seems to be ascribed to him in most MSS, for which and other evidence pointing to the bishop of Utrecht as author see Bubnov (1899), 300-309, 41-45, 384, etc. Bubnov, however, failed to note Digby 83 either in connection with this letter or at all in his long list of mathematical MSS (XVII-CXIX). It may therefore be well to note that the letter as given in Digby 83 differs considerably from the version printed by Bubnov. It in general omits epistolary amenities which do not bear directly on the mathematical question in hand, notably the entire first paragraph of Bubnov’s text and the close of the second and third paragraphs. It also abbreviates portions of the fifth paragraph and the last sentence of the eighth and last paragraph. On the other hand after the first sentence of the fifth paragraph of Bubnov’s text it inserts the following passage which seems to be missing in Bubnov’s text of the letter: “Si quis ergo vult invenire quadraturam circuli dividat lineam in VII partes spatiumque unius septime partis semotim ponat. Deinde lineam in VII divisam in duo distribuat et spatium alterius duorum separatim ponat. Post hoc lineam in VII partitam triplicet cui triplicate spatium unius septime quod semoverat adiciat. Ipsa denique totam in IIII partiatur quarum quarta angulis directis per lineam quadrangulam metiatur. Ad ultimum sumpto spatio alterius duorum quod prius reposuerat deposito puncto in medio quadranguli eodem spatio circumducat circinum (circulum) et sic inveniet circuli quadraturam.”

[2818] It has always been printed this way: by Pez, Olleris, Curtze, and Bubnov, and seems to be attributed to him in most manuscripts. For more evidence suggesting the bishop of Utrecht as the author, see Bubnov (1899), 300-309, 41-45, 384, etc. However, Bubnov didn’t mention Digby 83, either in relation to this letter or anywhere in his extensive list of mathematical manuscripts (XVII-CXIX). Therefore, it’s worth noting that the letter as presented in Digby 83 differs significantly from the version printed by Bubnov. Generally, it leaves out polite formalities that are not directly related to the mathematical issue at hand, particularly the entire first paragraph of Bubnov’s text and the endings of the second and third paragraphs. It also shortens parts of the fifth paragraph and the last sentence of the eighth and final paragraph. On the other hand, after the first sentence of the fifth paragraph in Bubnov’s text, it inserts the following passage that seems to be missing in Bubnov’s version of the letter: “If anyone wants to find the quadrature of a circle, they should divide a line into seven parts and place the space of one-seventh separately. Then, they should distribute the line divided into seven into two parts and place the space of the other two separately. After this, they should triple the previously divided line of seven and add the tripled space of one-seventh that was kept separate. Finally, they should divide the whole into four parts, measuring the fourth with right angles using a rectangular line. Lastly, with the space of the other two, which they had placed earlier, they should deposit a point in the middle of the rectangle and using that same space, draw a circle, and thus they will find the quadrature of the circle.”

[2819] Bubnov (1899), 41-42, “quod tantum virum quasi conscolasticum iuvenis convenio.”

[2819] Bubnov (1899), 41-42, “that I can meet with a man almost like a peer.”

[2820] Bubnov does not include it in his edition of the mathematical works of Gerbert, but as we have seen he was unaware of the existence of this MS, i.e., Digby 83.

[2820] Bubnov doesn't include it in his edition of Gerbert's mathematical works, but as we've seen, he was unaware of this manuscript, Digby 83.

[2821] And also to the Incipit of a treatise in a tenth century MS at Paris, BN 17,868, fol. 14r, “Quicumque nosse desiderat legem astrorum....” The treatise or fragment in this Paris MS seems to end at fol. 17r, or at least at fol. 17v, after which most of the few remaining leaves of the MS, which has only 21 leaves in all, are blank. There is some similarity of contents, but the Paris MS is more astrological. Possibly, however, it is a different part of, or rather extracts from the same work, since we shall see reasons for thinking that the text in Digby 83 is incomplete.

[2821] And also to the Incipit of a treatise in a tenth-century manuscript in Paris, BN 17,868, fol. 14r, “Whoever desires to know the law of the stars....” The treatise or fragment in this Paris manuscript seems to end at fol. 17r, or at least at fol. 17v, after which most of the few remaining pages of the manuscript, which has only 21 pages in total, are blank. There are some similarities in content, but the Paris manuscript is more focused on astrology. However, it may be a different section of, or rather excerpts from, the same work, since we'll see reasons to believe that the text in Digby 83 is incomplete.

[2822] At least such seems to me to be the meaning of the passage, fol. 21r, “Quippe cum aliquando per situm gentium ipsarum positionem stellarum demonstrati simus precognita populorum habitatione rei effectus ad faciliorem curret eventus.”

[2822] At least that's how I interpret the passage, fol. 21r, “Since we have sometimes been shown through the arrangement of the stars in their positions the habitation of nations, the outcomes will unfold more easily.”

[2823] Fol. 22r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pg. 22r.

[2824] Fol. 76r, the closing words are, “Quod autem de elementis diximus idem de temporibus deque humoribus intellige sicut hec figura evidentissime designat.” But the figure is not given.

[2824] Fol. 76r, the closing words are, “What we said about the elements, understand the same about the times and the humors as this figure clearly shows.” But the figure is not provided.

[2825] Fol. 27v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fol. 27v.

[2826] Fol. 31v, “per que predicti planete revoluti diversa in diversis possunt et etiam secundum genethliacos bonum quidam in quibusdam malum vero in quibusdam quidam nativitatibus hominem astruunt.”

[2826] Fol. 31v, “because the aforementioned planets can have different effects in various situations and also according to the horoscopes—some can be beneficial in certain births while others can be detrimental in some.”

[2827] Fol. 32r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pg. 32.

[2828] Fol. 36r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fol. 36r.

[2829] Fol. 59r, “Herastotenes.”

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fol. 59r, “Herastotenes.”

[2830] Fol. 21r-v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Page 21.

[2831] Fol. 32r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pg. 32r.

[2832] De rebus gestis regum Anglorum, II, 167.

[2832] On the Deeds of the Kings of England, II, 167.

[2833] Addit. 17808, fols. 85v-99v, “Mathematica Alhandrei summi astrologi. Luna est frigide nature et argentei coloris / oculis descriptio talis subiciatur”: and CLM 560, fols. 61-87, which I have not seen but which from the description in the catalogue is evidently the same treatise and has the same Incipit, although no author or title seems to be given.

[2833] Addit. 17808, fols. 85v-99v, “Mathematica Alhandrei, the great astrologer. The moon has a cold nature and a silver color / a description to be submitted to the eyes”: and CLM 560, fols. 61-87, which I haven't seen but from the description in the catalog, it clearly refers to the same treatise and has the same Incipit, even though no author or title appears to be provided.

[2834] Bodleian 266, fol. 179v, “libellum fortune faciens mentionem de tribus faciebus signorum et planetis regnantibus in eisdem ... mulieres docte.”

[2834] Bodleian 266, fol. 179v, “a little book mentioning fortune regarding the three aspects of signs and the planets ruling over them ... learned women.”

[2835] BN 2598, 15th century, fol. 108r.

[2835] BN 2598, 15th century, fol. 108r.

[2836] BN 17868, fols. 2r-12v. “Incipit liber Alchandrei” (Wickersheimer) or Alchandri (Bubnov) “philosophi. Luna est frigide nature et argentei coloris.” In a passage of Addit. 17808, fol. 86v, where the years from the beginning of the world are being reckoned, the year of writing is apparently given as 1040 A. D., but the existence of the treatise in BN 17868 shows that it was written before 1000. Also there is something wrong with the passage mentioned in Addit. 17808—as is very apt to be the case with such figures in medieval MSS—for the number of years from the beginning of the world to the birth of Christ is given as 4970 and then the sum of the two as 6018 instead of 6010 years, while at fol. 85v other estimates are given of the number of years between the Creation and the Incarnation.

[2836] BN 17868, fols. 2r-12v. “Incipit liber Alchandrei” (Wickersheimer) or Alchandri (Bubnov) “philosophi. The moon has a cold nature and a silvery color.” In a passage of Addit. 17808, fol. 86v, where they count the years from the beginning of the world, the year of writing is apparently stated as 1040 A.D., but the existence of the treatise in BN 17868 indicates that it was written before 1000. There’s also an issue with the passage mentioned in Addit. 17808—as often happens with such figures in medieval manuscripts—because the number of years from the beginning of the world to the birth of Christ is stated as 4970 and then the total as 6018 instead of 6010 years, while at fol. 85v other estimates are provided for the number of years between the Creation and the Incarnation.

[2837] The spellings of such proper names vary in the different MSS or even in the same one.

[2837] The spellings of these proper names differ in the various manuscripts or even within the same one.

[2838] Steinschneider (1905) 30, briefly notes “Alcandrinus,” however. See below, p. 715 of the present chapter.

[2838] Steinschneider (1905) 30, briefly mentions "Alcandrinus," though. See below, p. 715 of the present chapter.

[2839] Addit. 17808, fol. 85v; BN 17868, fol. 2r.

[2839] Addit. 17808, fol. 85v; BN 17868, fol. 2r.

[2840] Addit. 17808, fols. 86r-87r; BN 17868, fol. 3v.

[2840] Addit. 17808, fols. 86r-87r; BN 17868, fol. 3v.

[2841] Addit. 17808, fols. 87v-88r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Addit. 17808, pp. 87-88.

[2842] BN 17868, fol. 2r; Addit. 17808, fol. 85v; “Iuxta que quia omnia humana secundum nutum dei disponuntur per septem planetas que subter (subtus) feruntur eorum nobis potestas innuitur”: BN 17868, fol. 3r; Addit. 17808, fol. 86v, “Per has autem vii planetas quia ut diximus et adhuc probabimus humana fata disponuntur regulam certam demus qua in quo signo queque sit pronoscatur.” Only in a third passage does he attribute such views to the mathematici; Addit. 17808, fol. 88v, “Cum sint signa xii in zodiaco cumque iuxta mathematicos et secundum horum diversissimos potestates fata omnium ita volente sapientissimo domino disponantur....”

[2842] BN 17868, fol. 2r; Addit. 17808, fol. 85v; “According to this, since all human affairs are arranged by the will of God through the seven planets that are beneath (under), it is suggested that we have power over them”: BN 17868, fol. 3r; Addit. 17808, fol. 86v, “Through these seven planets, because as we said and will further demonstrate, human destinies are arranged, let us provide a definite rule by which it can be predicted what is found in each sign.” Only in a third passage does he attribute such views to the mathematicians; Addit. 17808, fol. 88v, “Since there are twelve signs in the zodiac and according to the mathematicians and based on their various powers, the destinies of all are thus arranged at the will of the wisest Lord....”

[2843] Addit. 17808, fol. 89r, “Que quum ita discernuntur non falsa opinio persuasit istis humana principaliter gubernante domino moderari cum itaque ut mundus homo unusquisque ex his iiii compaginetur elementis.”

