On Divers Learning

THE MOST WISE AND VENERABLE MICHAEL PSELLUS: OMNIFARIOUS DOCTRINE

1.

2. On certain terms accustomed to be used in the Christian dogma.

Essence and nature in the holy and consubstantial Trinity denote one and the same thing, for both are common and universal, and are spoken of the three persons, of whom there is one nature and one substance, one form, one divinity, one grace, one parity and equality, one glory, one confession, and one power.

^B Hypostasis and person similarly signify one and the same thing; for thus, for example, the Father is hypostasis and person, the Son is hypostasis and person, the Holy Spirit is hypostasis and person. Glorify, therefore, three persons or hypostases, but one nature and essence of them. The holy Fathers indeed use the terms of essence and of nature and of form for one and the same thing. And again, in regard to

the face and the hypostasis and the character of the same. Thus, there is one Godhead, one nature, one essence, one form. And again, three persons, three hypostases, and three characters, three properties. Now, a property in the case of the ^A Father is unbegottenness; in the case of the Son, begottenness; and in the case of the Holy Spirit, the procession.

3. Regarding things that are enhypostatic. Attend to this word, my master, for it has many meanings, and what it properly denotes is very difficult to grasp. Now, all things existing, whether bodily or bodiless, in relation to that in which they exist are said to be enhypostatic, in such a way that, according to this account, one might say that both the color and the essence of a man are enhypostatic, although properly speaking, the color is ^B *heterohypostatic*. For it does not have an existence of its own, but exists in a body. But the essence is properly a hypostasis, and yet it is not "enhypostatic." Nevertheless, even these things are abusively called enhypostatic. Again, what the external philosophers call the "most specific species," the human being considered in a general sense, is called enhypostatic. And the human being considered in a general sense is called enhypostatic as being contemplated in the hypostases, for instance, in Peter and Paul and the remaining individual men. These three indicated meanings of "enhypostatic," then, are not very difficult to grasp. We shall speak hereafter of the fourth, which is more difficult.

4. Regarding the Enhypostaton. ^C The *Enhypostaton* is that which has been added to another nature different in essence, for the constitution and generation of one person and one hypostasis, and coexists with it, yet is not known to exist by itself. Attend, my master, to this definition of the enhypostaton. The holy catholic Church, concerning the dispensation, dogmatizes one hypostasis and two natures. By hypostasis, it means the incarnate Son; by natures, the divinity and the humanity. The animated and rational body, therefore, which our Lord Jesus Christ assumed, it does not call a hypostasis, lest it be found to speak of two hypostases, which the heretic Nestorius ^D babbled, but it calls it *enhypostaton*, as having received its being and its existence in the hypostasis of the Son, and not having pre-existed even for the twinkling of an eye. For Christ himself, being one hypostasis—or rather, that I may speak more clearly, the Son of God himself, being one hypostasis of the holy Trinity—became also the hypostasis for the body which he assumed, so that the body of the Lord is indeed enhypostatic, but is not a hypostasis.

5. Regarding the Consubstantial. Those things are called consubstantial whose hypostases are divided from one another, but which are united in essence. For instance, I and you and all men individually are hypostases divided from one another, but brought under one essence according to the common account of humanity; and in this respect, we are consubstantial. In the same way, the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit are indeed divided according to their hypostases; for the Father is other, the Son is other, and the Holy Spirit is other;

they are joined in essence. For essence is the common reason of the persons, that is, the one divinity, the one nature, one form. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are therefore consubstantial, as they happen to be of the same and one essence. They are, as has been said, divided according to the persons, but they are joined according to the essence, that is, the nature. For this reason, therefore, they are called consubstantial, according to their ^A sameness of species.

6. Concerning those that constitute a person simultaneously. Those things that constitute a person simultaneously do indeed differ from one another in essence, but they have coalesced into one and the same person, as you, Emperor Michael, are composed of soul and body. Now these parts, soul and body, differ from each other in essence. For another is the essence of the soul, and another that of the body. But according to the Christian belief, they are ^B truly "simultaneous-hypostatic" things; for neither is the soul older than the body, nor the body older than the soul, but soul and body are simultaneous, so that whatever things differ in essence but have come into being at the same time and sustain one another, are both and are called "simultaneous-hypostatic." Therefore, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are not "simultaneous-hypostatic," even if none of them is older or younger, since they do not differ in essence. But they are and are called consubstantial.

7. Concerning essential union and difference. Essential union is that which gathers many hypostases into one essence, as all individual people are divided according to their hypostases, yet ^C are united according to their essence, that is, the reason of humanity. This union of hypostases into one essence is therefore called essential union. Essential difference, however, is when the natures that have been joined and united into one hypostasis remain unconfused and undiminished. As for example the two natures of Christ, that is, the divinity and the humanity, having come together into one hypostasis, were not confused nor diminished, but possess an essential difference. For each of the two natures is unmixed and unconfused according to the reason of essence, and they differ from one another, not according to the hypostasis—for the hypostasis of both is one—but according to essential difference.

8. Concerning personal union and difference. Personal union is that which gathers and binds different essences and natures into one person and one and the ^D same hypostasis, as in the economy of our Lord Jesus Christ a personal union occurred. For the two natures in Him were united unconfusedly into one and the same hypostasis. Personal difference, however, is when persons comprised under one and the same essence are distinguished from one another by number, and constitute a plurality by traits as if by certain marks, just as you and I and all other individual humans are distinguished from one another by characteristic traits, and differ personally. As for example, I am of somewhat greater height, dusky in complexion, and somewhat hoary; you, however, are of middle age, white, and sound in your articulate speech. Likewise also

the rest of mankind have in such characteristics a personal difference.

^B 9. On relative union and difference. Relative union is a friendly disposition, or a concordant harmony of wills. Those, therefore, who cultivate friendship toward one another are said, by reason of this friendship, to be joined by a relative union. Nestorius, however, that heretic urged by furies, when he rejected the ecclesiastical dogma which affirms that God himself became man and was united to our nature, denied that personal union and talked nonsense, saying that a mere man was born of the holy Mary, whom God had accompanied with a friendly disposition from the very moment of his birth; and while the wretch confessed a union, it was not a personal one, but a relative one, whence he did not teach that there is one person, but two, distinct from one another in both essence and person, but joined by love and by willing and feeling the same things, and other such things he raved about.

10. On the most holy Trinity. The holy and catholic Church teaches that the Father is unbegotten, that the Son is begotten of the Father, and that the Spirit proceeds from the Father alone, and not also from the Son. She calls the Son the Word of the Father and the radiance, because he was born of the Father without any intercourse, impassibly, timelessly, without flux, and inseparably. And she calls him the Son and the character of the Father's hypostasis, because he is perfect and has his own proper hypostasis, and is in all things similar to the Father, except for the unbegottenness. ^C She also calls him Only-begotten, because he alone was begotten of the Father. For although the Holy Spirit also proceeds from the Father alone, he does so not through generation, but through procession. This is a different mode of existence. Now generation and procession, as also unbegottenness, do not signify a difference of essence, nor of dignity, but a mode of existence.

11. On the most holy Trinity. The Father is indeed perfect and unbegotten, for he has his being not from something else, but from himself. The Son is from the Father by generation. The Holy Spirit is likewise from the Father alone, but by procession. Now the generation of the Son from the Father and the procession of the Holy Spirit are simultaneous and together. ^D What the reason is for the difference between generation and procession, no one knows. The hypostases, therefore, differ only by their hypostatic properties—that is, by unbegottenness, generation, and procession—yet they are divided even while being inseparable. Each of the three persons has a perfect hypostasis. For in three perfect hypostases there is one simple essence, exceeding and surpassing all perfection. We call both the Son and the Spirit "Paraclete," because both receive the supplications of all. However, we affirm that the Spirit proceeds from the Father, but is given through the Son.

12. On the mode of the communication of idioms. ^A Attend, my lord, to the words; for the matter is very difficult and very necessary: wherefore it shall be explained by me to you at greater length, as much as is lawful. You must know, most august emperor, that when we say divinity and humanity, we signify the whole nature of the divinity and the whole nature of the humanity. But when we say God and man, we do not always denote the wholes of the natures, but sometimes also the hypostases and persons. When, therefore, I say simply, "I believe in God," without adding anything else, I have signified the whole divinity. But when I say, "God became man," I do not signify the whole divinity, but only the name of the Son. And again, if I say, "God was incarnate for the sake of man," I have signified the whole humanity. But if I say, "A man was in the land of Ausitis," I signify only Job. Attend ^B precisely to this doctrine. Since, therefore, we confess two natures of our Lord Jesus Christ, divinity and humanity, but one hypostasis, composed of both; when we consider the natures themselves, we say divinity and humanity. But when we consider the hypostasis composed from the natures, we call him Christ, and God and man, and God clothed in flesh. Sometimes, however, we designate him simply as God and Son of man; and when we say simply God, we do not separate him from man, nor, when we call him Son of man, do we separate him from God; for he is the same whole God and whole man. For when we say divinity, we do not designate with it the properties of humanity; for we do not say that divinity is passible or created. Nor again, when we say humanity, do we understand in it the properties of divinity; for we do not say that humanity is uncreated. But regarding the unity of the person, the matter is otherwise. We boldly ^C confess Christ separately as God, and again separately as man, and no less do we confess both at once. For when we speak of God, we sub-understand man, and when we speak of man, we confess God. And we speak of the same God as passible, in so far as he is man, and of the pre-eternal and beginningless child, in so far as he is God. And this is the mode of the communication, with each nature communicating its own properties to the other because of the identity of the hypostasis, and because of their mutual permeation, so to speak. In this, my lord, many heretics err, while they are unable to discern the depth of the dispensation.

13. On the divine union

the unity of the human persons to be personal, and we affirm that the entire substance of the Godhead is united to the entire human nature. For in no way did the Father and the Holy Spirit participate in the incarnation of the Word of God, except by being pleased and willing it. Therefore, the whole nature, and not just a part of it, works in the person of Christ by divine operation.

14. On the impassibility of the divine nature.

^A You must confess that the nature of the Word was incarnate, that is, united to flesh. Not that the nature of the Word suffered in the flesh, but that Christ suffered in the flesh; for we confess that God became man, and man became God. And we have learned that the Godhead was united to humanity in one of its persons; but that the Godhead became man, or was humanized, we have in no way heard. Since, however, there are two natures of Christ, there are necessarily also two of his natural wills, and he is himself possessed of a will according to both of his natures. For he assumed the volitive power that naturally exists within us. We affirm, therefore, that his operations are also twofold; for as God and consubstantial with the Father, he possessed the divine operation, and as one who became man and is consubstantial with us, he was not without the operation ^B of human nature.

15. Who is God.

Neither is heaven God, nor the sun, nor any other of those things which are seen, nor even that highly honored and celebrated-by-men intellect; nor is he any "idea" separated and sundered from bodies, as Plato teaches, nor the nature of the world, nor life, nor light, nor incorporeality, nor immateriality, as one might say. He is neither visible to the senses nor graspable by the mind, but is some other unsearchable nature, and his power is the preserver, giver, and producer of life; and, to speak once for all, all his faculties are infinite both in reason of beginning and of end. And with respect to the former, he is called without beginning, and with respect to the latter, without end; all ^C told, he is eternal. God is, therefore, of infinite power, and is devoid of beginning and end, and is eternal: a fact which Gregory the Theologian also truly and theologically taught.