[2843] Addit. 17808, fol. 89r, “Since they are discerned this way, a false opinion has convinced these people that the human ruler primarily governs everything in a way that the world and each individual are made up of these four elements.”

[2844] Addit. 17808, fol. 89v. But the lists are left incomplete and a blank leaf, which is also left unnumbered, follows in the MS.

[2844] Addit. 17808, fol. 89v. But the lists are left unfinished and a blank page, which is also unlabeled, comes next in the MS.

[2845] BN 17868, fol. 5r: Addit. 17808, fol. 90r, “Hec sunt xxviii principales partes vel astra per que omnium fata disponuntur et indubitanter tam futura quam presentia prenuntiantur a quocumque itus reditus ortus occasus horum horoscoporum iocundissimo auxilio diligenter providentur.”

[2845] BN 17868, fol. 5r: Addit. 17808, fol. 90r, “These are the twenty-eight main parts or stars through which all destinies are arranged and undoubtedly predict both future and present events by whoever determines the rises and settings of these horoscopes with delightful care.”

[2846] BN 17868, fol. 5v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ BN 17868, p. 5v.

[2847] BN 17868, fol. 6r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ BN 17868, fol. 6r.

[2848] BN 17868, fol. 9r-; Addit. 17808, fols. 94v-95v.

[2848] BN 17868, fol. 9r-; Addit. 17808, fols. 94v-95v.

[2849] BN 17868, fol. 10r; Addit. 17808, fol. 96r.

[2849] BN 17868, fol. 10r; Addit. 17808, fol. 96r.

[2850] Addit. 17808, fol. 97r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Addit. 17808, fol. 97r.

[2851] Addit. 17808, fol. 97v. In BN 17868, fol. 11r, we read, “Explicit liber primus. Incipit liber secundus.” And then begins the letter of Argafalaus with the words, “Regi macedonum Alexandro astrologo et universa philosophia perfectissimo Argafalaus servuus suus condicione et nacione ingenuus caldeus, professione vero secundus ab illo astrologus.”

[2851] Addit. 17808, fol. 97v. In BN 17868, fol. 11r, we read, “End of the first book. Beginning of the second book.” And then starts the letter from Argafalaus with the words, “To Alexander, the astrologer and master of all philosophy, Argafalaus, his humble servant, of free birth and decent lineage, a Chaldean, and indeed the second astrologer after him.”

[2852] Addit. 17808, fol. 99r-v. This does not appear in BN 17868 which goes on to discuss various astrological influences of the 12 hours of the day and of the night. After this there is a space left blank in the middle of fol. 12v: then more is said concerning hours of the planets and interrogations until at the bottom of fol. 13r comes the letter of Phethosiris to Nechepso. But no definite ending is indicated either of the letter of Argafalaus or the Liber Secundus of Alchandrus.

[2852] Addit. 17808, fol. 99r-v. This doesn’t show up in BN 17868, which continues to discuss the different astrological influences of the 12 hours of the day and night. After this, there’s a blank space in the middle of fol. 12v: then it talks further about the hours of the planets and inquiries until at the bottom of fol. 13r comes the letter from Phethosiris to Nechepso. But there’s no clear ending indicated for either the letter from Argafalaus or the Liber Secundus of Alchandrus.

In a MS now missing but listed in the late 15th century catalogue of the MSS in the library of St. Augustine’s Abbey, Canterbury (No. 1172, James 332) was a “Breviarium alhandredi su’m astrologi et peritissimi de soia (scienda?) qualibet ignota nullo decrete.” This was one of the MSS donated to the monastery by John of London.

In a manuscript that is now lost but was listed in the late 15th-century catalog of the manuscripts in the library of St. Augustine’s Abbey, Canterbury (No. 1172, James 332), there was a “Breviarium alhandredi su’m astrologi et peritissimi de soia (scienda?) qualibet ignota nullo decrete.” This was one of the manuscripts donated to the monastery by John of London.

BN 4161, 16th century, #5, Breviarium Alhandriae, summi Astrologi de scientia qualiter ignota nullo indicante investigari possit.

BN 4161, 16th century, #5, Breviarium Alhandriae, the greatest Astrologer on the knowledge of how the unknown can be explored without any indicators.

[2853] Addit. 17808, fol. 89r, “figuram quam super hac re Alexander Macedo composuit diligentissime posterius describemus”; fol. 95r, “Hinc Alexander macedo dicit eclipsin solis et lune certissima ratione colligi”; fol. 96r. “Aut iuxta alexandrum macedonem draco quasi octava planeta.”

[2853] Addit. 17808, fol. 89r, “the figure that Alexander the Great carefully created about this matter will be described later”; fol. 95r, “Therefore, Alexander the Great states that the eclipse of the sun and moon can be understood with absolute certainty”; fol. 96r. “Or according to Alexander the Great, the dragon is like the eighth planet.”

[2854] Ashmole 369, late 13th century, fols. 77-84v. “Mathematica Alexandri summi astrologi. In exordio omnis creature herus huranicus inter cuncta sidera XII maluit signa fore .../ ... nam quod lineam designat eandem stellam occupat. Explicit.” A further discussion of the contents of this work will be found below in Chapter 48, vol. II, p. 259.

[2854] Ashmole 369, late 13th century, fols. 77-84v. “Mathematics of the great astrologer Alexander. At the beginning of all creation, the lord of the heavens preferred that among all the stars there be twelve signs .../ ... for what indicates a line occupies the same star. The end.” More discussion about this work will be found below in Chapter 48, vol. II, p. 259.

[2855] BN 17868, fol. 17r. The Incipit is the same as in Ashmole 369. The work here seems to be incomplete, since after fol. 17v most of the remaining leaves of the MS (which has 21 fols. in all) are blank.

[2855] BN 17868, fol. 17r. The Incipit is the same as in Ashmole 369. The work here seems to be incomplete, since after fol. 17v most of the remaining pages of the MS (which has 21 pages in total) are blank.

[2856] The vowels being represented by the consonants following, a common medieval cipher.

[2856] The vowels are represented by the consonants that come after them, using a common medieval cipher.

[2857] All Souls 81, 15th century, fols. 145v-164r. “Cum sint 28 mansiones lune....” Coxe was mistaken in thinking that the work of Alkandrinus continued to fol. 188 and was in two parts, for at fol. 163r we read, “Expliciunt iudicia libri Alkandrini que sunt in divisione triplici 12 signorum que sunt apparencie per certa tempora super terram.” Moreover, the seven chapters on the planets which follow end at fol. 183v “ ... finem fecimus. Completa fuit hec compilatio in conversione sancti pauli apostoli anno domini 1350 (1305?) vacante sede per mortem Benedicti undecimi cuius anima requiescat in pace. Amen.” It would therefore seem that some compiler has made an extract from Alchandrus on the twenty-eight mansions.

[2857] All Souls 81, 15th century, fols. 145v-164r. “Since there are 28 lunar mansions....” Coxe was wrong to believe that Alkandrinus's work went on to fol. 188 and was in two parts, because on fol. 163r we read, “Here ends the judgments of the book of Alkandrini, which are in a threefold division of 12 signs that appear at certain times over the earth.” Furthermore, the seven chapters on the planets that follow are completed on fol. 183v “... we have reached the end. This compilation was completed at the conversion of Saint Paul the Apostle in the year of our Lord 1350 (1305?) during the vacancy of the seat due to the death of Benedict XI, may his soul rest in peace. Amen.” It seems that some compiler extracted information from Alchandrus about the twenty-eight mansions.

[2858] BN 10271, fols. 9r-52v, “Incipit liber alchandrini philosophi de nativitatibus hominum secundum compositionem duodecim signorum celi, quem reformavit quidem philosophus cristianus prout patet, quia in quibusdam differt iste liber ab antiquo primordiali. Primo facies arietis in homine sive in masculo. Alnaliet est prima facies arietis....”

[2858] BN 10271, fols. 9r-52v, “Beginning of the book by the philosopher Alchandrin about the births of individuals according to the arrangement of the twelve signs of the sky, which was indeed revised by a Christian philosopher, as it is clear, because in some aspects this book differs from the ancient original. First, the face of Aries in a person or in a male. The face of Aries is the first....”

[2859] Steinschneider (1905), 30.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Steinschneider (1905), 30.

[2860] The editio princeps seems to be “Arcandam doctor peritissimus ac non vulgaris astrologus, de veritatibus et praedictionibus astrologiae et praecipue nativitatum seu fatalis dispositionis vel diei cuiuscunque nati, nuper per Magistrum Richardum Roussat, canonicum Lingoniensem, artium et medicinae professorem, de confuso ac indistincto stilo non minus quam e tenebris in lucem aeditus, re cognitus, ac innumeris (ut pote passim) erratis expurgatus, ita ut per multa maxime necessaria et utilissima adiecerit atque adnotaverit modo eiusdem dexteritate praelo primo donatus.” Paris, 1542.

[2860] The editio princeps appears to be “Arcandam, an expert and non-ordinary astrologer, on the truths and predictions of astrology, especially concerning natal conditions or the fate of any born on a certain day, recently published by Master Richard Roussat, a canon of Langres and a professor of arts and medicine, edited from a confused and unclear style, brought from darkness into light, recognized, and cleansed of countless errors (as can easily be seen), so that he added and noted many essential and useful things, and thus first offered to the press with his skill.” Paris, 1542.

The British Museum also contains another Latin edition of Paris, 1553; French editions of Rouen, 1584 and 1587, Lyons 1625; and English versions printed at London, 1626 (translated from the French), 1630, 1637, and 1670.

The British Museum also holds another Latin edition from Paris, 1553; French editions from Rouen, 1584 and 1587, and Lyons 1625; and English versions printed in London, 1626 (translated from the French), 1630, 1637, and 1670.

[2861] BN 7349, 15th century, fol. 56r, seems only a fragment of the work; BN 7351, 14th century, takes up the various signs.

[2861] BN 7349, 15th century, fol. 56r, appears to be just a fragment of the work; BN 7351, 14th century, covers the different signs.

[2862] CLM 527, 13-14th century, fols. 36-42, de physica signorum et supernascentium et aegrotantium.

[2862] CLM 527, 13-14th century, fols. 36-42, on the physical signs and of those being born and those who are ill.

[2863] Addit. 15236, English hand of 13-14th century, fols. 130-52r “libellus Alchandiandi.” BN 7486, 14th century, “Incipit liber alkardiani phylosophi. Cum omne quod experitur sit experiendum propter se vel propter aliud....”

[2863] Addit. 15236, English hand of 13-14th century, fols. 130-52r “libellus Alchandiandi.” BN 7486, 14th century, “Incipit liber alkardiani phylosophi. Cum omne quod experitur sit experiendum propter se vel propter aliud....”

[2864] The set in which the first line reads, “Tuum indumentum durabit tempore longo.”

[2864] The set in which the first line reads, “Your garment will last a long time.”

[2865] Very probably this title was derived from the Incipit just given in note 4, p. 716.

[2865] This title likely comes from the Incipit mentioned in note 4, p. 716.

[2866] See Sloane 2472, 3554, 3857.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Sloane 2472, 3554, 3857.

[2867] BN 17868, fol. 14r-16v. The letter of Petosiris on the sphere of life and death at fol. 13r-v “Incipit epistola Phetosiri de sphaera” separates this treatise or fragment from the preceding liber Alchandri philosophi. Also this treatise is in a different and slightly older hand than fols. 2-13 are, or at least such was Bubnov’s opinion (1899), 125, note.

[2867] BN 17868, fol. 14r-16v. The letter of Petosiris about the sphere of life and death at fol. 13r-v “Incipit epistola Phetosiri de sphaera” separates this treatise or fragment from the earlier liber Alchandri philosophi. This treatise is also written in a different and slightly older handwriting compared to fols. 2-13, or at least that was Bubnov’s opinion (1899), 125, note.

[2868] BN 17686, fol. 14v, “que sarraceni nuncupant ita.”

[2868] BN 17686, fol. 14v, “which they now call Saracens.”

[2869] Berlin 165 (Phillips 1790), 9-10th century. I have not seen the MS, but follow Rose’s full description of it in his Verzeichnis der lateinischen Handschriften, I, 362-9.

[2869] Berlin 165 (Phillips 1790), 9-10th century. I haven't seen the MS, but I'm following Rose's complete description of it in his Verzeichnis der lateinischen Handschriften, I, 362-9.

[2870] Cod. Casin. 97 Gal. I, 24-51.

[2870] Cod. Casin. 97 Gal. I, 24-51.

[2871] Berlin 165, fol. 88.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berlin 165, fol. 88.

[2872] Ibid., fols. 40-2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., fols. 40-2.

[2873] Ibid., fol. 39v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., fol. 39v.

[2874] Edited with an English translation, which I employ in my quotations, by Rev. Oswald Cockayne in vol. II of his Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England, in RS vol. 35, in 3 vols., London, 1864-1866. The relation of Bald and Cild to the work is indicated by the colophon at the close of the second book: “Bald habet hunc librum, Cild quem conscribere iussit,”—“Bald owns this book; Cild is the one he told to write (or copy?) it.” The following third book is therefore presumably of other authorship.

[2874] Edited with an English translation, which I use in my quotes, by Rev. Oswald Cockayne in vol. II of his Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England, in RS vol. 35, in 3 vols., London, 1864-1866. The connection between Bald and Cild and the work is shown by the colophon at the end of the second book: “Bald habet hunc librum, Cild quem conscribere iussit,”—“Bald owns this book; Cild is the one he instructed to write (or copy?) it.” The following third book is therefore likely by different authors.

[2875] J. F. Payne, English Medicine in Anglo-Saxon Times, 1904, p. 155.

[2875] J. F. Payne, English Medicine in Anglo-Saxon Times, 1904, p. 155.

[2876] Book I, cap. 87.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Book I, ch. 87.

[2877] I, 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Me, 45.

[2878] I, 85.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 85.

[2879] III, 47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 47.

[2880] I, 86.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 86.

[2881] I, 68.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 68.

[2882] II, 66.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 66.

[2883] I, 45.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm 45.

[2884] I, 63.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I, 63.

[2885] II, 65.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ II, 65.

[2886] III, 61.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 61.

[2887] Sloane 475 (olim Fr. Bernard 116), 231 leaves, including two codices, one of the 12th century, which is also medical but with which we shall not deal at present, and the other of the 10th or 11th century and written in different hands. The MS is mutilated both at the beginning and the close.

[2887] Sloane 475 (formerly Fr. Bernard 116), 231 leaves, including two codices: one from the 12th century, which is also medical but won't be discussed here, and the other from the 10th or 11th century, written in different hands. The manuscript is damaged at both the beginning and the end.

Sloane 2839, 11th century, 112 leaves.

Sloane 2839, 11th century, 112 leaves.

[2888] Sloane 2839, fols, iv-3, “Liber Cirrurgium Cauterium Apollonii et Galieni.” James, Western MSS in Trinity College, Cambridge, III, 26-8, describes fifty drawings, chiefly of surgical operations, in MS 1044, early 13th century. By that date cauterization seems to have become less common.

[2888] Sloane 2839, fols, iv-3, “Liber Cirrurgium Cauterium Apollonii et Galieni.” James, Western MSS in Trinity College, Cambridge, III, 26-8, describes fifty drawings, mostly of surgical procedures, in MS 1044, early 13th century. By that time, cauterization appears to have become less common.

[2889] Professor T. W. Todd thinks that I am too severe upon the practice of cauterization, and that it may sometimes have served as a counter-irritant like mustard plasters and the blister.

[2889] Professor T. W. Todd believes that I am too harsh on the practice of cauterization, arguing that it might sometimes have acted as a counter-irritant, similar to mustard plasters and blisters.

[2890] Sloane, 2839, fols. 79v-80v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sloane, 2839, pp. 79-80.

[2891] “Ad stomachum ubi ferro operare non oportes sansugias apponas.”

[2891] “When working on the stomach with iron, you should not apply blood.”

[2892] Imbrocare. I have not discovered exactly what it means.

[2892] Imbrocare. I haven't figured out exactly what it means.

[2893] Sloane 475, fol. 224r; Sloane 2839, fol. 97r.

[2893] Sloane 475, fol. 224r; Sloane 2839, fol. 97r.

[2894] Sloane 475, fol. 133, et seq.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sloane 475, fol. 133, and following.

[2895] Sloane 475, fol. 224v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sloane 475, fol. 224v.

[2896] Sloane 475, fols. 1-124. At fol. 36r occurs the familiar pseudo-letter of Hippocrates to Antigonus; at fols. 8v-10r is a passage almost identical with that at the close of the De medicamentis of Marcellus, 1889, p. 382; an incantation from Marcellus is repeated at fol. 117v. At fol. 37r we read “Explicit Liber II. Incipit Liber Tertius ad ventris rigiditatem”; at fol. 60r, “Explicit liber tertius. Incipit Liber IIII”; at fol. 85r, “Incipit Liber V.”

[2896] Sloane 475, fols. 1-124. On fol. 36r, there’s the well-known fake letter from Hippocrates to Antigonus; on fols. 8v-10r, there's a passage almost identical to the one at the end of the De medicamentis by Marcellus, 1889, p. 382; an incantation from Marcellus is repeated on fol. 117v. On fol. 37r, we read “End of Book II. Beginning of Book III on rigidity of the abdomen”; on fol. 60r, “End of Book III. Beginning of Book IV”; on fol. 85r, “Beginning of Book V.”

[2897] See fol. 110r, “Cros, oros, comigeos, delig(c)ros, falicros, spolicros, splena mihi”; and fol. 114r, “Opas, nolipas, opium, nolimpium.” Those who delight in ciphers will perhaps detect in the latter incantation a hidden allusion to opiates.

[2897] See fol. 110r, “Cros, oros, comigeos, delig(c)ros, falicros, spolicros, splena mihi”; and fol. 114r, “Opas, nolipas, opium, nolimpium.” Those who enjoy ciphers might find a hidden reference to opiates in the latter incantation.

[2898] Fol. 117v; see Marcellus (1889), p. 123, cap. 12.

[2898] Fol. 117v; see Marcellus (1889), p. 123, cap. 12.

[2899] Fol. 111r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fol. 111r.

[2900] Fol. 111v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Page 111v.

[2901] BN nouv. acq. 229, fol. 7v (once p. 246), “nomina septem sanctorum germanorum dormientium que sunt hec, Maximianus, Malchus, Martinianus, Constantinus, Dionisius, Iohannes, Serapion.”

[2901] BN nouv. acq. 229, fol. 7v (once p. 246), “the names of the seven sleeping German saints are these: Maximianus, Malchus, Martinianus, Constantinus, Dionisius, Iohannes, Serapion.”

[2902] Sloane 475, fol. 122v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sloane 475, fol. 122v.

[2903] “Ellum super ellam sedebat et virgam viridem in manu tenebat et dicebat, Virgam viridis reunitere in simul.”

[2903] “He was sitting over her, holding a green staff in his hand and saying, 'The green staff will reunite us together.'”

[2904] Sloane 475, fol. 112v. Unintelligible letters follow.

[2904] Sloane 475, fol. 112v. Unintelligible letters follow.

[2905] Egerton 821, 12th century, fols. 52v-60v.

[2905] Egerton 821, 12th century, fols. 52v-60v.

[2906] Ibid., fol. 53v, vultilis, which I assume should be vulturis rather than vituli, or bull-calf.

[2906] Ibid., fol. 53v, vultilis, which I think should be vulturis instead of vituli, or bull-calf.

[2907] Egerton 821, fol. 57.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Egerton 821, p. 57.

[2908] Ibid., fol. 58v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., fol. 58v.

[2909] Ibid., fol. 60r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same here., fol. 60r.

[2910] BN 7028, 11th century, fols. 136v, 140-3, 154r, and 156r.

[2910] BN 7028, 11th century, fols. 136v, 140-3, 154r, and 156r.

[2911] BN nouv. acq. 229, 12th century, fols. 1r-10r (once pp. 233-51), opening, “Rationem observationis vestre pietati secundum precepta doctorum medicinalium ut potui....”

[2911] BN nouv. acq. 229, 12th century, fols. 1r-10r (once pp. 233-51), opening, “The reason for your observation of piety according to the teachings of medical experts as best I could....”

[2912] BN nouv. acq. 229, fol. 2r. March is treated first and February last, while a similar discussion later in the same work (fols. 8r-9r, Quid unoquoque mense utendum quidve vitandum sit) begins with January.

[2912] BN nouv. acq. 229, fol. 2r. March is discussed first and February last, while a similar conversation later in the same work (fols. 8r-9r, Quid unoquoque mense utendum quidve vitandum sit) starts with January.

[2913] BN nouv. acq. 229, fol. 7.

[2913] BN nouv. acq. 229, fol. 7.

[2914] Fol. 6r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fol. 6r.

[2915] Fol. 4v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fol. 4v.

[2916] Fols. 4v-5r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fols. 4v-5r.

[2917] Fol. 7r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pg. 7r.

[2918] Fol. 7r-v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pg. 7r-v.

[2919] Fol. 7v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pg. 7v.

[2920] Fol. 9v.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Pg. 9v.

[2921] What is known of the School of Salerno has already been briefly indicated in English by H. Rashdall, Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages, 1895, I, 75-86, and T. Puschmann, History of Medical Education, English translation, London, 1891, pp. 197-211. The standard work on the subject is Salvatore De Renzi, Collectio Salernitana, in Italian with Latin texts, published at Naples in five volumes from 1852 to 1859. It contains a history of the School of Salerno by Renzi and various texts brought to light and dissertations discussing them by Renzi, Daremberg, Henschel, and others.