16. How God knows things that are subject to change.

God does not know these things as they are, but as he himself is in essence. For example, things are divisible into parts, but God is indivisible; he therefore knows divisible things indivisibly. And again, things are subject to alteration and change, but God is unalterable and immutable; he therefore knows alterable and mutable things in an unalterable and immutable manner. Thus, he also knows things subject to time in an eternal manner, and things ^D contingent as necessary, and bodily things incorporeally. But it is not the case that, because God knows a body in an incorporeal manner, that body is altered and becomes incorporeal. Rather, God knows things by his knowledge according to the character of his own existence; but each of those things remains what it is. Consequently, to those who are perplexed and ask whether God knew Adam while he was about to trans-

those, therefore, who raise this doubt, and ask if God foresaw that Adam would transgress the commandments, how could it happen that Adam might not have sinned? For how could the first-formed man avoid what God had foreseen? To this doubt, be ready to answer that God, by His own power, knows both what is and what is to be, yet things are not changed, even if He knows them with a more perfect reason. Since, therefore, He knew that Adam would fall into sin, His knowledge was not the cause of sin for man. For He did not take away from him the equilibrium of opinion and the faculty of choosing the good, if he so wished; but God indeed knew what would happen, yet the power of the soul to incline toward the good was not taken away from Adam. And Adam, indeed, had an inclination toward contraries in an indefinite manner: but God knew the indefinite in a definite way. For just as He knows a body incorporeally, so too He knows the indefinite definitely. ^B

17. From what first element did God begin to create the world?

Moses indeed, who saw God, assigns the first place to heaven and earth in the origins of the world. But among the sages of the Greeks, some have thought otherwise. For some bring forward the earth first as the center of the heavenly circle, because even in a plane circle the center is prior and more ancient. Others divide the entire world into four elements and a fifth, the ethereal kind of body: and believing that those four are disposed under the ether, they affirm that the heaven, the most beautiful of the ethereal nature, was made first of all. But those who clearly deny that the world was made, consistently with their own opinion maintain that the universe exists everlastingly at once. But it is better to consider that the heaven was made in the first place, inasmuch as it is a more excellent body, and one that gathers and encompasses the rest. ^C

18. Whence did men receive the notion of God?

Man derived the notion of God from the order of things, from the equal laws of nature, from the providence reaching to all things. For the rising and setting of the great luminaries, always holding their way at the same times and in the same manner, and the courses of the stars maintaining the same reason, and the circular rotation of heaven collecting and binding all things, and other things which behave similarly in other bodies, proclaim that there is someone who cares for the universe and provides for it. For if the world had coalesced by chance and accident, its parts would be borne about without order and reason: but now the well-ordered movement of the universe, and the fact that nothing is moved or rests without reason, but all things calmly and fitly allow themselves to be ruled, demonstrate to us God as the maker and creator of the universe. ^D

19. Are there more angels or humans?

Angels are fewer in number than humans. For observe how all numbers that are closer to the unit are smaller than numbers that are further distant from it. As the binary, the ternary, and the quaternary are smaller than twenty and thirty. Just

just as those numbers closer to the monad are smaller, and those further away are larger, so those things which are closer to the one and only God are likewise fewer in number, while those that are further away are more numerous. Closer to God are the angels, archangels, and the powers encircling Him; further away are men. Thus, men are more numerous than the angels; hence, the number of angels has already been determined and circumscribed, whereas the generation of men pours forth into infinity, though it too shall be brought to a halt at the time of the consummation.

20. On Mind

Not every mind is participated in by every soul. The primary Mind cannot be participated in by any soul. For how could the Mind which is more excellent than all things, and the Creator of all things, be participated in by any soul? For it is a certain Mind, ^A participant of no soul, that is the prince of all intelligible multitude and of the multitude of minds. And this is indeed the first Mind, and is so named. After this mind which cannot be participated in, there succeeds a mind which can be participated in—not the mundane one, however, but the supramundane and ^B that which is separate from the world; then the mundane, for according to the opinions of the Greeks, the world itself is also endowed with soul and mind. And the mundane soul does not immediately participate in the supramundane mind, but primarily in the mundane. The order, therefore, and the number, and the names are as follows: the mind that cannot be participated in, the supramundane, and the mundane.

21. Again on Mind

Every mind understands itself. But the first mind, which cannot be participated in, understands itself alone. For it has nothing prior to itself ^C that it might understand. And it would not understand those things that are after it. But it possesses the knowledge of these in a manner of non-understanding that is superior to understanding. And it is because this mind is mind and intelligible at once: mind, as understanding itself; intelligible, as being understood by itself. But the mind that follows the unparticipated mind—the participant mind—understands itself at once and the mind that is prior to it. For every mind either understands itself, or that which is above itself, or that which is after itself. But if it understands that which is after itself, it turns ^D toward the worse. But if it understands that which is above itself, if it does so through the knowledge of itself, it will at once know both itself and that one. If, however, it were to know only that one, it would remain ignorant that it is a mind. But actually, while it knows that which is prior to itself, it will also know itself. Therefore, there is also the intelligible in the mind, and in the intelligible there is mind, and there is one that is more universal and another that is more particular.

22. Again on Mind

Every mind has its essence, its power, and its operation eternally. The whole essence of the mind is fixed at once, and it neither increases nor grows in magnitude, nor is that which is today something that was not yesterday. And its intellection is likewise similar to its essence. For it is most full and whole; it understands all things at once, and does not see the past as past, nor does it know the future as something that will be, but it knows all things as present, not being moved, not reasoning, not...

nor does it gather one thing from another, nor, like the soul, posit premises from which it might draw conclusions, but it knows all things simultaneously. For since it is immovable, it is not measured by time, neither according to essence nor according to operation. If, therefore, its essence is eternal and its operation is eternal, then the power that is intermediate between these has also obtained an eternal subsistence.

23. Concerning the Mind.

Every mind is a substance having no parts. For that which lacks magnitude, which is not a body, and which is in no way moved, is also indivisible. For everything that is divided is divided either by reason of magnitude or by reason of plurality. But since the mind is in every way sempiternal and is more sublime than bodies, it also has no parts. ^B Whence, indeed, is it certain that the mind is not a body? Because it understands itself and reflects upon itself; for no body understands itself. Whence, furthermore, is it certain that the mind is eternal? Because its intelligence is not divided into parts, but remains in perpetual identity, just as its essence. It is, moreover, the creator of all things—not every mind, however, but that which is imparticipable and the maker of the world. It causes to exist in the first place its own properties, which are immutable, and then also those things that are mutable and temporal; ^C not that it creates some things first and others later, but it makes all things in one moment. Furthermore, they proceed in their own order and according to their own property, some preserving an intelligible property, others a natural motion.

24. Concerning the same subject.

The participable mind, which is after that imparticipable one, has within itself the first intelligible mind, and has obtained an intelligible cognition of all things below it. For according to the measure of its own essence, it possesses both what is above it and what is below it. Whence it also knows the imparticipable mind intelligibly; for although that is imparticipable, yet it gives to inferior things certain clear significations of its own existence. ^D But this mind also knows the soul and physical things intelligibly; for it does not know the things it understands according to the nature with which they are endowed, nor does it know the better things in a worse way, or the worse things in a better way, but both intelligibly. Nor does it conform itself to the things it understands; for it cannot conform to what is superior, and it does not wish to conform to what is inferior. Therefore, according to its own nature, it understands both the things above it and those below it; and it does not possess these in itself, but it possesses the causes of them; and just as it possesses intelligible things intelligibly, so also it possesses sensible things intelligibly within itself.

25. Concerning the Mind.

All intelligible species—such as souls, minds, angels, archangels, powers, and everything else of that kind—are both within one another and each is also by itself. And neither is there confusion brought about by their being within one another, nor do they receive division by being each one by itself. For it goes

everything through everything, and each thing is in itself. For bodies, each one exists by itself, and cannot pass through others because of its density. But incorporeal and intelligible forms, being without density and magnitude, pass through each other. And yet they remain unconfused. Thus, all intelligible forms are in one another in a unified way, and yet each is distinct separately, just as are the objects of contemplation within one soul. ^A

26. On Mind.

27. On Soul.

28. On Soul.

But it is said that it is necessary for the soul to use the senses, for that which acts through the body possesses perception in order that, through it, it may know external things. If, then, the soul is incorporeal, the passions of the body will not pass over to it. Or if they do reach it, they do not reach its essence, but rather its faculties and operations.

29. On the soul.

Things that mix are either so intermingled that they are confounded, as are fluids, or they are intertwined, as air and light are. If they should only touch, they are separated in essence but mixed in their operations. For this reason, Aristotle posits a twofold soul: the one separated, and the other having its subsistence in the body. Yet the soul that is in the body does not perceive, if it is indeed blended with the body, but rather the ensouled body perceives. For the body has become capable of perception, desire, and the other affections through the soul. Plato, however, says that the true essence of the soul belongs to itself; for a form that has its subsistence in another is called an essential quality, but not a substance.

30. On the soul further.

The physicist and the dialectician define the soul differently. The physicist considers the soul's substance insofar as it is not separate from the body; since he confesses a knowledge of nature, he will observe the soul not as disjointed from the body, and insofar as it is not disjointed. The dialectician, however, contemplates the rational principles of its essence as they are in themselves, and the mathematician contemplates them as abstracted from the body; but the first philosopher is concerned with the separable life of the soul. One must surely ask whether the soul is a substance or not, and whether it is a substance in potentiality or in actuality. And whether it is a body, or incorporeal, or both? In a certain way, it is also right to understand its substance from those things that belong to the soul. Furthermore, our rational life, which Aristotle calls the intellect, is both separable and inseparable because of its inclination toward the body.

31. On the soul.

The soul that knows itself, and that it possesses a divine prerogative, stands far removed from the nature of bodies, and surpasses all seeds. It is, moreover, far prior to these, being distinct from all bodies, and positioned in its own place high above all natural and seminal principles, and indeed, I would say, above the entire universe itself. For it does not come into bodies from the outflow of the stars, nor is it generated in a natural or corporeal manner, nor do seminal principles launch it into the body, but it descends from above from God. But that soul which is ignorant of itself, and does not know that it is of a noble origin from above and was created and constituted in a free condition, serves the body in the manner of a slave and loses its freedom; and its great eye is overwhelmed or extinguished by the natural veil.

32. Whether the soul changes into an angel.

Those things which are diverse in essence change not into other species of

of life to each other. For things that are begotten and mutable are not ^A similar to those that are immutable. But the soul cannot become an angel or an archangel, yet it imitates their operations as far as is right, and it is likened to the superior genera, since it was also made in the image of God; and the image has the pattern of likeness set before it. And if it is likened to God, much more so to the powers that are beneath God. And every soul is made in the image of God, but not every soul possesses the "likeness." For the "in the image" is a power toward the performance of good things, and a kind of principle, an incentive for good deeds, and as it were a sketch of the virtues. But the "in the likeness" is in operation the end itself and the completed image. And we do not all possess the "in the likeness" in the same way, but some more, others less.

33. Whether the soul is without a beginning.

The soul is not a principle unto itself, nor is it unbegotten, nor does it exist before others as if without another cause. And what is this cause? From whom it primarily proceeds, this is clear to everyone, namely the creative cause, for this is the principle of the generation of all things. And what is its way of procession? And how did it proceed? We derive its substance from the insufflation by which God breathed it into the first man. But the heathens discuss this with greater variety, as they do also concerning other things, saying that God produces the things that are brought forth solely for the sake of His own perfection. And in order to show the whole to be perfect, He brings all things forth at once. Yet each thing proceeds according to its own order: the being from itself, life from the being, the mind from life, and the soul from the demiurgic mind. Therefore, they say, the soul is a progeny of the mind, having proceeded from it without time. ^B

34. More precisely concerning the faculties of the soul.

Many of the philosophers do not even call them faculties of the soul in a simple sense. But it is necessary to make the distinction: as there are mental faculties of the soul, some are intellectual, and are led back ^C to the superior, immaterial mind of the soul; others are those that fill the soul with that mind which co-exists with it from eternity; others are those that define the faculties of the soul entirely and arrange them according to intellectual thought; and others, like living laws, direct the secondary species of life after the mind; and some are of the nature of good, while others are adorned by the love of the beautiful. But the philosopher Iamblichus, being more excessive than he should be, brings the rational soul down from God even to the earth, and in every part of the universe changes its faculties; attributing some to it in the heaven, others in the elements, and others finally in the coarse body. ^D

35. How Plato declares the soul to be both begotten and immortal.

Plato considers the soul to be unbegotten by reason of the essence and life it enjoys; for he affirms that it was not made in time, nor after a time when it did not exist. But insofar as it does not have an infinite power of being, but always receives this from the superior

[…continuation of earlier pages] which it always receives from superior essences, and by this reasoning he teaches that it is generated. For that which is ^A ungenerated is [what simply is]; but whatever comes to be is generated. The soul, therefore, is sempiternal by reason of its essence and life, and according to this condition it is eternal; but it comes to be, insofar as it does not contain an infinite essence, but receives from above that it should be infinite, and holds its immortality as a fixed stake. For not only bodies are generated, but souls also, insofar as they too are participants in time. For every motion and change has time conjoined to it. For Plato even places before the soul the intramundane minds, and those abstracted from the body, and the divine series of them.

36. What is the Platonic soul-generation?

Of the soul, one thing is the essence, another the power, another the operation. These three, then, are the figures and as it were the heads of the soul-generation. And another thing is its subsistence, another is the harmony, and another the species which results and is perfected from these. For even of fire, one thing is the essence by which it is, another is the power, another the operation by which one part dries and another heats. And the subsistence defines its being, while the harmony adjusts its essential ^B multiplicity. The species is that which emerges and is formed from these two. First, therefore, is the soul’s subsistence; second, the harmony; third, the idea; fourth, the power; fifth, the operation; and sixth and last, the form or species that results from these.

37. Why the soul is said to be between the divisible and the indivisible.

The properties of intelligible things are of such a kind: that it should be truly being, eternal, perfect, and other similar things. But the properties of sensible things are other, such as that they are in time according to their essence, are partible, in need of another, and many things of this kind. Next to these succeeds that which is not truly being, but is by essence eternal, though with respect to its operations it has it to be in time, and what is consistent with these. And thus the soul is neither truly being nor truly non-being; therefore we say that the soul is intermediate between the eternal and the sensible, being not purely existent as eternal, nor entirely sensible, but mixed from both and, as it were, tempered ^C from these two extremes. For if it were truly being, it would be indivisible; if on the contrary it were non-being, it would be divisible. Since, however, it is not truly being, it is intermediate between the indivisible and the partible.

38. What soul Plato generates in the Timaeus?

Plato, according to the philosopher Proclus, generates the soul of the universe in his book the Timaeus, and this indeed has both the indivisible and the divisible. And it is intermediate between the intramundane mind and the substance which is divisible through bodies. Just as we, having faith in the apostolic discourse, [recognize] certain principalities and powers, and ^D dominions, and other things of this sort, whether greater or lesser…

intermediary between us and God, so the wiser among the Greeks posited a certain transcendent monad, and after this, certain things which are being and living and thinking, then supramundane intellects, and again intramundane ones, and after these the whole soul, and following this the soul of the universe, and finally particular souls. And they complete the psychic order within this. ^B

39. How many and what are the soul's faculties? A faculty of your soul is the perceptive one, by which it perceives things; the passive one, by which it is affected in a manner agreeable or disagreeable to its nature; and the active one, by which it is voluntarily impelled toward actions. And of these faculties, some are absolute and belong to the soul alone, others exist also within the soul's luminous bodies, some subsist together in a material spirit, and the last extend even to the shell of a dense body. Furthermore, the imaginative faculty is added to all the soul's faculties, which, as it were, expresses them and stamps them, outlining and describing the inferior ones for the superior, and the superior ones for the inferior. For when it fashions the intelligible faculties, it imprints them upon the intellect, and in turn, when it fashions thoughts, it places them in the mind.

40. What is nature? Nature is a faculty not to be viewed by the keenness of the eyes, but to be contemplated by the mind, implanted in bodies by God, the principle of motion and rest. For it is nature that moves natural bodies, and again makes them rest. For all bodies, such as the elements and those things composed of them, even if they have both motion and stillness from God, are yet proximately moved by nature. For there are many things that move a body: first God, then the intellect, then the soul. But lastly nature, which is, as it were, God’s instrument. For the soul and nature move man and irrational animals. But nature alone moves bodies, both the simple and the composite, and again brings them to a halt from their motion.

^C 41. What is the division of the common operations of the soul and body? Of the operations, some have their origin from the soul as the better and more excellent ones; others are roused from the body, when it feels thirst, hunger, or cold, or needs some other such thing, and the soul on that account supplies what is lacking to the body. Again, therefore, some are passions of the body because of the soul, such as blushing, because the soul has judged something to be shameful. Others are of the soul because of the body, such as pleasures and pains which, because of the body's condition, pass through into the soul. ^D Other operations both share equally, such as moving from place to place. For it is proper to the body to change its place, but to move and to impel is the soul's operation.

42. When is the soul united to the body being conceived? The great Theologian Gregory is still unclear on this point, and you would not easily find him adhering to this or that opinion. But the divine Gregory of Nyssa and that distinguished confessor and

CONFESSIO AND PHILOSOPHY

43.

How is the soul united to the body?

44.

Concerning the irrational soul.

45.

What is volition and what is practical reasoning?

NOTE. (6) Understand, as above, that "Being" is eternal and stable; to which is opposed "what is coming into existence," which is created, subject to mutations, and therefore denied by Plato to be true being.

contrary, so that I may refrain from using names. For it assimilates itself, and identifies with and imitates the works of those things.

46. Of election and attention.

Middle are the faculties of the soul, attention and election. Now, election leads the actions, and possesses also a reason by which it judges what is beautiful, and an appetite that desires the things that are harmonious and good for it, and which is always striving to supply what is lacking. Election, therefore, consists of both: reason and appetite. Attention is that by which we attend to the actions we undertake and the words we speak; for this sometimes examines the character of the soul, what it is and how it stands in relation to its parts; and at other times it observes the animal, what it is doing, where it oversteps, and what it lacks. Middle, too, are the exercises of the mathematical disciplines, and the practice of the purgative virtues; and they are called middle because these means are placed between the intelligible and the opinionable rational powers.

47. Whether the soul is dissolved from the body, or the body from the soul?

In natural death, the body is dissolved from the soul, but in intelligible death, the soul is dissolved from the body. For nature bound the body to the soul. If the body were held by the soul, it would not be dissolved. Wherefore, in death the body is dissolved from the soul. But the soul bound itself to the body through the passions. The soul, therefore, dissolves itself from the body. And the soul is a mean between the impartible and the partible essence. For the mind is not purely impartible, nor is it entirely without parts, while the body is entirely partible. And the qualities and material forms in the body are partible, each in each. But the mind possesses all things intellectually; the soul, rationally; the plant, seminally; and the body possesses the shadows of beings; but God is above every intellect and essence.

48. Of virtues.

There are three orders of virtues. For some of them adorn the man or the soul of the body, while others purge the soul from the body, and make it return into itself, which are also called purgative. Others, having thoroughly purged the soul, occupy it in the contemplation of intelligible things, which are called theoretical and intellectual. And one virtue is that of God, another of an angel, and another of man. For just as their essences are different, so too are the virtues. And the soul, properly speaking, is and is called rational; and that which is above the soul is the mind. That which is after the rational soul is the irrational soul, and the idol of the soul. And with all the orders of the angels, virtue proceeds along with them, beginning from above, from the Seraphim. For God is even beyond virtue and every good and every perfection.

49. Of virtues.

There are six degrees of virtues. For there is a certain physical virtue, which is found even in beasts. There is also the ethical, which some even of the unlearned possess. And the political, which is perfected with reason and prudence.

^A The purgative virtue is that which cleanses man from every passion. The theoretical is that which contemplates the intellect. The theurgic is that which awakens the most divine part of our soul and unites it to God Himself, moving a divine frenzy and enthusiasm in the soul. There are also, above these, other more sublime virtues, which are as it were the archetypes of the remaining virtues, and which transcend all substance; these are not accidents, as are the other virtues that accrue to us, but are intelligible and supersubstantial essences.

50. *Concerning virtues.* There are three virtues which perfect man: holiness, which is eager to act for God, as that which consecrates man’s life to the Divine; second, justice, which takes care of those in lower condition; and third, prudence, which desires to order our own life intelligently. Thus, through holiness we are united to God and the One; through justice we provide for those of lower status; and through prudence we are imbued with no common knowledge. Although ethical virtue proceeds from prudence, it does not act through prudence, but is acquired through long habituation. Moreover, the divinity of virtue pervades all beings. For there is a supercelestial virtue and a celestial; a supramundane and a mundane; a mental and an animate; an angelic and a human. There is also a fount of virtues, which we lay hold of when, casting aside partial knowledge, we express the most perfect virtue in act and deed. ^B

51. *Concerning virtue again.* Aristotle the philosopher enumerates four general virtues: prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance. Indeed, he refers prudence to the intellect, but the other three to the pathetic and passion-prone part of the soul. Thus, he neither assigns prudence to the pathetic part, nor places the other three virtues in the intellect. Plato, however, establishes four orders of virtues, of which he calls some political, insofar as they adorn a person living in society; others he calls purgative, others theoretical. The virtue closest to frenzy, according to Plato, is that which is stirred by God with an instinctive enthusiasm, making the soul burn for divine things and rave as if possessed by a divine motion, in the manner of those who are frenzied and fanatical. ^C Yet God is greater than virtue, not only that which is a habit and such as human nature bears, but even than the very idea of virtue itself.

52. *Concerning virtue again.* The likeness to God is not one and the same in number, but diverse and manifold. For we are made like unto Him through the political virtues, but more faintly and dimly. We are made like unto Him also through the purgative virtues, but more distinctly. We are made like unto Him through the theoretical virtues, but even more radiantly. We are also made like unto Him through the theurgic virtues; this, indeed, is the most perfect likeness. For to cleanse the souls and to contemplate existing things is not altogether ^D

similar to God, for He is superior to purgation and contemplation. But to be able to make a man a god, to draw him out from matter, and to deliver him from the passions, so that he himself is able to perform theurgic acts for another, this is the most perfect likeness. For "He who leads the worthy out from the unworthy," says God in the Gospels, "shall be as my mouth." You see how in theurgy He has established the most true likeness. But let us be content if we are also able to adorn ourselves through political virtues. ^B

53. Further on the virtues. The philosopher Plato first leads man to God through political virtue, since this too can in some way reflect the divine likeness. From this he leads him through the purificatory life to contemplation. For since, he says, God has a twofold activity: the one according to which He is in the contemplation of all things before any creation, knowing their formal principles (λόγους) and having them in view, and the other by which He exercises providence over the lesser things—for this reason man also, imitating God, in political virtues turns toward the things here below, and manages those who are inferior with the virtues that bring about moderation of the passions. But being ascended in contemplation, he beholds the formal principles of all things—the natural, the psychic, the intellectual, ^C and the supernatural—and becomes an instrument of God, at once looking toward Him and exercising providence for the things here. However, the soul while in the body exercises such virtues in one way, and in another way when it has been released from the bonds of the body.

54. Further on the virtues. Essence and the very fact of being are given to all things from the Intellect and from the Existent, but the perfection through the virtues proceeds from God. For just as the "being" is from the "Primarily Existing," so the "good" is from the "Primarily Good." Or rather, both essence and virtue are from God. But essence is according to His procession—for essence flows forth to all things from God—whereas perfection is according to the conversion toward Him. For a man cannot be perfected in virtue unless he works his conversion toward God. For just as a painter, about to express a model, ^D would never attain the archetype in his imitation unless he were constantly turning back to it, so he who is sketching or even coloring virtue in himself would not be able otherwise to be made like God, unless he were to turn back to Him continuously, and through scientific reason and the contemplation of the archetype, were to refine the prototype within himself.

55. Further on the virtues. He who possesses the theurgic virtue is called a "divine father" (theopator); for because he makes men gods, for this reason he is called divine father. He who possesses the contemplative virtue is called "divine"; he who possesses the purificatory is called "daimonic"; and he who possesses the political is called "upright." The name of "divine father" is attributed to the theurgist,

^A who, having emerged entirely into a state of divine ecstasy, could never lapse into the contrary form of virtue, being entirely outside himself and having, in a certain sense, become God.