[2921] What we know about the School of Salerno has already been briefly mentioned in English by H. Rashdall, Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages, 1895, I, 75-86, and T. Puschmann, History of Medical Education, English translation, London, 1891, pp. 197-211. The definitive work on the topic is Salvatore De Renzi's Collectio Salernitana, published in Italian with Latin texts, released in five volumes in Naples from 1852 to 1859. It includes a history of the School of Salerno by Renzi along with various texts and dissertations discussing them by Renzi, Daremberg, Henschel, and others.

Unfortunately this publication proceeded by the unsystematic piecemeal and hand-to-mouth method, and new texts and discoveries were brought to the editor’s attention during the process, so that the history of the school and the texts in the earlier volumes have to be supplemented and corrected by the fuller versions and dissertations in the later volumes. It is too bad that all the materials could not have been collected and more systematically arranged and collated before publication. Also some of the texts printed have but the remotest connection with Salerno, while others have nothing to do with medicine.

Unfortunately, this publication was created in a disorganized, patchwork manner, relying on whatever information was available at the moment. New texts and discoveries came to the editor's attention throughout the process, meaning that the history of the school and the texts in the earlier volumes need to be updated and corrected by the more complete versions and dissertations found in the later volumes. It's a shame that all the materials couldn't have been gathered and arranged more systematically before publication. Additionally, some of the printed texts have only a vague connection to Salerno, while others are unrelated to medicine altogether.

To this collection of materials some further additions have been made by P. Giacosa, Magistri Salernitani nondum editi, Turin, 1901.

To this collection of materials, some additional contributions have been made by P. Giacosa, Magistri Salernitani nondum editi, Turin, 1901.

For further bibliography see in the recent reprint of Harrington’s English translation, The School of Salerno (1920), pp. 50-52.

For more references, check the recent reprint of Harrington's English translation, The School of Salerno (1920), pp. 50-52.

[2922] Notably Daremberg.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Notably Daremberg.

[2923] II, 59 (MG. SS. III, 600).

[2923] II, 59 (MG. SS. III, 600).

[2924] S. de Renzi, Collectio Salernitana, IV, 185, Practica Petroncelli, perhaps from an imperfect copy; IV, 315, Sulle opere che vanno sotto il nome di Petroncello. Heeg, Pseudodemocrit. Studien, in Abhandl. d. Berl. Akad. (1913), p. 42, shows that what Renzi printed tentatively as the table of contents and an extract from the third book of the Practica, is not by Petrocellus but by the Pseudo-Democritus, and that one MS of it dates from the ninth or tenth century.

[2924] S. de Renzi, Collectio Salernitana, IV, 185, Practica Petroncelli, possibly from an incomplete copy; IV, 315, On the works attributed to Petroncello. Heeg, Pseudodemocrit. Studien, in Abhandl. d. Berl. Akad. (1913), p. 42, demonstrates that what Renzi published tentatively as the table of contents and an excerpt from the third book of the Practica, is actually not by Petrocellus but by the Pseudo-Democritus, and that one manuscript of it dates back to the ninth or tenth century.

[2925] Petrocellus, Περὶ διδάξεων, Eine Sammlung von Rezepten in englischer Sprache aus dem 11-12 Jahrhundert. Nach einer Handschrift des Britischen Museums herausg. v. M. Löweneck (in Anglo-Saxon and Latin), 1896, pp. viii, 57, Heft 12 in Erlanger Beiträge z. englischen Philologie. The treatise perhaps also contains selections from the Passionarius of Gariopontus. It had been published before in Cockayne, Anglo-Saxon Leechdoms, 1864-1866, III, 82-143.

[2925] Petrocellus, On Teachings, A collection of recipes in English from the 11th-12th century. Based on a manuscript from the British Museum edited by M. Löweneck (in Anglo-Saxon and Latin), 1896, pp. viii, 57, Issue 12 in Erlanger Contributions to English Philology. The treatise may also include selections from the Passionarius of Gariopontus. It was previously published in Cockayne, Anglo-Saxon Leechdoms, 1864-1866, III, 82-143.

[2926] Payne (1904), pp. 155-6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Payne (1904), pp. 155-6.

[2927] Ibid., p. 148.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 148.

[2928] The Latin text reads, “liver of a hedgehog,” and doubtless either would be equally efficacious.

[2928] The Latin text says, “liver of a hedgehog,” and it’s clear that either one would work just as well.

[2929] Quoted by Payne (1904), p. 152, from Cockayne’s translation.

[2929] Quoted by Payne (1904), p. 152, from Cockayne’s translation.

[2930] Renzi (1852-9), IV, 185.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Renzi (1852-9), IV, 185.

[2931] Renzi, IV, 190, “Propterea fili karissime cum diuturno tempore de medicina tractassemus omnipotentis Dei nutu admonitus placuit ut ex grecis locis sectantes auctores omnium causarum dogmata in breviloquium latino sermone conscriberemus.”

[2931] Renzi, IV, 190, “Therefore, dear son, after we have long discussed medicine, I felt it was right, guided by the will of Almighty God, to compile the teachings of the Greek authors on the principles of all causes into a brief Latin text.”

[2932] For the two passages on epilepsy see Renzi, IV, pp. 235 and 293.

[2932] For the two sections on epilepsy, check Renzi, IV, pp. 235 and 293.

[2933] Renzi, I, 417-516, Flos medicinae, a text of 2130 lines; V, 1-104, the fuller text of 3526 lines; 113-72, Notice bibliographique; 385-406, Notes choisies de M. Baudry de Balzac au Flos Sanitatis.

[2933] Renzi, I, 417-516, Flos medicinae, a text of 2,130 lines; V, 1-104, the complete text of 3,526 lines; 113-72, Bibliographic notice; 385-406, Selected notes from M. Baudry de Balzac on Flos Sanitatis.

[2934] “Anglorum Regi scribit Schola tota Salerni.” Some MSS have Francorum or Roberto instead of Anglorum.

[2934] “The whole School of Salerno writes to the King of the English.” Some manuscripts have Francorum or Roberto instead of Anglorum.

[2935] Lines 2692-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lines 2692-3.

[2936] K. Sudhoff, Zum Regimen Sanitatis Salernitanum, in Archiv f. Gesch. d. Medizin, VII (1914), 360, and IX (1915-1916), 1-9.

[2936] K. Sudhoff, On the Regimen of Salernitan Health, in Archives for the History of Medicine, VII (1914), 360, and IX (1915-1916), 1-9.

[2937] Arnald de Villanova, Opera, Lyons, 1532, fol. 147v.

[2937] Arnald de Villanova, Opera, Lyons, 1532, fol. 147v.

[2938] Lines 1918-9, 1932-3, 1973-4, 1985, in Renzi’s first text of 2130 lines; in the fuller version they are somewhat more widely separated: lines 3053, 3130, 3227, 3267.

[2938] Lines 1918-9, 1932-3, 1973-4, 1985, in Renzi’s first text of 2130 lines; in the fuller version they are somewhat more widely separated: lines 3053, 3130, 3227, 3267.

[2939] Lines 1845-55 or 2873-83.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lines 1845-55 or 2873-83.

[2940] Renzi, V, 377-8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Renzi, V, 377-8.

[2941] Ibid., 372-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 372-3.

[2942] Ibid., 379-81.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 379-81.

[2943] Ibid., 350.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., 350.

[2944] Professor T. Wingate Todd comments upon this passage: “Of course this is post hoc propter hoc, but it is the typical history of a case of Bell’s palsy occurring after a ‘chill.’”

[2944] Professor T. Wingate Todd comments on this passage: “Of course, this is post hoc propter hoc, but it's the typical pattern for a case of Bell’s palsy happening after a ‘chill.’”

[2945] Renzi, V, 371, “Involuntariam urine emissionem quidam patiebantur et adhuc multi patiuntur et maxime servi et ancille qui male induti et discalciati incedunt, unde frigiditate incensa vesica fit quasi paralitica cum urinam nequeat continere.”

[2945] Renzi, V, 371, “Some people suffered from involuntary urine release, and many still do, especially servants and maids who walk around poorly dressed and barefoot, which causes their bladder to become overactive and unable to hold urine due to the cold.”

[2946] Giacosa (1901), pp. 71-166.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Giacosa (1901), pp. 71-166.

[2947] Giacosa (1901), p. 146.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Giacosa (1901), p. 146.

[2948] Ibid., p. 145.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 145.

[2949] Renzi, V, 331-2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Renzi, V, 331-2.

[2950] Many of the works listed by Peter the Deacon and some others which he does not name have been printed under Constantinus’ name, either in the edition of the works of Isaac issued at Lyons in 1515, or in the partial edition of the works of Constantinus printed at Basel in 1536 and 1539, or in an edition of Albucasis published at Basel in 1541.

[2950] Many of the works mentioned by Peter the Deacon and a few others he doesn't name have been published under Constantinus' name, either in the edition of Isaac's works released in Lyons in 1515, or in the partial edition of Constantinus' works printed in Basel in 1536 and 1539, or in an edition of Albucasis published in Basel in 1541.

An early MS containing several of Constantinus’ works is Gonville and Caius 411, 12-13th century, fol. 1-, Viaticum, 69-de melancholia, 77v-de stomacho, 98v-de oblivione, 100r-de coitu, (no author is named for 109v-liber elefantie, 113-de modo medendi), 121-liber febrium, (169-de inamidarium Galieni).

An early manuscript that includes several of Constantinus’ works is Gonville and Caius 411, from the 12th or 13th century, fol. 1-, Viaticum, 69-on melancholia, 77v-on stomach issues, 98v-on forgetfulness, 100r-on intercourse, (no author is mentioned for 109v-book of elephants, 113-on the method of healing), 121-book of fevers, (169-on the Galen's inamidarium).

The chief secondary investigations concerning Constantinus Africanus are:

The main secondary studies about Constantinus Africanus are:

Daremberg, Notices et Extraits des Manuscrits Médicaux, 1853, pp. 63-100, “Recherches sur un ouvrage qui a pour titre Zad el-Monçafir en arabe, Ephrodes en grec, Viatique en latin, et qui est attribué dans les textes arabes et grecs à Abou Djafar, et dans le texte latin à Constantin.”

Daremberg, Notices et Extraits des Manuscrits Médicaux, 1853, pp. 63-100, “Research on a work titled Zad el-Monçafir in Arabic, Ephrodes in Greek, Viatique in Latin, and attributed in Arabic and Greek texts to Abou Djafar, and in the Latin text to Constantin.”

Puccinotti, Storia della Medicina, II, i, pp. 292-350, 1855, devoted several chapters to Constantinus and tried to defend him from the charge of plagiarism and to maintain that the Viaticum and some other works were original.