56. *Further concerning the virtues.* There are these three things in the soul: capacity, passion, and disposition. Passion consists of desire, anger, fear, envy, confidence, joy, love, hatred, yearning, emulation, and pity. Capacity is that by which we are able to experience these, such as being able to be angry, to feel sorrow, or to feel pity. Disposition, finally, is that by which we manage these passions well or poorly; for instance, if we are angry more vehemently or more remissly than is right, we behave badly, and it is the same with the rest. Consequently, the virtues are neither passions nor capacities, but dispositions. For we are not called good or bad because of our passions, but it is by our virtues and vices that we are so named. Furthermore, we feel fear or anger without deliberate choice ^B, whereas the virtues are either choices or are inseparable from choice. Moreover, we are said to be moved by our passions, but we are not said to be moved by our vices or virtues; rather, we are said to be disposed in one way or another.

57. *Further concerning the virtues.* Fortitude is a mean between the excess of audacity and the deficiency of cowardice, and it is concerned with fears and confidence. As for temperance, its excess is licentiousness, and its deficiency is insensibility—for we may use this term. Concerning the giving and receiving of wealth, the mean is liberality, the excess is prodigality (or the unsparing use of wealth), and the deficiency is illiberality (or excessive parsimony). Regarding great wealth, magnificence observes the mean, while the excess is tasteless ostentation, and the deficiency is meanness. Concerning the seeking of honors, the one who exceeds is the ambitious man, while he who is deficient sins by his contempt for honor; the mean here ^C lacks a name, for there are many things that have not yet acquired a proper name.

58. *Further concerning the virtues.* Concerning gentleness, which maintains a mean, the excess is irascibility, and the deficiency is a total lack of anger. Regarding truth, he who is in the mean is truthful, and the mean itself may be called truthfulness; its simulation through excess is boasting—and he who possesses this is a boaster—while its simulation through deficiency is irony, and he who practices this is a dissembler. Since there are two types of pleasantness—one in playful jesting and one in the life we lead—he who shows himself pleasant in life as is fitting is called a friend, and the mean is friendship; he who exceeds is a flatterer, while he who is deficient is a morose and difficult person. The mean of pleasantness in jesting is urbanity, the excess is buffoonery, ^D and the deficiency is boorishness. He who is modest...

sive in scurrility, a defect in rusticity. The modest man likewise cultivates the mean, the impudent exceeds it, the timid man—who is never not moved by shame—falls short of it. ^C

59. How do principle and element differ? A principle has nothing prior to itself, such as matter and form. But an element is complex and composed of matter and form, and has matter and form as its principle. Matter is an incorporeal thing, devoid of qualities, to be explained by reason alone, and not at all accessible to the senses. Therefore, this matter is stamped by a certain species and figure, which is form, and thus it becomes a body, and first an element, whether ether, or fire, or water, or air, or earth. Then, these elements coalescing with one another, a composite body is formed, whether animate or inanimate. And whilst matter and form more properly hold the definition of a principle than the elements do, so too the elements more so than other bodies. However, we call matter a principle, not because it has nothing of a principle above it, but because bodies are constituted immediately beneath it. ^D

60. Of principles, what are they? The first principle of beings, and that which is placed above all principles, is God; after God, there are many principles of natural things. And it has been said that matter and form are the principles of the elements; of composite bodies, the principles are the simple elements themselves, concerning which other philosophers have departed into different opinions. For to some, fire appeared to be the principle, because of its efficacy and because all things are consumed into it. To others, air, because animals breathe it. To others, water, because of its seminal nature. To some of these, earth also seemed to be the principle, because more animals are born from the earth and are resolved back into it. Others declared these four elements to be the principles of beings. Plato said the principles are God, as father and maker; matter, as receiving the creation; and the Idea. Plato calls the Idea the primary conception of God and that ineffable imagination and formation according to which He made and founded the world.

61. Of matter. Matter is a thing, so to speak, immaterial, which cannot be comprehended by sense but can be perceived by thought alone. The lowest of all beings, it is without form, without species, without figure, an essence devoid of essence, and a substance without substance. For if you were to abstract from a body its quantities, relations, habits, states, motions, alterations, changes, and everything else whatsoever, what remains is matter. For if you abstract from fire its heat and dryness, and from air its heat and humidity, and from water its coldness and humidity, the last thing that remains of these is matter. ^D

62. Of causes. Aristotle teaches four causes, Plato six. The first cause is the efficient: just as of a bed the first cause is the bed-maker, as

^A the material cause is the wood, for without matter a bed could not come to be. The formal cause is its shape and idea. The final cause is the rest of men in it, for it is on account of this cause that we construct the bed. Aristotle recognizes these four causes. But Plato adds two others: the instrumental, such as the saw or the auger, by means of which we make the bed; and the exemplary. This latter is twofold, for it is either set out externally—and every craftsman makes his product according to an image—or he receives the imprint in his own mind.

63. Of figures. ^B A figure is the quality by which the surface of mathematical bodies is described. A mathematical body is every body endowed with a definite figure, such as the round, the triangular, the square, the pentagonal, and the like. Now, some dogmatize that the four elements are round. But Plato fashions them both round and in various other shapes. For he says that earth—on account of its being firm and stable—bears the shape of a cube, since the cube too is firm and stable. And he posits that fire, because it tends upwards and terminates in a point from a wider base, is endowed with a pyramidal shape, and he discusses many others in a similar way. Yet he maintains these elements are also round, because the heaven, by its circumrotation, turns their surface around, as it were, and makes it round.

64. Of colors. ^C Color is a visible quality of the surface of bodies. But Plato explains the account of colors in a new way. He says that certain effluvia are emitted both from the underlying bodies and from the seeing eyes, which, being joined in the intervening space, produce the species of colors. It is observed that the same colors do not appear in the same way to all, but the hues change according to the different temperaments of those who see and the things being seen; for to those suffering from jaundice, the things they see appear yellow; to those whose pupil is suffused with redness, they appear red; and again, whitish to those who have a white humor suffused over the membranes of the eyes, and differently to others according to ^D the difference of their temperaments.

65. Of mixture and blending. Mixture is the union of bodies by juxtaposition, such as is the case with oil and water. For they are not mixed together in their entirety, but are joined only at their outermost surfaces; because the lower surface of the oil is mixed, or united, with the upper surface of the water. Blending, however, is when the bodies being united are mixed through one another, as in the case of wine and water. And while the things being subjected to mixture are united in part, they remain unconfused; but those being blended pass through one another and cut and are cut, and are mingled together. The union of God with our nature is both a mixture, because it occurs without confusion, and a blending, on account of the mode of the communication of idioms. Furthermore, that new union, with the assumed nature, is a species of mixture and a wondrous and singular blending.

66. On generation and corruption.

67. On bodies.

68. On smallest things.

69. On the variety of knowledge.

of such things. The fourth and final knowledge is that of the irrational soul: sensation and imagination, which apprehend particular things.

70. *How we do not always partake of God, even though He is always acting.* Although God is always active, we do not always become partakers of Him, on account of our ineptitude for receiving Him. For just as when the sun at midday fills all things with light, not all are able to gaze steadily upon it, but only those who rejoice in the firm keenness of their eyes, so neither are all able to partake of God, even though He radiates the intelligible light more brilliantly than any sun; rather, only those who carry the intellectual eye ^B cleansed within their soul can do so. But often even the pure mind itself labors in the perception of divine light, because it is not entirely free or immaterial, but is conjoined with matter and the body. There will be a time, however, when, after the release from the body and the hoped-for restoration, it will have its sight fixed upon God without intermission.

71. *Whether there is any evil in the angels.* Gregory the Theologian, in his Oration on the Nativity of Christ, maintains that the angels are unmoved toward evil. Yet, knowing that the devil was an angel who became evil, he implies that they are at least difficult to move. But the wiser of the Greeks, considering the angels to be closest to God and as it were standing at the gates of divinity, deny that they can become partakers of evil. For, they say, how can those who are interpreters of the divine silence and heralds of goodness be evil? They liken the angelic race to God, from whom it depends, so that through pure likeness it may make His property known to humans. Furthermore, they call all powers beneath God "angels." ^C

72. *Whether incorporeal beings are in a place.* Body and the incorporeal are opposites. If, therefore, body is in a place, the incorporeal is not in a place. For if one of the contraries belongs to one of the opposites, the other must belong to the other. For instance, if being in a place belongs to the body, then not being in a place belongs to that which is contrary to it, the incorporeal. For things that are properly incorporeal are superior to such a state; they are not present to bodies locally, but by relation. Take for example: the soul, after its release from the body—if it departs purely and free from passions, it has no relation to the body it has left behind. But if it has preserved an affection, it loves it even when dissolved, and is carried toward it by the relation of love; thus, while the incorporeal is not present to the body in substance and essence, it leans toward it whenever it wills through affection. ^D

73. *Whether matter is good.* Plato the philosopher, in the *Timaeus*, declares matter to be the mother and nurse of the generation of beautiful things, and a co-cause of the creation of the world; but where the Eleatic stranger speaks, it is said to be the cause of the disorder in the universe. In the dialogue called *Philebus*, however, tracing it back from God, and since it is from God…

and declares it good by reason of its generation from God. But Proclus the philosopher thinks it neither good nor evil. For ^A in so far as it is the lowest of beings and far removed from the Good, he says it is not good; but in so far as he is compelled to count it among the goods as a demiurgic cause, he places it midway between the good and the bad and terms it necessity. For he says that the lack of goodness which is in it contributes to the creation of sensible things, which is what necessity is.

74. On the return of beings to the Divine. Of those things which God brought into being from non-being, some are only beings, such as inanimate bodies, while others are both beings and living and intelligent, such as souls and minds. Each thing, therefore, returns ^B to God, from whom it was brought forth according to its own substance, whether it be a living creature, or only a substance, or one endowed with intellect and cognition. For each thing returns just as it proceeded. This philosophical proposition Proclus the philosopher also inserts and discusses in his chapters, and before him Dionysius the Areopagite explained it even more clearly and accurately, having commented upon this matter with singular diligence, perspicuity, and care.

75. On time. Time is a concept and a name of human thought. For since some things are eternal, always existing and immutable, while others are set under motion and are flowing and corruptible, the ^C philosophers have named that very measure of motion "time." For time is not a self-subsistent thing, nor a visible body, nor an incorporeal substance, like nature, soul, and mind, but a thing lying only in thought. The soul, therefore, when united to the Better, is in the stable aeon; but when it is released from the aeon and moved about some act of becoming, it gives place to time. Time, therefore, is nothing other than the measurement of motion.

76. On motion. Motion is a difficult thing to understand. It is a kind of form and activity of a thing being moved, during which time it is moved. I mean, for example: there is something growing, and something else changing, and something else being carried; and of the ^D growing thing, the motion is increase; of the thing being carried, it is locomotion, and in general of a thing coming into being, it is generation. Therefore, motion is neither the beginning nor the end, but that which is between them. For in building, neither the beginning is motion—for it has not yet moved—nor the end—for it has ceased to be built—but the thing in the middle of these, such as the building itself, that is motion. Which indeed Aristotle called *entelecheia*.

77. On necessity. The philosophers name necessity a certain compulsory power of the result; I mean, for example: astrology depends upon the aspects of the stars, and the heights, and the phases, and the lords of the houses, and other things. When, therefore, everything concurs for something to come to be, and nothing was opposing or

they called it, inasmuch as it cannot be avoided or changed. ^A But as for that which offers its signs only in particular cases, so that it may come to pass, this they called contingent, such as what can happen and not happen. Properly, however, the contingent is that which is placed under our own will, and which possesses an equal and balanced impulse toward either side.

78. *On Fate.* If anyone accurately understands the principles of fate, whence it depends, and what is its nature, he grasps the greatest part of philosophy; for by the common people the name is indeed despised, but by the wiser it is looked up to and wondered at. But to speak generally, fate is the nature of the world which moves bodies; ^B but in particular, it is a certain reflected ray of providence, and a kind of operation which does not use direct motion, as does what is properly called providence, but requires time and place to achieve its effect, whence it also has its name among the Greeks, and is called *heimarmene* (fate) as if it were a certain "connected" nature, and one woven together from many things. Incorporeal things, therefore, are under providence alone, but bodies are under both providence and fate.

79. *On Fortune and Chance.* The more accurate philosophers did not accept fortune—as some are persuaded to believe—as an irrational thing without order and connection, but they determined it to be an indefinite consequence ^C in things undertaken from purpose and for the sake of some end. For example, someone goes out of the house for the sake of washing; he does this by purpose and for the sake of some end, namely, that he might wash in the bath. But as he proceeds, he happens upon a treasure: this cause of the finding of the treasure the wise called fortune. However, they affirm that there is a place for chance both in rational and irrational beings: in rational beings, indeed, as if a man holding a knife should allow it to fall from his hands, and it should stick upright in the ground; but in irrational beings, as if a horse should throw its master, and he should by some chance depart unharmed.

80. *On Eternity and Time.* Some beings have both substance and act eternal, such as the mind. For its substance is unmoved, and its act is not at all transient or mutable, ^D for the mind possesses all things in itself at once. But both the substance and operation of the body are temporary. Thus, for example, our body has a temporary substance, for it is increased little by little, and its operation, for it does not act upon all things at once. But the soul has indeed an eternal substance, for it was not born little by little; but it shares in time regarding its operation, for it does not have all thoughts in itself at once, but passes from one thought to another. And the heaven also is such, eternal, to be sure, in its substance, but subject to time as well by reason of its motion.

81. *On the five senses.* Vision occurs when the light proceeding from the eyes encounters the light emanating from the bodies seen, which Plato

flowing together, which Plato calls corradiation ^A or convergence of rays. We hear through the hollow space that is within the ear, for this is what reverberates upon the infusion of spirit. We smell by the faculty of reason that resides in the brain, which draws in odors through the nasal passages. We taste by the porosity and softness of the tongue, and because nature has attached the veins of the body to it. Voice is spirit emitted through the mouth, driven by the mind. We touch with the whole body, because there are extremities through which we feel what we touch.

82. Whether it is true that some are bewitched by those who look at them.

It is not to be ascribed to falsehood that some are withered and bewitched ^B by the sight of those who look at them. For vision is highly mobile, along with the spirit that emits it. It breathes forth a fiery and miraculous power, so that a man can perform many things through it and be no less affected and suffer. And love, which is the greatest and most vehement affection of the soul, takes its beginning from sight; and so lovers flow, as it were, and melt when they see the beautiful and shapely, for the light or effusion of rays that falls upon them through the eyes destroys the lovers and causes them to waste away, so great is the alteration and shock from the sight. For the appearance of beautiful people, even if they look from afar, kindles a fire in the souls of lovers. But the body of those who love and those who are seen is also affected by such emissions of rays.

83. When conception occurs. ^C

The conception of animals, and especially of humans, happens when the uterus is suitable and temperately dry for receiving the semen, with the menses drawing a portion of pure blood from the entire mass. The female also contributes to conception by moistening the uterus during intercourse, which moisture, however, has not the nature of semen, but provides as it were material for the male semen that has been cast in. And the semen of the man is used for composing the firmer parts of the body, such as the bones, nerves, veins, arteries, and the like; whereas that of the female is used for the weaker parts of the body, namely blood and both kinds of bile. Or rather, all these things consist of both kinds of seed, except that the masculine prevails, and the feminine has less power.

84. Whence arise the likenesses of parents and the unlikenesses to them? ^D

The semen that is secreted is either from the man or from the woman. The man's in itself has the rational principles of his morals and disposition and form, and so does the woman's likewise. When, therefore, both seeds are mixed together, if they are equal, the infant that is born will participate equally in the likeness of both parents. But if the masculine seed prevails over the feminine, the things born will be produced similar to the father; but if the feminine prevails over the masculine, they will resemble the mother. But if the heat that is in the semen has evaporated, that which is born will be conformed to neither of the parents. Often also the woman, during the act of conception,

imagining this or that, the infant is assimilated to what the mother has imagined.

85. *How dreams come to be.* There are many causes of dreams. For some of them are divinely inspired from above, produced in our rational soul through the mediation of the mind; others are, as it were, echoes and resonances of daily actions. Others are formed by the faculty of imagination, which conjures up for us ^A our daily loves or some other affection of the soul. Others are stirred up by the four humors or temperaments, whence the things seen in repose also have colors similar to those humors. Others reveal to us the causes of the arts and occupations with which we are engaged; thus, philosophical dreams occur to the philosopher, rhetorical ones to the rhetorician, and geometrical ones to the geometer. There is not, therefore, one cause of dreams, but as I have said, they are various and manifold.

86. *Concerning health, disease, and old age.* The cause and preservative of health is an equal temperature of heat, cold, moisture, and dryness; if one of these should prevail over the others, disease arises. Certainly, most diseases are generated in the body through an anomaly or irregularity of these elements. Diseases are also brought on by excessive repletion or by the indigestion or corruption of food. But a mediator of health is an orderly diet and a tranquil mind content with its lot. ^B Being formed in the womb, the fetus begins to take shape from the thirty-sixth day, and it begins to be perfected in its members from the fiftieth day. Although Hippocrates affirms that in males, because they are hotter, the articulation of the members occurs from the twenty-sixth day, whereas females are articulated within the second month and perfected within the fourth.

87. *Why do those who fast thirst more than they hunger?* We thirst more when we fast than we hunger, because the heat that is in us first consumes what is left over from food in the body; then that fiery force within us turns toward the natural moisture of the body itself, and it seeks and feeds upon it. Hence, as in mud, dryness follows, and it happens that the body is in greater need of drink, until the heat, having been strengthened in those who drink and having recovered its powers, stirs up a strong appetite for food. For the heat in us has the greatest need for fuel, as indeed we can easily observe outside of ourselves: ^C neither air, nor water, nor earth are seen to crave nourishment or to consume what is near them, but fire alone. For these reasons, also, old men bear fasting most easily, since the heat in them is already dull and slight. And even animals devoid of blood, because they do not abound in heat to the same degree, have less need of food.

88. *Concerning the substance of the heavens.* Plato the philosopher [derived] all things from the four elements ^D.

forming compound bodies, and thus teaches that heaven also consists of the same [elements]: differing only in that terrestrial bodies are composed of the baser and, so to speak, thicker and more material parts of the elements, whereas heaven has received its substance from their more subtle and luminous portions. Aristotle, when he assumes that the four elements are moved in a straight line, and heaven in a circular one, concludes from this diverse motion that its substance is also distinct from the four elements, and he calls heaven and the stars, as far as the moon, the ether and the fifth body. ^A

89. In what circles is heaven divided? Philosophers have divided heaven into various circles, the first of which is the equator, which divides that middle space into a southern and a northern part. Next to this, on both sides, they place towards the right the summer tropic and the arctic circle, and to the left the southern tropic and the antarctic circle. They fashion yet another, the meridian circle, extending from the east to the west, and ^B cutting the five circles already mentioned, and dividing the morning and evening parts equally, which they call the horizon or limiter, by which the two hemispheres are distinguished; the seventh, finally, is the zodiac, beginning from the summer tropic, cutting the equator, and ending at the southern tropic.

90. Of the milky circle in heaven, or the Galaxy. What a comet is in a single star, this is the Galaxy in the whole circle. For the substance of the comet and the milky circle is the same, and because the Galaxy is a great circle, an extensive inflammation necessarily occurs there. This circle touches Sagittarius and the Twins, which are set opposite one another across the diameter. And that what I have said concerning the comet and the Galaxy may be clear to the reader, let him know that below the moon there is a body, not indeed pure fire, but something like smoke, apt to catch flame from motion. When, therefore, a part of that agitated tinder is kindled, and falls into a particular thick matter and ignites it, it makes a comet; but when it is carried through the entire circle, it makes the Galaxy, which appears white, because that tinder, as it were, foams from the motion and turns white. ^C

91. Of the various fiery phenomena appearing in heaven. When the tinder, as I have said, is kindled, if it catches flame only in length and emits sparks, those things called "goats" are formed, for those sparks are not unlike hanging tufts of hair. But if, when kindled in length, it emits no scintillations, it is called a "beam" from its shape. But those that appear to be falling stars, which Aristotle calls "darting," contain the seed of fire within them, when the smoky vapor is kindled in part, and, as it grows, it makes a transverse motion. The oblique motion occurs for another reason, when, namely, the cooling ^D

pushing the shape causes it. For since everything darted from above is carried downwards, but fire has by nature the tendency to pursue the upward course—with the pressure forcing it to be carried downwards, and its nature compelling it to struggle upwards—a kind of mixture occurs, and the motion becomes oblique.

^B 92. Concerning blood-colored appearances and chasms in the heavens. Blood-colored appearances are seen in the heavens when a large cloud happens to be at the side of a bright one, and again when a blackish cloud is gathered beneath the bright one. But if the cloud should be to the side, then indeed the vision occurs through the refraction of the rays. Chasms, however, appear when a black cloud and a bright one are on the same plane, with the black standing within and the bright outside. At that time, our sight, being more occupied by the bright and grasping the black more slowly, seems to see a chasm, which happens through the imagination of the black color.

93. Concerning the magnitude of the sun, the moon, and the earth. The sun, according to Aristarchus, the most expert in astronomical matters, has a proportion to the earth greater than that of six thousand eight hundred and fifty-nine to twenty-seven. And its diameter to the diameter of the earth has a greater proportion than that of nineteen to three. Furthermore, the diameter of the sun is greater than the diameter of the moon by more than eighteen times. And again, the sun has a greater proportion to the moon than that of five thousand eight hundred and thirty-two to one. These things are not proposed by astronomers simply and without demonstration, but are confirmed by geometric and irrefutable proofs. This is not the time to speak of these, but it shall be sufficient for you, most divine Emperor, to accept these propositions now without demonstration; the proofs you may require of me at another time. ^C

94. Concerning the eclipse of the sun. Strictly speaking, an eclipse of the sun does not happen. For the solar light is never eclipsed, but only obscured. It is obscured when the moon is positioned perpendicularly beneath the sun at the ecliptic nodes. For when the moon is under us, it hides and withdraws the light of the sun from our eyes. Moreover, astronomers, measuring the body of the moon by twelve digits, observe that sometimes it intercepts the solar rays with the whole body of the moon, and sometimes with fewer of these digits. For when the moon is carried through the higher apsis, or the part of its circle that is closer to the sun, it seems ^D to obscure it by a small part; but when it passes through the lower one, since it then appears to our eyes to be of great size, it blocks the entire sun.

95. Concerning the eclipse of the moon. The moon is eclipsed when it falls into the shadow of the earth. For the earth, being illuminated by the sun, creates a shadow, not cylindrical—as is the shape of a column—but conical. Now a cone, or top, is said to be that which ends in a point from a wider base. Such is the earth's shadow

[GREEK COLUMN] αὕτη δὲ ἡ τῆς γῆς ἐστι σκιά. Διότι ὅταν τι σῶμα ὑπὸ ἰσομεγέθους φωτίζηται σώματος, κυλινδρική γίνεται ἡ σκιά· ὅταν δὲ ὑπὸ μείζονος, κωνοειδής. Μείζων οὖν ὁ ἥλιος τῆς γῆς ὤν, καὶ φωτίζων αὐτὴν, κωνικὴν ποιεῖ τὴν σκιάν. Ὅταν οὖν εἰς τὸ τῆς γῆς σκίασμα ἡ σελήνη ἐμπέσῃ, ἀμαυρὰ ἡμῖν φαίνεται καὶ οἷον ἐκλείπουσα. Καὶ ὅταν μὲν εἰς τὴν ῥίζαν ἐμπέσῃ τῆς σκιᾶς, τελείως ἐκλείπτει. Ὅταν δὲ εἰς τὴν κορυφήν, ἀμυδροτέρα, διότι τῆς κωνοειδοῦς σκιᾶς ἡ μὲν βάσις πλατυτέρα, ἡ δὲ κορυφὴ βραχυτέρα.