Puccinotti, Storia della Medicina, II, i, pp. 292-350, 1855, dedicated several chapters to Constantinus and attempted to clear him of the accusation of plagiarism, arguing that the Viaticum and some of his other works were original.

Steinschneider, Constantinus Africanus und seine arabischen Quellen, in Virchow’s Archiv für Pathologische Anatomie, etc., Berlin, 1866, vol. 37, pp. 351-410. This should be supplemented by pp. 9-12 of his Die europäischen Übersetzungen aus dem Arabischen (1905).

Steinschneider, Constantinus Africanus und seine arabischen Quellen, in Virchow’s Archiv für Pathologische Anatomie, etc., Berlin, 1866, vol. 37, pp. 351-410. This should be supplemented by pp. 9-12 of his Die europäischen Übersetzungen aus dem Arabischen (1905).

[2951] Notices et Extraits des Manuscrits Médicaux (1853), p. 86.

[2951] Notices and Excerpts from Medical Manuscripts (1853), p. 86.

[2952] Histoire des Sciences Médicales (1870), I, 261.

[2952] History of Medical Sciences (1870), I, 261.

[2953] Indeed Daremberg said in 1853 (p. 85, note) “dans le moyen âge beaucoup d’auteurs citent volontiers Constantine comme une autorité.”

[2953] Indeed, Daremberg said in 1853 (p. 85, note) "in the Middle Ages, many authors eagerly cited Constantine as an authority."

[2954] Perhaps through the fault of the printer the list of the writings of Constantinus given by Peter the Deacon is defective as reproduced in tabular form by Steinschneider (1866), pp. 353-4. Steinschneider also incorrectly speaks of Leo of Ostia as well as Peter the Deacon as a source for Constantinus (p. 352, “Die Schriften Constantins sind bekanntlich von seinen alten Biographen, Petrus Diaconus und Leo Ostiensis verzeichnet worden”), since Leo’s portion of the Chronicle ends before Constantinus is mentioned.

[2954] It seems that due to a mistake by the printer, the list of writings by Constantinus provided by Peter the Deacon is incomplete as shown in the table by Steinschneider (1866), pp. 353-4. Steinschneider also mistakenly refers to Leo of Ostia and Peter the Deacon as sources for Constantinus (p. 352, “Die Schriften Constantins sind bekanntlich von seinen alten Biographen, Petrus Diaconus und Leo Ostiensis verzeichnet worden”), since Leo's part of the Chronicle ends before Constantinus is mentioned.

[2955] Peter was born about 1107 and was placed in the monastery of Monte Cassino by his parents in 1115. He became librarian. Monumenta Germaniae, Scriptores, VII, 562 and 565.

[2955] Peter was born around 1107 and was sent to the monastery of Monte Cassino by his parents in 1115. He became the librarian. Monumenta Germaniae, Scriptores, VII, 562 and 565.

[2956] Chronica Mon. Casinensis, Lib. III, auctore Petro, MG. SS. VII, 728-9; Muratori, Scriptores, IV, 455-6 (lib. III, cap. 35).

[2956] Chronica Mon. Casinensis, Book III, by Peter, MG. SS. VII, 728-9; Muratori, Scriptores, IV, 455-6 (Book III, Chapter 35).

[2957] Petri Diaconi De viribus illustribus Casinensibus, cap. 23, in Fabricius, Bibl. Graec., XIII, 123.

[2957] Petri Diaconi De viribus illustribus Casinensibus, ch. 23, in Fabricius, Bibl. Graec., XIII, 123.

[2958] Yet modern compilers and writers of encyclopedia articles invariably repeat “Carthage” and “Babylon.”

[2958] Yet today’s compilers and encyclopedia authors consistently mention “Carthage” and “Babylon.”

[2959] BN 14700, fol. 171v, cited by Baur (1903), who also notes parallel passages in Al-Gazel, Phil. tr. I, 1; and Avicenna, De divis. philos., fol. 141.

[2959] BN 14700, fol. 171v, cited by Baur (1903), who also notes parallel passages in Al-Ghazali, Phil. tr. I, 1; and Avicenna, De divis. philos., fol. 141.

[2960] Gundissalinus and Daniel Morley. Al-Farabi’s list of eight mathematical sciences, including “the science of spirits,” was also reproduced by Vincent of Beauvais in the thirteenth century, Speculum doctrinale, XVI.

[2960] Gundissalinus and Daniel Morley. Al-Farabi’s list of eight mathematical sciences, including “the science of spirits,” was also reproduced by Vincent of Beauvais in the thirteenth century, Speculum doctrinale, XVI.

[2961] Possibly there is some confusion with Galen’s similar experience with the physicians of Rome, which Constantinus may have reproduced in some one of his translations of Galen in such a way as to lead the reader to consider it his own experience.

[2961] There might be some confusion with Galen’s similar experience with the doctors in Rome, which Constantinus may have adapted in one of his translations of Galen, leading the reader to think it was his own experience.

[2962] The words are the same both in the Chronicle and Illustrious Men: “quem cum vidissent Afri ita ad plenum omnibus (omnium?) gentium eruditum, cogitaverunt occidere eum.”

[2962] The words are the same in both the Chronicle and Illustrious Men: “When the Africans saw him as someone fully educated in all the nations, they decided to kill him.”

[2963] Pagel (1902), p. 644, “Vorher soll er kurze Zeit noch in Reggio, einer kleinen Stadt in der Nähe von Byzanz, als Protosekretär des Kaisers Constantinos Monomachos sich aufgehalten und das Reisehandbuch des Abu Dschafer übersetzt haben.” But Pagel gives no source for this statement.

[2963] Pagel (1902), p. 644, “Before that, he was in Reggio, a small town near Byzantium, serving as the chief secretary of Emperor Constantinos Monomachos, and translated the travel guide of Abu Dschafer.” But Pagel does not provide a source for this statement.

Apparently the notion is due to the fact that a Greek treatise entitled Ephodia, of which there are numerous MSS and which seems to be a translation of the same Arabic work as that upon which Constantinus based his Viaticum, speaks of a Constantine as its author who was proto-secretary and lived at Reggio or Rhegium.

Apparently, the idea comes from the fact that a Greek treatise called Ephodia, of which there are many manuscripts and which seems to be a translation of the same Arabic work that Constantinus used for his Viaticum, mentions a Constantine as its author who was the proto-secretary and lived in Reggio or Rhegium.

Daremberg (1853), p. 77, held that a Vatican MS of the Ephodia was of the tenth century and therefore this Greek translation could not be the work of Constantinus Africanus in the next century, but Steinschneider (1866), p. 392, only says, “Die griechische Uebersetzung des Viaticum soll bis in die Zeit Constantins hinaufreichen.”

Daremberg (1853), p. 77, argued that a Vatican manuscript of the Ephodia dated back to the tenth century, meaning this Greek translation couldn't have been done by Constantinus Africanus in the following century. However, Steinschneider (1866), p. 392, simply states, “Die griechische Uebersetzung des Viaticum soll bis in die Zeit Constantins hinaufreichen.”

Another MS, Escorial &-II-9, 16th century, fol. 1-, contains a “Commeatus Peregrinantium” whose author is called “Ebrubat Zafar filio Elbazar,” which perhaps designates Abu Jafar Ahmed Ibn-al-Jezzar, whom Daremberg and Steinschneider call the author of the Arabic original of the Viaticum. The work is said to have been translated into Greek “a Constantino Primo a secretis Regis,” which suggests that Constantinus was perhaps first of the royal secretaries rather than of Reggio either in Norman Italy or near Byzantium. The translation from Greek into Latin is ascribed to Antonius Eparchus. The opening sentences of each book of this Latin version from the Greek by Eparchus differ in wording but agree in substance with those of the Viaticum of Constantinus Africanus, if we omit some transitional sentences in the latter.

Another MS, Escorial &-II-9, 16th century, fol. 1-, contains a “Commeatus Peregrinantium” whose author is referred to as “Ebrubat Zafar filio Elbazar,” which might indicate Abu Jafar Ahmed Ibn-al-Jezzar, whom Daremberg and Steinschneider identify as the author of the Arabic original of the Viaticum. The work is said to have been translated into Greek “by Constantinus Primo a secretis Regis,” which suggests that Constantinus was likely the first of the royal secretaries rather than from Reggio in either Norman Italy or near Byzantium. The translation from Greek into Latin is credited to Antonius Eparchus. The opening sentences of each book of this Latin version from the Greek by Eparchus differ in wording but agree in substance with those of the Viaticum of Constantinus Africanus, if we set aside some transitional sentences in the latter.

[2964] Opera (1536), p. 215.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Opera (1536), p. 215.

[2965] De animalibus, XXII, i, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On Animals, XXII, i, 1.

[2966] Rawlinson C, 328, fol. 3. It is accompanied by the legend, “This is Constantinus, monk of Monte Cassino, who is as it were the fount of that science of long standing from the judgment of urines, and it has exhibited a true cure in all the diseases in this book and in many other books. To whom come women with urine that he may tell them what is the cause of the disease.” The illumination shows Constantinus seated, holding a book on his knees with his left hand, while he raises his right hand and forefinger in didactic style. He wears the tonsure, has a beard but no mustache, and seems to be approached by one woman and two men carrying two jars of urine.

[2966] Rawlinson C, 328, fol. 3. It is accompanied by the caption, "This is Constantinus, a monk from Monte Cassino, who is essentially the source of that long-standing practice of urine analysis, and he has provided true cures for all the diseases mentioned in this book and many others. Women come to him with samples of urine so he can determine the cause of their ailments." The illustration depicts Constantinus seated, holding a book on his lap with his left hand, while he raises his right hand and forefinger in a teaching gesture. He has a tonsure, a beard but no mustache, and appears to be approached by one woman and two men carrying two jars of urine.

[2967] See Margoliouth, Avicenna, 1913, p. 49.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Margoliouth, Avicenna, 1913, p. 49.

[2968] Only the ten books of theory are printed in the 1539 edition of Constantinus.

[2968] Only the ten books of theory are printed in the 1539 edition of Constantinus.

[2969] Chirurgia, at pp. 324-41.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Chirurgia, pp. 324-41.

[2970] Opera omnia ysaac (1515), fol. 126v, “Liber decimus practice qui antidotarium dicitur in duas divisus partes.”

[2970] Complete Works of Isaac (1515), fol. 126v, “The Tenth Book of Practical Medicine, called the Antidotarium, divided into two parts.”

Isaac Israeli is the subject of the first chapter in Husik (1916), who calls him (p. 2) “the first Jew, so far as we know, to devote himself to philosophical and scientific discussions.”

Isaac Israeli is the focus of the first chapter in Husik (1916), who refers to him (p. 2) as “the first Jew, as far as we know, to dedicate himself to philosophical and scientific discussions.”

[2971] Daremberg (1853), pp. 82-5, gives the prefaces of Ali and Constantinus in parallel columns.