96. Is the sun hot?

97. What is the substance of the stars?

98. Concerning the orbit and motion of the stars.

with the heaven from the east to the west, it makes days and nights.

99. What are the shapes of the stars?

100. On the order of the stars.

101. Whence do the stars receive their light?

102. On the signification of the stars, and how winter and summer occur?

[…when it goes to the south, it produces winter; and when it reaches the zodiacal sign of the Ram, it creates an equinox; and when it passes along opposite to the Claws, it brings about autumn and the other equinox.]

[103. What is the length of time of the period for each of the planets?]

For all the planets, God has established definite times of motion according to the proportion of the size of the spheres and the measure of the distances. ^A Saturn, therefore, as it is higher than the others and traverses a larger circle, completes its own period in the span of thirty years. Jupiter, being immediately after it, does so in twelve. Mars, in two and a half years. For the Sun, Venus, and Mercury, the period is equal and lasts one year. The Moon is restored in twenty-nine and a half days. ^B If anyone examines the numerical values of these things more musically, he will marvel at the wisdom of the Creator, since it is possible to observe in them all the harmonic proportions: the interval of an octave, of a fifth, and of a fourth.

[104. On the comet.]

A comet is generated from a fuliginous substance; for when some part of this fulginous matter is ignited by motion, as we have said, and if that ^C compound is thinner, it immediately runs further and becomes what is called a "shooting star." But if the material is found to be thicker, the seed of the ignited fire is held there, and it creates a comet. There are various shapes of comets, due to the different ignition of that material. For the ignition is either in length only, and it becomes what is called a "beam"; or in length and breadth, and this forms the comet properly so called; or it has in its depth certain ^D sparks, as it were, and it is called "bearded." There are other names for comets, which we shall discuss as we proceed.

[105. On rain, hail, snow, frost, and dew.]

Comets and the Milky Way—and furthermore rays and shooting stars, and the other things already mentioned—are formed in the fuliginous vapor. But rain, hail, snow, frost, and dew occur in the vaporous ascent, which spreads out after the fuliginous layer, being of a moist nature, rising from the earth. For this moist and warm vaporous exhalation is altered and changed into water, and if it descends more fully, it creates rain; if it is brought down in smaller parts, it creates dew; or it freezes entirely and makes snow; or it is changed first, and then freezes, and hail is born. These things happen when the vapor is lifted up by its lightness. But if it settles in the air near the earth and freezes, frost is generated. Aristotle states that the cause of all these things is cold.

[106. On the rainbow.]

The rainbow, which the common people call "the bow," does not exist by nature, but is an image formed in the viewers, while rays from…

the eyes fall upon it and are then reflected back, revealing the shape of a bow. ^A And it is truly a bow in its shape, for it never appears as a full circle, but rather as something less or more than a semicircle. It appears most frequently from the sun, rarely from the moon; and more often during the day, rarely at night; and more often near the horizon, less frequently around the meridian circle. Not infrequently, two rainbows are seen at the same time. Every rainbow is trichromatic. For the inner band of it is scarlet, the second green, and the third purple, or somewhat deep purple. It is formed in uneven and heterogeneous clouds.

107. On the Halo.

108. On Rods.

109. On Parhelia (Mock Suns).

they appear white like the color of the halo. Regarding the parhelia, one must know that the reflection from the cloud occurs toward the sun, because the cloud is denser and more solid than those in the rays, and smooth. For this reason, the parhelion also appears white, since the light is reflected from this smooth surface as well, and promptly.

110. On Winds.

The wind is not air in motion, as Hippocrates of Cos, the physician, thinks, but arises from smoky exhalation. For the motion of air is weak and loose, but that of the wind is tyrannical and most violent, as shown by earthquakes, which move the earth; for an earthquake is nothing other than an underground wind. ^B To speak briefly, of the four cardinal or principal winds, the Subsolanus (East wind) and Zephyrus (West wind) are not very impetuous, but the Boreas (North wind) and Auster (South wind) are more tyrannical. For at the northern and southern poles, where Boreas and Auster blow, the sun, being further removed, does not warm those regions, so they remain cold; and while they are cold, they are always moist, with many rains falling there due to the cold. Consequently, the ground having become saturated, much smoky exhalation is released, and for this reason strong winds appear: Boreas and Auster. But in the eastern and western regions, the sun, in its movement, does not allow much cold to occur; hence there is neither much rain nor much smoky exhalation, as the earth is not so saturated, and for this reason strong winds do not arise from those quarters. ^C Nevertheless, in the southern parts, there is more earth but it is less moist, whereas in the northern parts there is not much earth, but it is very moist. For rains arise from cold, and many vapors and exhalations arise from the moisture of the earth, not from its mass. Hence, strong winds come from the southern and northern parts, because many vapors are exhaled from the earth there. In the east and west, however, the winds are not so fierce, as the sun consumes the vapors rising there and does not allow them to consolidate.

Furthermore, we call the winds blowing from the north "Boreas," and those from the south "Notus" or "Auster." The cause of the oblique motion of the wind is the rotation of the orb of the earth, ^D which diverts the smoky exhalation rising from below and transports it hither and thither. The Etesian (annual) winds from the north blow twenty days after the summer solstice, around the rising of the Dog Star. For at that time, with the snows melted, cold northern breezes blow, which are called Etesiae. There are also southern Etesian winds from the south of the whole world, but we cannot perceive them. There come, however, even from the southern part closer to us, Etesian winds, which begin to blow seventy days after the winter solstice, when the sun is in Pisces. From the equinoctial west blows the Zephyrus; from the equinoctial east blows the Subsolanus; and from the north, or arctic pole, blows the Aparctias; from the south, the Auster. Again, from the summer sunrise blows the Caecias, and from the winter sunset they call it Lips. From the winter sunrise blows the Eurus or Vulturnus, from the

summer solstice, the *argestes*, which Ptolemy calls *iapyx*. And these eight winds are diametrically opposed to one another. Another wind is from one section of the arctic pole, and it is called *boreas* or *meses*, blowing between the *caecias* and the *aparctias*. Another is from the other section of the arctic [pole], and this one is called *thrascias*, being between the *aparctias* and *iapyx*. Again, from one section of the southern pole blows the *euronotus*, being between the *eurus* and the *notus*. And from the other section is the *libonotus*, between the *libs* and *notus*, which is also called *Phoenicius*. And while the northern winds are frequent, they are nonetheless less intense, because they blow from very humid regions. The southern winds are less frequent because of a lack of material, but they are more intense because of the dryness of the lands from which they blow. Of these winds, the *caecias*, *boreas*, and *aparctias* are usually cloudy; the *boreas*, *aparctias*, *thrascias*, and *argestes* are lightning-bearing. A cloud-bursting wind, ^B which the Greeks call *ecnephias*, is the *boreas*, and that which brings clouds is the *meses* and *aparctias*; the *aparctias*, *thrascias*, and *argestes* are hail-bearing, and the *notus*, *zephyrus*, and *eurus* are heat-bearing. The *zephyrus* is by its own nature cold, but inasmuch as it blows in the summer, it acquires an accidental heat; the *boreas*, however, by the multitude of its exhalations always disperses the clouds and brings serenity, unless it is cold; but if it is cold, it thickens and condenses the vapor before it can disperse the cloud, and it causes rain. And contrary winds cannot blow at the same time. Furthermore, the *notus* which blows near us does not blow from the south pole or the south of the globe, but from the summer tropic.

111. On the Typhon

The *typhon* is a type of wind which Homer calls a storm, and Aristotle calls *typhon* because this dense current strikes and beats and prostrates whatever it encounters. The cause of this is thicker vapors descending straight down from the clouds onto the land or the sea, which, upon striking some resistant material, are driven backward. When, indeed, the reflected part of these is prevented from rising back up because of other vapors following after, they are carried to the sides and are shattered; and, encountering other parts that resist them there, they are again dispersed and form a helix, that is, a swirling of the wind, lifting up from the earth and from the sea whatever bodies it catches. This is the wind which some call *typhon*. ^D

112. On the Ecnephias

The *ecnephias* is also a type of wind, and is hardly different from the *typhon*. But the *ecnephias* is not seen, while the *typhon* is seen, because it carries with it from the cloud a thicker substance, namely, smoky vapor. Rain puts the *ecnephias* to rest, but it is not capable of quelling the *typhon*, which is lifted and extinguished by the northern wind. Furthermore, the *ecnephias* is nothing other than an intense *typhon*, and a *typhon* is just a remiss *ecnephias*, and they are not different. And in so far as they are the same in kind, the *ecnephias* and the *typhon* differ in their intensity and remission. For the *typhon* is an intense

of the dust-storm, while the *eknephias* is a loosened whirlwind. Often indeed, winds blowing from cold regions, being adulterated through warm regions, blow down as warm; while those from warm regions, being mixed with cold air in between, flow past as cold.

113. De fulminibus. On Thunderbolts.

114. De prestere sine igneo turbine. On the Prester, or Fire-Wind.

115. Quomodo cœperit mundus? How the world began to exist.

116. Num unum sit hoc universum? Whether this universe is one.

sublimer than simplicity; but whatever things are below God ^A are not properly one, but are so called on account of their union with and participation in the One. For the intellect, too, is both one and many. For there are as many things as the intellect, since it also contains within itself the exemplars of these. The soul also—which is divisible to a much greater degree—happens to be many, and no less so the elements and bodies. Since, therefore, the world also participates in an accurate union, it is for this reason called one; and because it is perfect, it is one and alone, and there are not many worlds.

117. Concerning the void

118. Concerning place

119. Concerning region

120. Whether the world is ensouled

the souls and the intellectual powers are not enclosed within the heaven and the subordinate spheres, but on the contrary, they have determined that the bodies depend upon the more divine things. They have thought, however, that these things also exist under nature, yet that nature is not in opposition either to their souls or to the intellectual dispositions, but is rather directed by them in the highest degree. Nor indeed have they thought that the souls or the intellects were bound to these bodies, but that they are suspended from them and illuminated by them.

^A 121. Whether the world is unbegotten and incorruptible. Neither is the world considered unbegotten by us, nor incorruptible, for we have learned from Scripture that it was created and will perish. Aristotle, however, posits it as both unbegotten and incorruptible. Plato in the *Timaeus* declares that it was generated, but that it will not be destroyed throughout all time. And since it is objected against him that, because it is compound, it will also be destroyed—for everything compound is also dissolvable—he counters by responding that, by the reason of its own nature, the world is indeed corruptible, for no body possesses eternity in itself, but it has received this from God, and it is something superadded to it that it should be incorruptible. Proclus, in his commentaries ^B or explanations on the *Timaeus*, strives with all contention to demonstrate that Plato did not even think the world was generated; rather, he thinks that it is unbegotten in time, or, to speak more correctly, he attempts to confirm that as far as its being compound is concerned, one may think of it as generated.

122. Whether the world is nourished. They do not seem to me to be far from insanity who suppose that the world is nourished, whether they call only the heaven by the name of the world, as Plato did in the *Timaeus*, or the four elements along with the ether. For if, according to them, the world is most perfect, and especially eternal, how could it be in need of nourishment? For that which is imperfect and needy is nourished. But that which is full and ^C wanting in nothing is not. If that which nourishes produces an addition and growth in that which is nourished, the world would also grow if it were being nourished, but also it would waste away if it were moved, so that the world would become greater and smaller than itself. This, in addition to being absurd, is clearly ridiculous. If, therefore, the world has need of neither growth nor diminution, it would never have need of nourishment.

123. On the order of the world. The philosophers of the Greeks are in opposition to one another in the positioning of the parts of the world. The truth is that the heaven, as the greatest and circular body, and capable of containing and holding together the elements, is built outside of them; and under its concave surface, first the fixed stars are arranged, and the zodiacal circle; then the spheres and motions of the wandering stars, ^D of which the moon is the last. Immediately under this is the sub-ignition, as it were, the power of fire, then the air, and after these the element of water, and lastly the body of the earth is founded. And while all things are in all things, each of the elements has a certain wholeness, so that...

have it circumscribed, and everything mutually superposed.

124. What is the cause of this whole world being inclined. I marvel at some philosophers who think that the world has fallen from its proper place and lost the position it had first received from the Creator, and that the northern pole has been raised into a higher region, while the southern one has been depressed beneath the earth, and the equinoctial zone has been inclined toward the south. They are so ignorant that, because of the diverse situation of the climates, ^B the poles now stand upon the circle of the horizon, and they keep the whole unchanged; but for those whose lot it is to dwell in the northern climate, the pole there appears elevated and is always visible, while the southern one is hidden under the earth. By no means, therefore, has the world been inclined in any direction, but the position of the habitations imagines the inclination.

125. Whence one might know by Greek demonstrations the end of the world. Concerning the last day and hour, according to the saying of the Gospel, no one knows, except the Father and the Son who is coeternal with Him, and the Spirit who proceeds from the Father. But the Greeks strive to know even this through empty demonstrations. The greatest period of Saturn is two hundred and sixty-five years. Of Jupiter, twenty-seven; of Mars, two hundred and eighty-four; of the Sun, one thousand four hundred and sixty-one; of Venus, one thousand four hundred and fifty-one; of Mercury, four hundred and eighty-eight; and finally, of the Moon, twenty-five years. But the great period of the world is completed in one million seven hundred and fifty-three thousand two hundred years; at that time, a conjunction of all the planets will take place in the thirtieth degree of Cancer or the first degree of Leo, and then the world will be overwhelmed by a universal flood. After the completed periods of the minor years in the planets, particular floods occur; for to each of the wandering stars, ^C greatest, middle, and lesser years are attributed.

126. What are the right parts of the world, and what are the left. To those looking from the east toward the west, the right parts of the world are the northern, the southern are the left. But to those looking from the west toward the east, the southern are the right, the northern are the left. And toward these the heaven is carried as it moves, while the eastern parts are behind; for from those it departs. But if you inquire which things are above in the heaven and which are below, other philosophers indeed declare those things which are above our head to be superior, and they regard those which are opposite to these as inferior. But Aristotle now considers the whole heaven as superior with respect to the earth, ^D and now calls what he once called superior, inferior, and conversely, and this not without a distinguished and learned demonstration.

127. Concerning the change of the parts of the earth. The parts of the earth change by reason of dryness and humidity, since from humid they become dry or from dry

and from dry, becoming moist. It also happens that the sea becomes land, and the land becomes sea. For in the great winter, the land is submerged by the sea, and in the great summer, the sea is dried out. Rivers also are a cause of the land being uncovered from the sea; for flowing into it and bringing down silt, they make banks, and in this way that river-bed moves into land. But where they do not flow in, they cause the land to be covered by the sea; but in that case the sea, yielding to the continents, is pushed toward the opposite shore and covers it. If it cannot, the water returns again to its own place, and that which had become continent is again flooded and occupied.

^B 128. On earthquakes. The author of the earthquake is God, just as He is of all other things, according to that saying: *He who looks upon the earth and makes it tremble* (9). But the proximate cause of this is the wind sent up from the earth, when it happens to be agitated within, with the vapors usually exhaled; for this reason the most numerous and greatest earthquakes occur when there is no wind, for this cause of movement is contained under the earth. Concussions are more severe where the sea is boisterous and the land is porous and full of caverns. For the wind, becoming violent due to the solidity [of the earth], shakes the earth all the more. Countries which have porous foundations, receiving much wind, are shaken more, because the sun then appears cloudy and dim, beginning the return of the wind into the earth, which dissolves and clarifies the air.

129. On the great winter. It is a great winter when all the planets are in a winter sign of the zodiac, in Aquarius or Pisces. A great summer, or the summer of the great year, is when all the planets come together in a summer sign. But being situated in Leo, it makes summer; in Sagittarius, it makes winter. Hence it is also called *annus* (year) by the Greeks, because it brings the sun to the same spot, for from the same point the luminary returns to the same point. Therefore, all the planets when positioned above our zenith create a great summer, but when they are distant from us from the diameter, they make a great winter. And in the great winter the land is submerged by the sea, and in the great summer the sea is dried up.

130. Why the water of the sea is salt. Sea water is salt because the smoky exhalation, being an undigested substance falling into the sea, makes it salt and heavy. The same exhalation, becoming terrestrial and mixing with summer and autumnal rains, makes them salt. Rivers, however, do not suffer this saltness because of their ceaseless flow. For there is need of stillness so that the mixture of the smoky exhalation with the underlying waters may occur. The sun is also a cause of this saltness. For by its own heat, drawing off vapors from the sea and lifting and raising the sweeter parts into the air, it leaves the saltier and heavier parts below. That sea water is thicker than river water is manifest to the senses; for those

on account of the heavy burden, ships cannot be carried by rivers, whereas in the sea they are borne easily, on account of the thickness underlying it. ^A

131. What is the cause why sweet water is also found in the sea? The cause for there being sweet water in the sea is the rivers that flow into it. Thus, the sea near the coast of Gaza has sweet water, because certain mouths of the Nile discharge into it not far from there. For when a river rolls into the sea with vehemence and force, it creates a kind of bubbling and renders the water sweet. You must also remember this, that a river flows from every great source, and wells also owe their origin to springs: and in some places water gushes out from deep in the earth; in other places, from springs and surface fountains. Now, rivers and fountains have flowing water, but wells have standing water, for it does not flow out. Aristotle speaks of the Erythraean Sea as being outside the Ocean, because it does not join its boundaries. There is also a place for it called "the deep" above ^B the Maeotian marsh, where very sweet water bubbles up with much vapor.

132. Why sea water does not nourish trees. Sea water does not nourish trees because it does not enter their roots, nor is it carried quickly into the trunk and branches, because it is thick and of an earthy nature. This is demonstrated by the fact that it supports and holds up ships and divers more easily than other water. You may cite another cause: that this water is drying, but trees require moisture, not dryness. That sea water dries is evident from the fact that it helps against putrefaction, making dry things drier; and the bodies of those who have bathed in the sea have ^C a dry and rough surface. Add a third cause: that sea water abounds in fattiness, and this fatness, insinuating itself into the pores of the trees, does not permit them to be fruitful.

133. Why, when oil is sprinkled on the sea, it becomes clear and calm. Because sea water, consisting of earthy and uneven particles, is loosened by the density of the oil, and then, as it returns to its nature and composes itself, certain pores and empty intervals are formed, which render that liquid transparent ^D to the eyes, and the wind, gliding over the smooth body, creates no disturbance or swell. Or it is because oil, being exceedingly uniform and fatty, when poured upon sea water, dispels the murky air in it and makes it clearer; and the oil creates a calm as it floats upon the sea, not allowing it to boil up from below. There are many other causes for these things, but those I have adduced are more accurate than the others.

NOTES (10) In the Greek it is "the deepest river"; but for that more obscure interpretation I have put "Maeotian marsh," for Psellus has regard here for Aristotle, *On the World*, ch. 4: "it has a deep place above the Maeotian lake."

Concerning Omnifarious Doctrine. 134. What is the cause, why if the sea is struck by lightning, salt emerges?

Ex aqua marina coagulata fit sal. From seawater that has been coagulated, salt is produced. And it is coagulated if it has been struck by lightning, which draws away the sweet and potable water. For delicate and potable water is not coagulated either by the sun scorching it or by lightning striking it; ^A but seawater undergoes this from both, and especially from lightning. For the lightning fire, being sulfurous, when it falls into the sea, evaporates and dries up the potable water, but coagulates the earthy and salty parts; whence lightning makes bodies incorruptible, and salt, by the moisture being dried through it, preserves them from putrefaction. Aristotle the philosopher posits and accepts this cause, as do the more excellent of the physicists.

135. On the tide in Euboea.

The Ionian sea, being narrowed from its great breadth at the island of Euboea, and pouring itself as if through some kind of mouth into the Crissaean gulf, mingles with the Aegean sea, and undergoes the Peloponnesian isthmus, and is held back in its forward course by a higher providence, as it seems, so that it may not rush forward before its time and overwhelm the opposite lands from the narrow place, for it is enclosed and heaped up as if by walls, and becomes subject to a tide, as is natural. And ^B around this strait the water is constricted more than in the rest of the gulf, and thus the waves falling upon the returning water foam and boil, and raise a swelling billow which, by the collision, is gathered into a surge.

136. Why trees and seeds are nourished more by rainwater than by flowing water.

Because with their impact they cleave the earth and make pores and penetrate into the root. Or, what is more true, because rain-water is fresh and new, whereas that from marshes is stale and of long duration. Or because rain-water, being replete with airy particles and having air admixed by reason of its subtlety, quickly inserts itself into the plant, whence also it produces bubbles because of the intermingling of the air. Or because rain-water, ^C born in the air and spirit, descends pure and sincere, whereas spring water carries back its origins and is assimilated to the places through which it passes, and so is filled with various qualities. Add also another reason: rain-water easily putrefies and thus is easily altered. And every water that is so disposed nourishes the subject into which it falls.

137. Why waters that fall with thunder and lightning are more irrigating for seeds.

They are full of spirit because of the disturbance and mixing of the air. And the spirit moves, impels, and distributes the moisture more. Or because heat, struggling against cold, makes thunder and lightning, which is why there is no thunder in winter, but mostly in spring and autumn. And the heat, ^D acting upon the moisture, renders it favorable and useful to plants. And spring waters are most necessary for seeds before the summer, whence the region

water as being most necessary for seeds before the summer. Hence, the region that receives the most rain in the spring, as is the case in Sicily, produces many good fruits. ^A

138. *On certain lakes.* The sea commonly called the Dead Sea in Palestine, being very dense, is the saltiest of all waters, and every body cast into it is pushed upward by the water and does not sink. Furthermore, all salt water is hot either in potential or in act; in potential, as is the water at Tyre, but in act, as is that which is at Gabara. There is also a muddy region among the Ombrici, where reeds and rushes grow in great abundance; the inhabitants of the region burn these and reduce them to ashes, and by boiling them with water, they find solidified salt. The Sirbonian lake is also salt, and just as much density as is in the waters, so much saltiness is also usually present, so that the densest things are also the saltiest. Thus the sea ^B is also salty because it is thick, due to the very dense, smoky vapors being mixed into it.

139. *On rivers.* From the mountain called Parnaryus in Asia arise the rivers Bactrus, Choaspes, and Araxes. From Mount Caucasus the Phasis and many other great rivers flow. Now, Caucasus is the greatest of all mountains toward the summer sunrise, both in the multitude of its ridges and in height. From the Pyrenees (this is a mountain toward the equinoctial sunset, in the Celtic region) flows the Ister, which runs through all of Europe into the Euxine Sea. In the north itself, beyond the furthest Scythia, are the mountains called Riphae, which are ^C extremely large and very high. In Africa, the rivers Ægon, Neosis, and Chremetes arise from the Ethiopian mountains. The Nilus descends from the mountain of Argyrus. The sources of the Achelous are from Pindus, and those of the Strymon and the Hebrus are from Scombrus; these mountains are in the Greek region.

140. *On the rising of the Nile.* The Nile receives the beginnings of its nature from the peaks of Ethiopia and the furthest parts of Libya, where the eastern climate ends and the south begins. The Nile swells in the summer season, not, as some have believed, because its waters are pushed back by the Etesian winds blowing ^D in the opposite direction, but rather because these very winds, around the summer tropic, gather and drive all the clouds from the northern part toward the south, until, having accumulated in the torrid zone and being hindered from progressing further, they break out in copious rains, and the Nile swells and becomes agitated, nor does it allow itself to be contained in its own channel. Then the waters of the Nile are most sweet for drinking, as they are increased by heavenly rains and are most wholesome; they are no longer hot as they were at their source, but they are still lukewarm from having begun in such a place.