[2971] Daremberg (1853), pp. 82-5, provides the prefaces of Ali and Constantinus in side-by-side columns.

[2972] Printed in 1492 with the works of Ali ben Abbas; Stephen’s translation was made at Antioch in Syria.

[2972] Printed in 1492 along with the works of Ali ben Abbas; Stephen's translation was completed in Antioch, Syria.

[2973] Steinschneider (1866), p. 359.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Steinschneider (1866), p. 359.

[2974] “Ultimam et maiorem deesse sensi partem, alteram vero interpretis callida depravatam fraude.”

[2974] “I felt that the last and greatest part was missing, while the other was cleverly distorted by the interpreter's deceit.”

[2975] Amplon. Octavo 62.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Amplon. Volume 62.

[2976] In his gloss to the Viaticum of Constantinus.

[2976] In his commentary on the Viaticum of Constantinus.

[2977] Berlin HSS Verzeichnis (1905), pp. 1059-65, to whom I owe the preceding references to Ferrarius and Giraldus.

[2977] Berlin HSS Verzeichnis (1905), pp. 1059-65, to whom I owe the earlier references to Ferrarius and Giraldus.

[2978] Rose cites Bamberg L-iii-9. The two following MSS are perhaps also worth noting: The Pantegni as contained in CU Trinity 906, 12th century, finely written, fols. 1-141v, comprises only ten books. The first opens, “Cum totius generalitas tres principales partes habeat”; the tenth ends, “Unde acutum oportet habere sensum ad intelligendum. Explicit.”

[2978] Rose cites Bamberg L-iii-9. The two following manuscripts are also worth noting: The Pantegni found in CU Trinity 906, 12th century, beautifully written, pages 1-141v, has only ten books. The first starts with, “Since the entire generality has three main parts”; the tenth concludes with, “Hence, one must have sharp perception to understand. The end.”

St. John’s 85, close of 13th century, “Constantini africani Pantegnus in duas partes divisus quarum prima dicitur Theorica continens decem libros secunda dicitur Practica 33 capita continens,” as a table of contents written in on the fly-leaf states. The ten books of theory end at fol. 100r, “Explicit prima pars pantegni scilicet de theorica. Incipit secunda pars scilicet practica et est primus liber de regimento sanitatis.” This single book in 33 chapters on the preservation of health ends at fol. 116v, and at fol. 117r begins the Liber divisionum of Rasis.

St. John’s 85, late 13th century, “Constantini africani Pantegnus divided into two parts, the first part called Theorica, containing ten books; the second called Practica, containing 33 chapters,” as stated in the table of contents written on the flyleaf. The ten books of theory end at fol. 100r, “Explicit prima pars pantegni that is, about the theorica. Incipit secunda pars, that is, practica and is the first book on health management.” This single book in 33 chapters on health preservation ends at fol. 116v, and at fol. 117r begins the Liber divisionum of Rasis.

[2979] In Berlin 898, a 12th century MS of Stephen’s translation of Ali’s Practica, this ninth section by Constantinus and John is for some reason substituted for the corresponding book of Stephen.

[2979] In Berlin 898, a 12th century manuscript of Stephen’s translation of Ali’s Practica, this ninth section by Constantinus and John is inexplicably included instead of the corresponding book by Stephen.

[2980] He calls himself, “iohannes quidam agarenus (Saracenus?) quondam, qui noviter ad fidem christiane religionis venerat cum rustico pisano belle filius ac professione medicus.”

[2980] He refers to himself as, “Johannes, a certain Agarenes (Saracens?) who recently came to the faith of the Christian religion with a rustic from Pisa, a handsome son, and by profession a doctor.”

[2981] The main objection to this theory is that Stephen of Pisa, translating in 1127, speaks as if the latter portion of Ali’s work was still untranslated. Rose therefore holds that John had not yet published his translation, although we have seen that he completed the surgical section by 1115.

[2981] The main criticism of this theory is that Stephen of Pisa, translating in 1127, suggests that the later part of Ali’s work was still not translated. Therefore, Rose argues that John hadn’t published his translation yet, even though we’ve noted that he finished the surgical section by 1115.

[2982] In Opera omnia ysaac, Lyons, 1515, II, fols. 144-72, “Viaticum ysaac quod constantinus sibi attribuit”; in the Basel, 1536, edition of the works of Constantinus, pp. 1-167, under the title, “De morborum cognitione et curatione lib. vii”; in the Venice, 1505, edition of Gerardus de Solo (Bituricensis), “Commentum eiusdem super viatico cum textu”; and in the Lyons, 1511, edition of Rhazes, Opera parva Albubetri.

[2982] In Opera omnia ysaac, Lyons, 1515, II, fols. 144-72, “Viaticum ysaac quod constantinus sibi attribuit”; in the Basel, 1536, edition of the works of Constantinus, pp. 1-167, under the title, “De morborum cognitione et curatione lib. vii”; in the Venice, 1505, edition of Gerardus de Solo (Bituricensis), “Commentum eiusdem super viatico cum textu”; and in the Lyons, 1511, edition of Rhazes, Opera parva Albubetri.

A fairly early but imperfect MS is CU Trinity 1064, 12-13th century.

A somewhat early but flawed manuscript is CU Trinity 1064, from the 12th to 13th century.

Laud. Misc. 567, late 12th century, fol. 2, recognizes in its Titulus that the Viaticum is a translation, “Incipit Viaticum a Constantino in Latinam linguam translatam.”

Laud. Misc. 567, late 12th century, fol. 2, acknowledges in its title that the Viaticum is a translation, “Incipit Viaticum a Constantino in Latinam linguam translatam.”

[2983] Steinschneider (1866), 368-9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Steinschneider (1866), 368-9.

[2984] See above, page 745, note 2.

[2984] See above, page 745, note 2.

[2985] In the 1515 edition of Isaac’s works, I, 11-, 156-, and 203-. Peter the Deacon presumably refers to these three works in speaking of “Dietam ciborum. Librum febrium quem de Arabica lingua transtulit. Librum de urinis.” Whether the two initial treatises in the 1515 edition of Isaac, dealing with definitions and the elements, were translated by Constantinus or by Gerard of Cremona is doubtful.

[2985] In the 1515 edition of Isaac’s works, I, 11-, 156-, and 203-. Peter the Deacon likely refers to these three works when he mentions “Dietam ciborum. Librum febrium quem de Arabica lingua transtulit. Librum de urinis.” It's uncertain whether the first two treatises in the 1515 edition of Isaac, which cover definitions and the elements, were translated by Constantinus or by Gerard of Cremona.

[2986] See CLM 187, fol. 8; 168, fol. 23; 161, fol. 41; 270, fol. 10; 13034, fol. 49, for 13-14th century copies of Galen’s commentary upon the Aphorisms of Hippocrates with a preface by Constantinus.

[2986] See CLM 187, fol. 8; 168, fol. 23; 161, fol. 41; 270, fol. 10; 13034, fol. 49, for 13th-14th century copies of Galen’s commentary on the Aphorisms of Hippocrates with a preface by Constantinus.

University College Oxford 89, early 14th century, fol. 90, Incipiunt amphorismi Ypocratis cum commento domini Constantini Affricani montis Cassienensis monachi; fol. 155, Eiusdem Prognostica cum Galeni commento, eodem interprete; fols. 203-61, Eiusdem liber de regimine acutorum cum eiusdem commento eodem interprete.

University College Oxford 89, early 14th century, fol. 90, Here begin the aphorisms of Hippocrates with the commentary of Lord Constantine, a monk from Mount Cassio; fol. 155, The same's Prognostics with Galen's commentary, by the same interpreter; fols. 203-61, The same's book on the management of acute diseases with the same commentary by the same interpreter.

[2987] De viris illustribus, cap. 23, “ ... transtulit de diversis gentium linguis libros quamplurimos in quibus praecipue ...”: Chronica, Lib. III, “ ... transtulit de diversorum gentium linguis libros quamplurimos in quibus sunt hi praecipue....”

[2987] De viris illustribus, cap. 23, “ ... translated many books from various languages of different nations, especially ...”: Chronica, Lib. III, “ ... translated many books from the languages of different nations, which include these especially....”

[2988] “Librum duodecim graduum” in De viris illus.: in the Chronicle, “Liber graduum.”

[2988] “Book of the Twelve Degrees” in On Notable Men.: in the Chronicle, “Book of Degrees.”

[2989] Edition of Basel, 1536, at pp. 280-98 and 215-74 respectively.

[2989] Edition of Basel, 1536, at pp. 280-98 and 215-74 respectively.

[2990] It is found in Laud. Misc. 567, late 12th century, fol. 51v.

[2990] It is found in Laud. Misc. 567, late 12th century, fol. 51v.

[2991] Edition of 1536, pp. 283-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Edition of 1536, pp. 283-4.

[2992] See below, Chapter 64.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Chapter 64 below.

[2993] Zeitsch. f. klass. Philol. (1896), pp. 1098ff.

[2993] Journal of Classical Philology (1896), pp. 1098ff.

[2994] J. A. Endres, Petrus Damiani und die weltliche Wissenschaft, 1910, p. 35, in Beiträge, VIII, 3.

[2994] J. A. Endres, Petrus Damiani and Secular Science, 1910, p. 35, in Contributions, VIII, 3.

[2995] James (1903), p. 59, “Tractatus Alfani Salernitanus de quibusdam questionibus medicinalibus.”

[2995] James (1903), p. 59, “Tractatus Alfani Salernitanus de quibusdam questionibus medicinalibus.”

[2996] CU Trinity 1365, early 12th century, fols. 155-162v, Experimenta archiep. Salernitani.

[2996] CU Trinity 1365, early 12th century, fols. 155-162v, Experimenta archiep. Salernitani.

[2997] Judging from its opening and closing words as given by James.

[2997] Based on its first and last words as stated by James.

[2998] De coitu, edition of 1536, p. 306.

[2998] On Sexual Union, edition of 1536, p. 306.

[2999] Viaticum, VI, 19.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Viaticum, VI, 19.

[3000] Practica, X, 1; in Isaac, Opera, 1515, II, fol. 126.

[3000] Practica, X, 1; in Isaac, Opera, 1515, II, fol. 126.

[3001] Ibid., VII, 31; fol. 111r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., VII, 31; fol. 111r.

[3002] Ibid., IV, 37; fol. 96r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., IV, 37; fol. 96r.

[3003] Ibid., V, 17; fol. 99r.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., V, 17; fol. 99r.

[3004] De melancholia (1536), p. 290.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ The Melancholy (1536), p. 290.

[3005] Practica, VIII, 40; ed. of 1515, fol. 118v.

[3005] Practica, VIII, 40; ed. of 1515, fol. 118v.

[3006] Practica, IV, 39, and V, 7; ed. of 1515, fols. 96r and 98r.

[3006] Practica, IV, 39, and V, 7; ed. of 1515, fols. 96r and 98r.