141. Why the Nile alone among rivers does not emit cool breezes. ^A The Nile alone among rivers does not emit cool breezes, because the clouds are driven from Ethiopia by the Etesian winds towards the south, and all the vapor contained therein is evaporated by the heat of that place. From this, as much rain is brought down, the Nile rises from its own banks and fertilizes the fields; and it is logical that no cool breezes are released, since all the vapor has been consumed by the heat. Nor is the Nile increased by melting snow, as some natural philosophers have supposed. Hence, there is no truer cause for the river's rise, nor for the fact that cool breezes are not released from it.

142. Concerning the greatest kingdoms. ^B The first of the renowned kingdoms was the Assyrian, after which came the Median, which overthrew the former and encompassed a greater dominion. The Persians, having conquered the Medes, held sway over almost all of Asia; they also attempted to attack the European nations, but conquered only a few, and they held their principate for not much more than two hundred years. The Macedonian dynasty overthrew the Persian rule and lasted only until the second or third generation. The city of Rome rules over all the land that is not inaccessible and is inhabited by men. It holds sway over the entire sea and the ocean itself, even where it ceases to be navigable.

143. Concerning tastes. ^C Among the various kinds of tastes, we observe that the salty one alone is not produced in any fruit. For the olive bears a bitter taste; the oil-nut, an astringent one; pomegranates, a harsh one; honey, a sweet one; some apples, a sour one; and many seeds and roots, a pungent one. A salty humor, however, is found in no fruit. The reason is that seawater, when filtered through a plant, casts off its saltiness, which is of an earthy and thick nature; and in every plant, the salty and marine water is transformed, laying aside its saltiness and taking on another quality. Since what is salty consists of very thick particles, it cannot be raised from the roots into the branches unless it casts off both its saltiness and its weight.

144. Why shepherds provide salt for their flocks. ^D Because its pungency excites the appetite and opens the pores, which aids in better digestion. Or rather, they give salt to the cattle for the sake of their health. For flocks suffer when they become too fat, and the salt melts and dissolves the fat. For the fat, which had constipated and tightened the skin, is thinned and reduced by that pungency, and the blood of the animals allowed to lick the salt becomes more subtle. And the

are rendered more prone to mating, so that dogs, for instance, are the more readily impregnated if they have eaten salt. But the poet also calls salt divine when he says: *Aspersitque salem divinum* (And he sprinkled it with divine salt). For it has obtained a divine power, in that it keeps the corpses of the dead safe from the decay they would otherwise undergo.

^B 145. Why does the octopus change its color according to the rocks it comes near? It is clear that this animal, whenever it senses some noise or suspects that it is being hunted, turns through fear and changes. It makes itself like the colors of the rocks to which it clings; for from all bodies—from bronze, from iron, and from stone—certain effluvia are emitted. Since, therefore, the body of the octopus has pores adapted to the currents sent out by those bodies, it takes on their colors and changes itself toward them. When, therefore, the octopus is afraid, it moves and turns, and as it were pulls together and constricts its body, so as to receive and hold at the surface the effluvia from the things nearby. Neither the octopus nor the chameleon, however, changes toward white, because they have pores unsuited to such a color, though they are adapted to others.

146. Why is the sole of the bear’s forefoot most delicious to eat? Because everything that is well-cooked and well-digested is delicious; and that is well-cooked which has been heated first; and that is heated most which is most agitated and exercised, such as the sole of the forefoot, with which the bear walks and which it uses like a hand, by which it seizes things offered to it. Hence, among winged animals also, the most delicious and most nutritious parts are those which they move the most, such as their wings; for with these they move and pierce the air. The other parts do not provide as much nourishment as these. For this reason, exercises give a good state to bodies by moving them and by cooking down and thinning out their humors. Moreover, exercises in the disciplines and arts bring benefit not only to bodies but also to souls themselves. And according to Hippocrates, movement ^C introduced periodically strengthens the body, while inactivity wastes it.

147. Why do the Dorians pray for a bad harvest of fodder? A bad harvest of fodder occurs when a great deal of rain falls. For when it is cut down while green, having become soaked by the rain, it quickly rots. But rain falling before summer aids the corn against hot breezes and those blowing from the south. For these do not allow the fruit to be stunted in the ear, but rather, by their heat, they break up and dissipate its solidity, unless the moisture of the earth, being well-watered, comes to cool and moisten the ear. Since, therefore, a bad harvest of fodder occurs on account of the rain, inasmuch as it rots and is lost through it, whereas the same rain ^D

becoming, for it moistens them and does not allow them to be heated and scorched by the hot winds; for this reason, they pray for a bad harvest of grass for the Dori.

^B 148. Why the bear does not eat the nets when it is caught.

Wolves and lambs and other wild animals chew the nets when they are caught in them. The bear, however, having its teeth far inside its mouth, very little reaches the cordage. For it pushes its lips aside because of their thickness and size, or rather, being powerful with its paws, it tears the noose, and with its paws tears the linen, while with its mouth it defends itself against those pursuing it; or because its rolling movements are what most aid it in escaping by tearing and breaking the net, wherefore, often rolling about in the nooses, it divides and cuts them, and then easily turns over and escapes. Since it has many defenses and means of escape, it uses the most robust ones, and slips out of the noose by which it is held.

149. Why the squid appearing is a sign of a storm.

The squid is a small fish with a smooth surface of skin, whence it is also called a mollusk (malakion). For since it is entirely bare and covered neither by a shell, nor enveloped in skin, nor protected by scales, it is classed with the mollusks. Being thus naked and uncovered, it senses the storm in advance because of its sensitivity. Whence it leaps up, fleeing the cold and the turbulence of the sea at the bottom, and swims up to the surface of the water. When, therefore, sailors or fishermen see this little fish swimming on the sea, they infer a storm, just as when they see the octopus clinging to a rock, they take it as a sign of the onset of winds. For God has implanted in animals prognostic faculties, by which they pursue what is safe and flee what is harmful.

150. Why we sow wheat in muddy soil, but barley in dry soil.

Wheat is bitter because it is also woody, whereas barley is loose and easily rots. Whence the former, being softened and macerated by moisture, grows best. But for barley, because of its porosity, drier ground is more suitable, wherefore the rich and deep field is grain-bearing, but the thin-soiled one is barley-bearing. Because the robust seeds require more nourishment, and the weaker ones require thinner and lighter nourishment. Barley is weaker and more porous, wherefore it does not bear heavy and much nourishment. For it is necessary to prepare and adapt the underlying earth for every sprout and every growing herb or seed, so that it may be nourished and grow in what each enjoys. For some things enjoy dry places, others moist, and others hot.

151. Why the vine, when appearing with the wine from itself, withers.

Because pure wine, having a constrictive nature, becomes

and closing its pores and contracting them, does not allow the water to pass through, so that the plant might flourish and grow. The vine more easily imbibes wine that originated from it, if it is poured back upon it. For even if a plant is devoid of sensation, and is moved neither by impulse nor by imagination, nevertheless it is carried by nature toward the juice familiar to it, and by it it is more easily constricted. Furthermore, nothing is more true than that there are many things in physics which are explained with difficulty and whose reasons cannot be easily attained by conjecture; with such deep knowledge deferred for the time being, it should satisfy us if something probable is brought forward. Plato openly professes the same in the *Timaeus*, and therefore he says: "Neither I who speak, nor you who hear me, ought to consider anything human to be alien to us."

152. ^B Why do roses bloom more when plants grow nearby?

Not only roses, but lilies and everything else that excels in sweet fragrance become more fragrant when garlic and onions grow nearby. For whatever of a sharp and unpleasant nature remained in them is naturally drawn toward those seeds of the sharpest odor, so that what remains thereafter is most fragrant and most aromatic. And rue, when planted under a fig tree, becomes sharper than it was before; for what was more foul-smelling in the fig is transferred into the rue. Also, in the case of figs planted near caprifigs, the figs become more pleasant; for things that are homogeneous and of a similar kind are naturally carried and drawn toward similar things; therefore, whatever was sharp in the fig passes into the caprifig, and thus it preserves an untainted sweetness for it.

153. ^C For what reason is the tear of wild pigs sweet, but that of deer salty?

This happens because of heat and cold. For the deer is of a cold nature, whence it is also cowardly and always fleeing, and never chasing others. But the boar is of a hot temperament, whence the heat settling in the eyes of the pigs cooks the tear for them and renders it sweet. But the cold, being unable to change this in the case of the deer, leaves it salty and raw. For there is nothing at all in nature that does not have its cause, although many things escape our grasp. Therefore, one must always seek the truer cause, yet one must also be content with the more probable ones, since Plato ^D also urges this in the dialogue *Phaedo*, accepting not only those things which cannot be refuted in any way, but also those which can be refuted with difficulty.

154. Why do pebbles and lead plates placed in water make it colder?

Aristoteles, when he had set out to examine this question in his *Problems*, left it unsolved, for it is among the most difficult. Truly, when air drifting from outside makes water cold, it has even greater power to bring this about when it strikes against stones and lead plates; for by their density they receive it and send it back again into the water, so that the cooling spreads more strongly throughout the whole of it, whence it is no wonder that pebbles and lead plates cast into water make it colder.

makes the water. For this reason, in winter, rivers are colder than the sea, for the cold air, being reflected in them, prevails more than in the sea, where, on account of its depth, it does not strike any solid body but is dissipated. Otherwise, lead is also cold by nature, and pebbles, on account of their density, cause cold in the depths.

155 155. For what reason is snow kept by straw and garments? It may seem wonderful that the hottest things, straw and a garment, preserve the coldest things. But it is not so; rather, you who judge in this way are mistaken. For a garment is not hot by nature; indeed, we feel the tunic to be cold when we first put it on, and then, after it is filled with heat proceeding from our body, it finally warms us, at the same time warding off and repelling the external air from the body. Just as, therefore, a warmed garment warms us, so one that is chilled cools the snow. It is cooled by the emission of a thin spirit; for this, while it is held enclosed by the garment, preserves the snow whole and compact. But when the spirit has departed, the snow, being water, flows and melts, and the white color vanishes, which the frothy mixture of the spirit with the liquid had provided; and the straw, because it is very light, resting softly on the snow, does not break the ice.

156 156. What is *bulimos*? Bulimos is called a great hunger, as if it were a "great famine" (*bou-limos*), that is, much hunger. Those who travel often through the snow suffer from this, as do horses and mules, especially when they are carrying dried figs or apples. And what is most wonderful is that bread restores not only humans but also beasts more than any other food, so that even if they eat a very little of it, they immediately stand up and walk. For the bodies of those traveling through snow are cooled and constricted intensely, and from this, the internal heat, resisting, consumes nourishment; then, when that is exhausted, it fades away just as fire does. For this reason, those who suffer this are extremely hungry, and after eating even a very small amount, they immediately revive. Others say that this passion of bulimia is in the stomach, which, on account of the heat joined to it, causes men to suffer a swooning of the soul.

157 157. What is the cause by which meats hung in a fig tree become easily friable? The fig tree is the most succulent of all plants; therefore, it releases a hot, sharp, and incisive spirit. And this breaks down and ripens the flesh of a bird, whence the most difficult of bulls is [bound] to the fig tree.

[Note: 157 (13). Why meats suspended from a fig tree become tender. The fig tree exceeds all shrubs and trees in juice, and therefore it gives off a hot, sharp spirit, endowed with the power of cutting. And by this it reduces and, as it were, cooks the meats of birds hung upon it, if... (13) In the manuscripts, this little work of Psellus is distinguished into CLVII chapters, nor does it contain fewer arguments than the codex of Allatius divided into chapters, as you will see from the titles written above (col. 524). Therefore, lest anyone should think that I gave this little work of Psellus less complete, I mentioned the CXCII chapters in the title, although according to the division which I found in the Lindenbrogian transcript, there are no more than CLVII chapters.]