[3007] Ed. of 1536, p. 358; also in the Viaticum, I, 22; p. 20.

[3007] Ed. of 1536, p. 358; also in the Viaticum, I, 22; p. 20.

[3008] Viaticum, I, 22; p. 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Viaticum, I, 22; p. 21.

[3009] Viaticum, VII, 13: De gradibus (1536), p. 377.

[3009] Viaticum, VII, 13: De gradibus (1536), p. 377.

[3010] According to Steinschneider (1866), p. 402, it is only from the citations of Constantinus that we know of a work by Rufus on melancholy. See especially De melancholia (1536), p. 285, “Invenimus Rufum clarissimum medicum de melancholia fecisse librum....”

[3010] According to Steinschneider (1866), p. 402, we only know about a work by Rufus on melancholy from Constantinus's citations. See especially De melancholia (1536), p. 285, “We find that Rufus, a highly regarded physician, wrote a book on melancholy....”

[3011] De gradibus (1536), p. 378.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ On the Steps (1536), p. 378.

[3012] Edition of 1536, pp. 20, 290, 356.

[3012] Edition of 1536, pp. 20, 290, 356.

[3013] Theorica, X, 9; ed. of 1515, fol. 54.

[3013] Theorica, X, 9; ed. of 1515, fol. 54.

[3014] Practica, VII, 59 (1515), fol. 114v.

[3014] Practica, VII, 59 (1515), fol. 114v.

[3015] Ed. of 1541, pp. 319-21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Edition of 1541, pp. 319-21.

[3016] Spec. nat., XVI, 49.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Spec. nat., 16, 49.

[3017] De gradibus (1536), p. 360, “de quo Arabū (Aristotle?) in libro de lapidibus intitulato.”

[3017] De gradibus (1536), p. 360, “about which Arabū (Aristotle?) writes in the book titled 'On Stones.'”

[3018] Manoscritto Salernitano dilucidato dal Prof. Henschel, in Renzi (1853), II, 1-80, especially pp. 16, 41, 59.

[3018] Salernitan Manuscript Explained by Prof. Henschel, in Renzi (1853), II, 1-80, especially pp. 16, 41, 59.

[3019] De aegritudinum curatione tractatus, Renzi, II, 81-386; De febribus tractatus, II, 737-68.

[3019] On the Treatment of Illnesses, Renzi, II, 81-386; On Fevers, II, 737-68.

[3020] The preface to Constantinus’ translation of Isaac on fevers is addressed to his “dearest son, John”: see Brussels, Library of Dukes of Burgundy 15489, 14th century, “Quoniam te karissime fili Iohanne”; Cambrai 914, 13-14th century; Cambrai 907, 14th century, fol. 1, Prefatio Constantini ad Johannem discipulum.

[3020] The preface to Constantinus’ translation of Isaac on fevers is addressed to his “dear son, John”: see Brussels, Library of Dukes of Burgundy 15489, 14th century, “Since you are my dearest son, John”; Cambrai 914, 13-14th century; Cambrai 907, 14th century, fol. 1, Prefatio Constantini ad Johannem discipulum.

[3021] However, in an Oxford MS the Liber aureus itself is ascribed to “John, son of Constantinus”: Bodleian 2060, #1, Joannis filii Constantini de re medica liber aureus.

[3021] However, in an Oxford MS the Liber aureus is attributed to “John, son of Constantinus”: Bodleian 2060, #1, Joannis filii Constantini de re medica liber aureus.

[3022] Interest in such works was aroused by the almost simultaneous publication of R. Hendrie’s English translation of Theophilus, London, 1847; the publication of the Mappe clavicula in a “Letter from Sir Thomas Phillipps to Albert Way” in Archaeologia, XXXII, 183-244, London, 1847; and the inclusion of Heraclius, De coloribus et de artibus Romanorum, in Mrs. Merrifield’s Ancient Practice of Painting, London, 1849. Hendrie printed the Latin text of Theophilus with his translation. A. Ilg published a revised Latin text with a German translation in 1874, with a fuller account of the MSS.

[3022] Interest in these works was sparked by the nearly simultaneous release of R. Hendrie’s English translation of Theophilus, London, 1847; the publication of the Mappe clavicula in a “Letter from Sir Thomas Phillipps to Albert Way” in Archaeologia, XXXII, 183-244, London, 1847; and the inclusion of Heraclius, De coloribus et de artibus Romanorum, in Mrs. Merrifield’s Ancient Practice of Painting, London, 1849. Hendrie provided the Latin text of Theophilus alongside his translation. A. Ilg published a revised Latin text with a German translation in 1874, including a more detailed account of the manuscripts.

[3023] Merrifield (1849), I, 166-74.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Merrifield (1849), I, 166-74.

[3024] Berthelot (1893), I, 29. He dated, however, Robert of Chester’s translation of Morienus thirty-eight years too late in that century, mistaking the Spanish for the Christian era.

[3024] Berthelot (1893), I, 29. He miscalculated the date of Robert of Chester’s translation of Morienus by thirty-eight years, confusing the Spanish calendar with the Christian era.

[3025] Ibid., p. 18.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 18.

[3026] Berthelot (1893), I, 169.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1893), I, 169.

[3027] Merrifield (1849), I, 183. See also pp. 189-91.

[3027] Merrifield (1849), I, 183. See also pp. 189-91.

[3028] Ibid., p. 183, “Nil tibi scribo equidem quod non prius ipse probassem.”

[3028] Ibid., p. 183, “I’m not writing anything to you that I haven’t personally approved first.”

[3029] Ibid., p. 187.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., p. 187.

[3030] Traité des Arts Céramiques, p. 304, cited by Merrifield, I, 177. This is not, however, to be regarded as the invention of lead glazing, since, as William Burton writes (“Ceramics” in EB, p. 706), “lead glazes were extensively used in Egypt and the nearer East in Ptolemaic times.” He adds, “And it is significant that, though the Romans made singularly little use of glazes of any kind, the pottery that succeeded theirs, either in western Europe or in the Byzantine Empire, was generally covered with glazes rich in lead.”

[3030] Traité des Arts Céramiques, p. 304, cited by Merrifield, I, 177. However, this shouldn't be seen as the invention of lead glazing, since, as William Burton writes (“Ceramics” in EB, p. 706), “lead glazes were widely used in Egypt and the Near East during Ptolemaic times.” He adds, “It's noteworthy that, although the Romans used glazes very little, the pottery that followed theirs, whether in Western Europe or in the Byzantine Empire, was usually covered with lead-rich glazes.”

[3031] For these works see Berthelot (1893), III, or Lippmann (1919), who follows him. I have not had access to E. Wiedemann, Zur Chemie bei den Arabern, in Sitzungsberichte der physikalisch-medizinischen Societät in Erlangen, XLIII (1911); and his Die Alchemie bei den Arabern, in Journal für praktische Chemie, LXXVI (1907), 85-87, 105-23.

[3031] For these works, see Berthelot (1893), III, or Lippmann (1919), who cites him. I haven't had access to E. Wiedemann, Zur Chemie bei den Arabern, in Sitzungsberichte der physikalisch-medizinischen Societät in Erlangen, XLIII (1911); and his Die Alchemie bei den Arabern, in Journal für praktische Chemie, LXXVI (1907), 85-87, 105-23.

[3032] The full title is “Compositiones ad tingenda musiva, pelles et alia, ad deaurandum ferrum, ad mineralia, ad chrysographiam, ad glutina quaedam conficienda, aliaque artium documenta.” The MS, Bibliotheca capituli canonicorum Lucensium, Arm. I, Cod. L, was printed in Muratori, Antiquitates Italicae, II (1739), 364-87. It is described by Berthelot (1893), I, 7-22, whose comparison of it with previous treatises I follow.

[3032] The full title is “Compositions for Creating Mosaics, Tanning Skins and Other Materials, Gilding Iron, Working with Minerals, Creating Gold Writing, Making Certain Glues, and Other Art Techniques.” The manuscript, Bibliotheca Capituli Canonicorum Lucensium, Arm. I, Cod. L, was published in Muratori, Antiquitates Italicae, II (1739), pages 364-87. It is detailed by Berthelot (1893), I, pages 7-22, whose comparison of it with earlier works I am following.

[3033] Berthelot (1888), I, 12, note.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1888), I, 12, note.

[3034] Text and some discussion thereof in Archaeologia, XXXII (1847), 183-244. Analyzed by Berthelot (1893), I, 23-65. On the Schlestadt MS of the 10th century, see Giry in Bibliothèque de l’École des Hautes Études, XXXV (1878), 209-27.

[3034] Text and some discussion about it in Archaeologia, XXXII (1847), 183-244. Analyzed by Berthelot (1893), I, 23-65. For information on the Schlestadt manuscript from the 10th century, see Giry in Bibliothèque de l’École des Hautes Études, XXXV (1878), 209-27.

[3035] See recipes 105-93.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See recipes 105-93.

[3036] Berthelot (1893), I, 57.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1893), I, 57.

[3037] Ibid., 61. Others, however, would trace the discovery of alcohol back to Hippolytus. See above, p. 468.

[3037] Ibid., 61. Others, however, would trace the discovery of alcohol back to Hippolytus. See above, p. 468.

[3038] “Accipies ad experimentum donec primitus discas non multum cum semel facias.”

[3038] “You will learn through experience until you first understand that it doesn't take much once you do it once.”

[3039] “Absconde sanctum et nulli tradendum secretum neque alicui dederis propheta.”

[3039] “Keep the secret safe and don't share it with anyone or give it to any prophet.”

[3040] Berthelot (1893), I, 303-4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1893), I, 303-4.

[3041] Item 265.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Item 265.

[3042] Item 290.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Item 290.

[3043] Item 289.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Item 289.

[3044] De coloribus et artibus Romanorum, I, iv. I have somewhat altered Mrs. Merrifield’s translation (I, 186).

[3044] On the Colors and Arts of the Romans, I, iv. I've made some changes to Mrs. Merrifield's translation (I, 186).

[3045] Ibid., I, xi; Mrs. Merrifield (1849), I, 189-91.

[3045] Ibid., I, xi; Mrs. Merrifield (1849), I, 189-91.

[3046] Ibid., I, xii:

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., I, xii:

“Sed vim cristalli cruor antea temperet hirci
Sanguis enim facilem ferro facit his adamantem.”

Mrs. Merrifield (I, 194) has incorrectly rendered this passage, “But let the blood of a goat first temper it, for this blood makes the iron so hard that even adamant is soft compared to it.” What Heraclius says is,

Mrs. Merrifield (I, 194) has incorrectly interpreted this passage, “But let the blood of a goat first temper it, for this blood makes the iron so hard that even adamant is soft compared to it.” What Heraclius says is,

“But first let the blood of a he-goat temper the force of the crystal,
For this blood makes adamant soft to the iron.”

[3047] Schedula diversarum artium, III, 98.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Schedule of various arts, III, 98.

[3048] Ibid., III, 94.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., III, 94.

[3049] Ibid., III, 21.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source., III, 21.

[3050] Berthelot (1893), I, 63. His French translation omits some of the Latin text as published in Archaeologia, cap. 288.

[3050] Berthelot (1893), I, 63. His French translation leaves out some of the Latin text as published in Archaeologia, cap. 288.

[3051] “Cardan’s concentric circles,” according to Berthelot (1893), I, 64.

[3051] “Cardan’s concentric circles,” according to Berthelot (1893), I, 64.

[3052] Berthelot (1893), I, 55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1893), Vol. I, 55.

[3053] II, prologus (closing passage). “Huius ergo imitator desiderans fore, apprehendi atrium agiae Sophiae conspicorque cellulam diversorum colorum omnimodo varietate refertam et monstrantem singulorum utilitatem ac naturam. Quo mox inobservato pede ingressus, replevi armariolum cordis mei sufficienter ex omnibus, quae diligenti experientia sigillatim perscrutatus, cuncta visu manibusque probata satis lucide tuo studio commendavi absque invidia. Verum quoniam huiusmodi picturae usus perspicax non valet esse, quasi curiosus explorator omnibus modis elaboravi cognoscere, quo artis ingenio et colorum varietas opus decoraret, et lucem diei solisque radios non repelleret. Huic exercitio dans operam vitri naturam comprehendo, eiusque solius usu et varietate id effici posse considero, quod artificium, sicut visum et auditum didici, studio tuo indagare curavi.” Ilg’s Latin text (1874).

[3053] II, prologus (closing passage). “Therefore, wanting to imitate this, I entered the atrium of the holy Sophia and took note of the cell filled with a variety of colors, reflecting the usefulness and nature of each. As I stepped in without being noticed, I filled the little armory of my heart sufficiently with everything that I had examined in detail through diligent experience, and I clearly recommended everything inspected with my hands to your study without envy. However, since the use of such a painting is not clear, like a curious explorer, I made every effort to understand how the art’s genius and the variety of colors could adorn the work and not repel the light of day and rays of the sun. In dedicating myself to this exercise, I grasp the nature of glass, and I consider that it is possible to achieve this only through its use and variety, which, like sight and hearing, I cared to explore through your dedication.” Ilg’s Latin text (1874).

[3054] III, 47.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ III, 47.

[3055] I have followed Ilg’s rather than Hendrie’s text; III, 48.

[3055] I have followed Ilg’s text instead of Hendrie’s; III, 48.

[3056] Hendrie (1847), pp. 432-3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hendrie (1847), pp. 432-3.

[3057] Ernst von Meyer, History of Chemistry, 1906.

[3057] Ernst von Meyer, History of Chemistry, 1906.

[3058] Migne, PL 146, 583-4. Some accused the bishop of resort to magic arts: Ibid., 606.

[3058] Migne, PL 146, 583-4. Some accused the bishop of using magic: Ibid., 606.

[3059] W. Stubbs, in RS LXIII, p. cix. C. L. Barnes, Science in Early England, in Smithsonian Report for 1895, p. 732. Of the alchemy ascribed to Dunstan, Elias Ashmole remarked in his Theatrum Chemicum Britannicum, 1652, “He who shall have the happiness to meet with St. Dunstan’s work De occulta philosophia ... may therein read such stories as will make him amazed to think what stupendous and immense things are to be performed by virtue of the Philosopher’s Mercury, of which a taste only and no more.”

[3059] W. Stubbs, in RS LXIII, p. cix. C. L. Barnes, Science in Early England, in Smithsonian Report for 1895, p. 732. Regarding the alchemy attributed to Dunstan, Elias Ashmole noted in his Theatrum Chemicum Britannicum, 1652, “Anyone who has the fortune to encounter St. Dunstan’s work De occulta philosophia ... will find stories that are truly astonishing, making one wonder about the incredible and vast things that can be achieved through the Philosopher’s Mercury, of which one can only get a taste and no more.”

[3060] Berthelot (1893), I, 234.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Berthelot (1893), Vol. I, p. 234.

[3061] Karpinski (1915), pp. 26-30; Haskins, EHR, XXX (1915), 62-5.

[3061] Karpinski (1915), pp. 26-30; Haskins, EHR, XXX (1915), 62-5.

[3062] Berlin 956, 12th century, “Hic incipit alchamia. Accipe CCCC ova gauline que generata sunt et facta in mense martii .../ ... ut recentiora sint semper et calidiora. Explicit alchamia.” The titles of the last three chapters are, “de iiii ollis, de cognitione, de observatione stestarum.” I have not seen the MS but follow Rose’s description in the Berlin MSS catalogue.

[3062] Berlin 956, 12th century, “Here begins alchemy. Take four hundred eggs that have been produced and made in the month of March .../... so they are always fresher and warmer. Ends alchemy.” The titles of the last three chapters are, “on four pots, on knowledge, on the observation of the stars.” I haven't seen the manuscript but I'm following Rose's description in the Berlin manuscript catalogue.

[3063] I have used the edition of Marbod’s poems in Migne, PL vol. 171, which also contains a life of Marbod. Two secondary accounts of Marbod are C. Ferry, De Marbodi Rhedonensis Episcopi vita et carminibus, Nemansi, 1877; L. V. E. Ernault, Marbode, Évêque de Rennes, Sa vie et ses Œuvres, in Bull. et Mém. de la Société Archéologique du dept. d’Ille-et-Vilaine, XX, 1-260, Rennes, 1889. See also V. Rose, Aristoteles De Lapidibus und Arnoldus Saxo, in Zeitsch. f. deutsches Alterthum, XVIII (1875), p. 321, et seq.; L. Pannier, Les lapidaires français du moyen âge, Paris, 1882. C. W. King, The Natural History, Ancient and Modern, of Precious Stones and Gems, London, 1865.

[3063] I used the edition of Marbod’s poems found in Migne, PL vol. 171, which also includes a biography of Marbod. Two secondary sources on Marbod are C. Ferry, De Marbodi Rhedonensis Episcopi vita et carminibus, Nemansi, 1877; L. V. E. Ernault, Marbode, Évêque de Rennes, Sa vie et ses Œuvres, in Bull. et Mém. de la Société Archéologique du dept. d’Ille-et-Vilaine, XX, 1-260, Rennes, 1889. Also see V. Rose, Aristoteles De Lapidibus und Arnoldus Saxo, in Zeitsch. f. deutsches Alterthum, XVIII (1875), p. 321, et seq.; L. Pannier, Les lapidaires français du moyen âge, Paris, 1882. C. W. King, The Natural History, Ancient and Modern, of Precious Stones and Gems, London, 1865.

[3064] CLM 23479, 11th century, fols. 4-10, Carmina de lapidibus eadem quae Marbodo tribuuntur sed alio ordine. Of CUL 768, 15th century, fols. 67-80, “Marbodi liber lapidum,” the Catalogue says, “This Latin poem has been often printed but it does not appear that the editors have collated this MS. The order of the sections is different from all those of which Beckmann speaks in his edition (Göttingen, 1799), answering, however, most nearly to his own.”

[3064] CLM 23479, 11th century, fols. 4-10, Carmina de lapidibus, the same work attributed to Marbodo but arranged differently. Of CUL 768, 15th century, fols. 67-80, “Marbodi liber lapidum,” the Catalogue states, “This Latin poem has been printed many times, but it seems that the editors have not compared this manuscript. The order of the sections differs from all those mentioned by Beckmann in his edition (Göttingen, 1799), but it is closest to his own.”

[3065] The full name of Tiberius was, of course, Tiberius Claudius Nero Caesar.

[3065] Tiberius's full name was, of course, Tiberius Claudius Nero Caesar.

[3066] Library of Dukes of Burgundy 8890, 12th century, Evacis regis. BN 2621, 12th and 15th centuries, #6, Poemation de gemmis cuius author dicitur Evax, Rex Arabiae.

[3066] Library of Dukes of Burgundy 8890, 12th century, Evacis regis. BN 2621, 12th and 15th centuries, #6, Poemation de gemmis whose author is said to be Evax, King of Arabia.

Montpellier 277, Liber lapidum preciosorum Evax rex Arabum.

Montpellier 277, The Book of Precious Stones Evax, King of the Arabs.

Riccard. 1228, 12th century, fols. 41-54; Incipit prologus Evacis regis Arabie ad Neronem Tyberium de lapidibus. Incipit lapidarius Evacis habens nomina gemmarum lx.

Riccard. 1228, 12th century, fols. 41-54; Beginning of the prologue of King Evacis of Arabia to Tiberius Nero about stones. Beginning of the stone guide of Evacis containing the names of 60 gems.

BL Hatton 76 contains two letters of Evax, king of the Arabs, to Tiberius Caesar, on the virtues of stones, according to Cockayne (1864), I, xc and lxxxiv.

BL Hatton 76 has two letters from Evax, the king of the Arabs, to Tiberius Caesar, discussing the benefits of stones, based on Cockayne (1864), I, xc and lxxxiv.

[3067] Printed by J. B. Pitra, III (1855), 324-35.

[3067] Printed by J. B. Pitra, III (1855), 324-35.

[3068] BN 7418, 14th century, fol. 116-, (D)amigeronis peritissimi de lapidibus. Since this is the sole MS known of the prose version (Rose, 1875, p. 326) and is of the 14th century, whereas we have numerous early MSS of Marbod’s poem, it would seem that this may be derived from Marbod rather than even from the earlier and fuller work which he is supposed to have used.

[3068] BN 7418, 14th century, fol. 116-, (D)amigeronis peritissimi de lapidibus. Since this is the only manuscript known of the prose version (Rose, 1875, p. 326) and dates back to the 14th century, while we have many early manuscripts of Marbod’s poem, it seems likely that this may have been derived from Marbod rather than from the earlier and more complete work that he is believed to have used.

[3069] Namely, Leo, Cancer, Aries, Sagittarius, Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn.

[3069] Specifically, Leo, Cancer, Aries, Sagittarius, Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn.

[3070] See page 775, note 2.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See page 775, note 2.

[3071] King (1865), p. 7; Rose (1875), p. 335.

[3071] King (1865), p. 7; Rose (1875), p. 335.

[3072] Ferry (1887), p. 69.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ferry (1887), p. 69.

[3073] NH XXXVI, 56. Pliny, however, makes these statements about chelonia and not chelonitis which follows it.

[3073] NH XXXVI, 56. Pliny, though, makes these statements about turtles and not about the following tortoise species.

[3074] The stones which I have taken as examples are numbers 1, 3, 5, 18, 19, 39, and 57 respectively.

[3074] The stones I've chosen as examples are numbers 1, 3, 5, 18, 19, 39, and 57, respectively.

[3075] See above, chapter 29, page 689.

[3075] See above, chapter 29, page 689.


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